Yes. I can cook.

One of my train buddies said to me 'so, what are you making your husband for tea?' Me, being me and missing the derisory nature of a lot of English humor completely missed it. 'Oh, I don't know. Pork chops maybe? Though I have some diced turkey in the freezer. Maybe a stir-fry?' Train buddy interrupted my ponderings with incredulity. 'Wait, you can COOK?' I smiled, this is what he was getting at.

I'm not the most feminine girly hanging around at Atherton train station. Today, for example, I'm wearing dark blue pinstriped trousers and a navy blue v-neck top. My hair is pulled back into a messy bun, I'm not wearing any make-up and my shoes are 8 eye Docs. When I go out I wear a tan Mac type thing, light enough to wear in Spring (and this particularly awful Summer) but warm enough to keep the chill of the Salford Quays winds at bay.

The effect is sort of nerdy, possibly a little dishevelled. Everything is clean, fits and suitable for business casual. I'm not making any statements by dressing this way, I wear what's good for my job. In the past when I had desk type employment (customer service, tech support) I'd wear skirts and dress up a little. Now there's every likelihood I'm going to have to crawl under a desk to fix a cable or dangle mid-air to change a projector bulb. Make-up (which is easily smeared and runs) carefully combed hair (really no point in the Quays) and fashionable shoes (5-inch spikes mostly) don't really have a place here.

To some degree I do feel as though I've sacrificed a bit of my femininity. I used to like wearing skirts to work, or even make-up. But now I can't even bring myself to put on a button down shirt for fear it gets caught on a wire or case somewhere. Not to mention how it bulges when you lift a machine against your chest. I make up for this by doing full make-up on the weekends and really going for it if we go out. It makes me feel quite girly again. Almost like a double agent. Secret geek in a girl's body.

Weekend Tiffany probably wouldn't have train buddies in awe she could make a casserole. They'd expect it. Red lips, red nails, not until the angry diatribe spilled from her mouth would they doubt she fulfilled a certain role. And maybe that's the problem here. Folks assume because I have a 'male' career, 'male' hobbies and 'male' dress that I also don't know a grill from an elbow. It's a shame too, cooking should be a life skill, not one relegated to housewives and the 'feminine.'

Dinner last night:
(Modified from a Sea Bass Puttenesca recipe. I couldn't find Sea Bass or capers. This was delicious as/is though.)

* 1/2 teaspoon olive oil heated and 1 clove garlic chopped & sauteed 30 seconds
* 1 cup chopped tomato, 1/4 cup white wine, salt & pepper added to mixture & simmered for 10 minutes until like a sauce 1 tablepoon black olives stirred into sauce
*Two fillets of Rainbow Trout placed on top of mixture, covered, & simmered for 10 minutes until fish is opaque