In the words of one man while pointing at a woman, "Me man, you cook."

I like to cook, and I like to eat—not necessarily in that order. And I did not necessarily learn it from my mother, either. Growing up, I have had many people provide meals for me, and they have not all been women. While visiting my Dad and Mimi and Pawpaw for whole summers in my childhood, my Pawpaw did most of the cooking for our family mealtimes. The recipes have come to be known as “Pawpaw’s”—“Pawpaw’s pork chops and gravy,” “Pawpaw’s candied yams,” or “Pawpaw’s chocolate Texas cake.” Mimi can also cook though—she makes some mean steamed broccoli—but the kitchen is well known as Pawpaw’s territory. It is interesting that I most clearly associate homemade meals with my Pawpaw, a man, when Marjorie L. DeVault points out in her chapter on “Feeding as ‘Women’s Work’” that the responsibility of providing meals for others is typically a woman’s job. DeVault notes that “women are recruited into the work of care,” specifically in regards to cooking for and feeding their families, by social expectations that organize the proper labor divide for each gender in the household (96). And although there are obvious exceptions, such as my Pawpaw, I tend to agree that cooking and feeding are tasks typically allocated to women because, in the words of some of DeVault’s subjects, “someone has to do it” (109).

This typical responsibility of women, however, does not have to be such a shouldered burden or an unhappy obligation. One thing DeVault does not acknowledge is the opportunity for control and creative expression that is to be found in cooking. In this day and age when it is so easy and convenient to buy a ninety-nine cents hamburger flipped by a teenager or a frozen bag of T.G.I. Friday’s loaded potato skins from the Wal-mart freezer, it is exciting and ego-boosting to know that I have cooked a meal with my own hands, have made it taste the way I want it to, and have arranged it on the plate the way I like it. Usually when my boyfriend and I are together, I do the cooking, mainly because I like to cook, experiment with new recipes, and present something to him to have him say, “Wow! This corn on the cob is perfect!” It is a matter of pride to have my cooking creation praised and liked—not just by my boyfriend, but anyone (he just tends to be around for most of my experiments and creations). And of course, I cook a lot for him to show him I care about him. DeVault points out the “strong association between ‘mothering’ and the preparation of food” as the foundation for the notion of showing how much a woman cares about others by cooking and serving food to them (104). The practice of mothering that is unique to women (even if they are not mothers yet) becomes a vehicle through which a woman expresses her caring for her children by providing them with cooked food. However, I think this notion is only an offshoot of the overarching expectation of society-instituted gender roles; a woman cooks and provides meals for her children, husband, boyfriend, etc. because it signifies her as “recognizably womanly” (118).

Although cooking and feeding may “seem like [a] ‘natural’ expression of [my] gender,” I refuse to feel obligated to cook and feed anyone just because society tells me it is my “job” or “duty” (118). I like to cook, not because I am expected to, but because I like to control what food I put into my body and because I like to experiment and be creative with food. I will cook because I enjoy it, but I do not have to cook. And it does not make me any less “womanly.” If that were the case, my boyfriend can cook the meal, and I will uncork the wine and watch.

DeVault, Marjorie L. Feeding the Family: The Social Organization of Caring as Gendered Work. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991. 95-119.