Passion Food

They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Or to quote the American statesman John Adams (1814), "The shortest road to men's hearts is down their throats." While people might debate whether this could possibly hold a certain truth, I for one can say that it could work the other way around as well. That a way (thereby not saying the way) to a woman's heart could also go through her tummy.

Whereas in the 19th century a woman's role in society merely lied in house holding where cooking skills were an indication that she was up to the takes of nurturing a family, a contemporary woman does not depend so much on a man who can provide for her, nor does she have to. This is modern day life as we live it. Again, one could argue with me on this statement, but I for one definitely fit that description of an independent, self-sustaining person.

That doesn't mean that I won't do my best to create wonderful dishes from time to time to make my man happy. It's part of keeping the relationship fruitful. However, my man should do the same for me in return as well, simply because it takes two to tango. Jeff totally gets this. And luckily he does. He occassionally surprises me with delicious meals.

When I come home late from work after pulling a 12-hour shift, he serves me Chicken Parmeziana, the recepy of which he found online. When I don't feel like having mamak food for lunch, he packs me a salad with everything, which would then turn to be the subject of envy of all in the office. When I crave for junk food but at the same time don't want to feel guilty about it, he flips me a healthy Aussie burger that would make Ronald McDonald drop his head in shame. When I'm hungry but too lazy to do anything about it and when he's in the same lethargic mood, he dials Marco's number and orders pizza's for us which taste better than the average pizza you get here in KL.

It doesn't make me love him more or less. But I do love him for he is such a person. And I'm grateful for that.