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"Men think first about technique; women think first about their emotions," says Hélène Darroze, the top French chef now running the kitchen in the beautifully refurbished Connaught Hotel. What she describes is true of sex and even more of food. Darroze replaces Angela Hartnett, trained by Gordon Ramsay, the boor who surely personifies the man's world of top kitchens, full of tiresome, egotistical male chefs.
No food is worth such flashing tempers and insults. Even more laid-back chefs, such as Jamie Oliver and Gary Rhodes, are tanked up on testosterone, driven, demonically ambitious and competitive. I watched Rhodes on TV recently when he was touring India and meeting ordinary people who cook well; a middle-aged mother showing him vegetarian delicacies had to admonish him for taking over the kitchen. It was a delicious moment.
Last week Antonio Carluccio spoke movingly on Desert Island Discs about his mother's cooking, which gave him the passion that has made him famous. It reminded me of my mother: food was an expression of love for her family, her identity, her generosity and profound sense of duty. For men cooking is a challenge, a fight, proof of male prowess. Just watch them at the barbecue.
I have been writing a memoir, The Settler's Cookbook, full of stories of how food has moulded my personality, values and family. Many dishes are forever linked to pleasures or unspeakable pain. I remember the recipes that won me the heart of my English husband who had come over, carrying a book of Wendy Cope poems - spinach with dhal and chilli prawns and chappati. In a notebook I found scribbled Idi Amin's favourite goat stew recipe, written by a college friend, one of the mistresses he had killed; exiled Ugandan Asians smuggled diamonds packed in mashed potato patties. And I remember the pudding my mum made to celebrate the beauty of Diana, all creamy and rose-flavoured.
Before embarking on my book, I searched out writers who had written evocatively about food in their lives; all but one were women, such as the formidable Claudia Roden and Ruth Reichl, the New York Times restaurant critic. For these women food is heart and soul, an extension of their feminine sensibility. For Darroze, too. Gordon and Marco may be more famous and rich but I reckon years from now Roden and Darroze will still be remembered - and the raucous male chefs now in our faces will have been happily forgotten.
Reader views (3)
Hey, such sweeping generalisations? Men cook for to show their prowess? What? I cook because I like to eat, as does my girlfriend.
Could we please stop turning everything into men versus women? If you're going to continue to do so either stay in the playground or choose someone other than Gordon Ramsay as a basis for your stereotyping of men...
- Md, London, UK
Delicious food for healthy life and family.
- M Amjad, London
Its my chapatti and I fry if I want to.
- Terry, watford, england
