The first time you cook for a woman, it can bind you together for life. You
are sharing an experience that not only touches all five senses, but reaches
deep into your emotional consciousness, gently plucking strings and touching
chords in each other that you never knew existed, creating a symphonic
harmony of oneness from what was a duality.
Alternatively, you may simply be on the pull. Either way — whether your
intention is to propose marriage to the woman of your dreams, or to
establish whether Natasha from Accounts favours big pants, mini-briefs or a
thong — if you can get it on in the kitchen, the bedroom is but a step away.
Indeed, you may not even make it that far, so invest in some Febreze for the
sofa.
Already, I feel resistance. You’re thinking, cook, me? Nah, the Barclaycard’s
wedged up, I’ll take her to Nobu, that’ll impress her and maybe I’ll get
lucky and the broom cupboard will be free. Fight it. It is your inner
Neanderthal, a siren voice saying that cooking is women’s work; you’ve done
the hunting and gathering, you’ve invented fire, what the hell else does she
want?
Well, what she wants is a man in command — and short of a brain surgeon or a
space shuttle pilot at work, there are few sights more inspiring than that
of a chap in full control of a batterie de cuisine, especially if
you can drop names such as Global, Henckels, Le Creuset and Mauviel Cuprinox
the way less developed men talk about Chelsea, PlayStation2 and Angelina
Jolie.
If you still don’t believe me, look at Gordon Ramsay and Jamie Oliver. Few men
could be less alike. Do you suppose Ramsay is a babe magnet because of his
shy and self-effacing manner, his unfailing politeness and his understanding
nature? Can Oliver really be fighting women off with a rolling-pin because
of his muscular stature, granite-like features and stern demeanour? No, they
have nothing in common except that they can cook — and hey, have you seen
their wives? No man truly knows how women think, but there is one thing we
can be sure of: whatever they may say, all women want to be looked after.
So when she first sets foot in your kitchen to find that the cupboards contain
only Pot Noodles and the fridge nothing but a six-pack of Stella, three
tinfoil containers of leftover curry and a half-eaten doner kebab, she will
conclude that if you don’t care about yourself, how can you care for her?
While you’re in the bog reapplying the Lynx to your armpits and gargling the
Listerine, she will be calling a taxi.
OK, you’re weakening. You’re beginning to think I may have a point, but you
are about to present me with an obstacle that you confidently believe to be
insurmountable: namely, you can’t cook.
Nonsense. Every man can cook. It’s like conducting a relationship with a
woman. To begin with, you follow the recipe religiously, never deviating for
an instant from the path laid down for you; but as you grow in confidence
you chuck in a few extra ingredients to see what happens, take a few
chances, make a few mistakes, occasionally get your fingers burnt, but revel
in the increasingly frequent triumphs.
All you need to do, initially, is master three things: a simple seafood
starter, a basic but tasty pasta sauce and a decadent pud, preferably
involving chocolate. I’ve been preaching this for decades, and I’ve finally
found an ally. Nick Wood doesn’t know it yet, but he’s my new best friend
and I may be falling in love with him. This is a man who trained under the
Roux brothers at the Waterside Inn and Le Gavroche. He’s been chef to Evelyn
de Rothschild, Lord Weinstock, the Prince of Wales and the Royal Family.
Among the demanding women for whom he has cooked are the Queen, the late
Princess of Wales and the fashion designer Valentino (OK, OK — but it’s a
technicality), and he has satisfied, in a culinary sense, every one of them.
Now he has contributed 44 knockout recipes to a book called Kitchen
Charisma, designed for men to impress women in the kitchen, and which
every man should have.
So what are Nick’s failsafe ingredients? Not, as you might think, Maldon
seasalt and balsamic vinegar. “Charm and wit,” he says. “And simply making
the effort to cook will impress women. The idea that you are sweating away
for them, slaving away in the kitchen for them, making that effort,
psychologically it means much more than just spending money.”
His other golden rule is to keep it simple. “When it came to the recipes for
the book,” he says, “my hands were tied by the publishers; all the
ingredients had to be easily obtainable, and the food had to appeal to a
wide variety of people. The important thing is to cook within your
capabilities. If all you can do is poach an egg, then poach an egg. Or try a
simple risotto. Stick to the simplest recipes.”
And there you have it from a man who knows. If you can find your way round a
four-ring gas hob, you can find your way round a woman. She will trust
you.She will know that, in your care, she will never starve. And when you’re
snuggled up on the sofa at midnight with a postprandial cognac and you
inquire: “So tell me darling — how do you like your eggs in the morning?”,
despite every feminine instinct telling her that only a prat would come out
with a line like that, she will know by now that you are being perfectly
sincere.
Kitchen Charisma: the Cookbook for Men to Impress Women, with recipes
by Nick Wood, available at www.cooktoimpress.co.uk, £14.99 plus £3.50 p&p
Ingredients
Serves 2
Prep 20min
Cook 20 min
500g mussels
1 shallot, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, crushed
1tbsp butter
75ml dry white wine
4 tbsp double cream
1 egg yolk
75g watercress leaves, chopped
Salt and pepper
METHOD
Prepare the mussels by washing thoroughly and scraping off any excess dirt.
Pull any feathery “beards” off. Discard any that do not close when tapped
sharply.
Sweat the shallots and garlic in butter in a large saucepan. Add the wine and
mussels and cover. Steam for 10 min until the shells open. Strain the liquid
through a sieve into a separate pan. Reserve the mussels while you bring the
strained liquid to the boil. Add the cream and simmer to reduce by half,
stir in the watercress, remove from the heat and whisk in the egg yolk.
Season to taste.
Remove half the mussel shells and discard. Place the remaining half shells in
an ovenproof dish. Pour the sauce over and cook under a hot grill for 2 or 3
minutes till bubbling.
Top tips for kitchen conquests
- Keep it simple and know your limitations. A perfectly executed poached egg
on toast is infinitely more impressive than a burnt bolognese, a soggy soufflé
or a curdled custard
- Always cook with gas, and shake the pan above the hob rather than stir with
a wooden spoon. Occasionally a few drops of oil will hit the flame and flare
up theatrically, which is perfectly safe but looks sensational
- Never cheat. All women are born suspicious, and they are natural detectives. If
your pommes dauphinoises are too good to be true, she will ransack the bin relentlessly
till she finds the Marks & Spencer ready-meal carton
- OK, cheat sometimes. Supermarkets are vile places, but sometimes they are unavoidable.
Destroy all identifiable packaging and put those mushrooms in a plain brown
paper bag that looks as though it came from your local farmers’ market,
even if you don’t know where it is; and if you don’t, find out
- Make your kitchen warm and inviting, and have her sit at the kitchen table/breakfast
bar to watch while you cook. This has the added advantage of keeping her out
of the living room till the last possible moment. She’ll only want to
rearrange the furniture, sand the floorboards and throw out the carpet —
and just when it’s ready to take spin
