Dull and Domesticated?

by Gwen Cooper — July 30, 2007

Maybe it's all the recent talk between Robert and me about moving in together, but I'm finding myself becoming unaccountably domestic these days. My apartment has traditionally been what could best be described as "single girl chic"--well, maybe not so much the "chic" part. Clothes and magazines strewn around haphazardly; scattered cat toys; refrigerator empty except for an unopened bottle of champagne and a few beauty products that work best when chilled...you get the idea. Lately, though, I've been finding myself making more of a point of keeping things tidy. My scented candles and pictures of drunken nights out with college friends seem to be migrating in the direction of a storage box in my closet. Perhaps the biggest change in my housekeeping regimen, though, is the sudden appearance of pots and pans and cook-able foodstuffs in my cabinets.

It's true: I've actually started cooking.

I can't say that I've never enjoyed cooking, simply because I had never tried it--cooking being something that never appealed to me in the abstract. I never saw the point in spending 3 or 4 hours (when you factor in time spent grocery shopping) preparing a meal that would most likely be consumed in 30 minutes or less. Especially in New York, where you can get great food delivered, piping hot, right to your door in under 20 minutes.

But something seems to have gotten into me lately. I suggested to Robert a meal cooked in one night last week, and I discovered that I actually enjoyed the cooking process. There was something soothing and almost Zen-like about measuring, chopping, tossing, tasting...and it probably didn't hurt that Robert would come in to the kitchen from time to time to grab me around the waist and kiss the back of my neck (a particular weakness of mine).

The affectionate moments with Robert were great, but I almost enjoyed the time alone with my spices and recipe book more. And, in the days since that night, I've found myself actually (this is hard to admit, because it sounds so "mom-like") clipping recipes from magazines and cruising the farmer's market on weekend mornings.

Being resolutely un-domestic has been a part of my self-image for a long time. My ineptitude in the kitchen always seemed to be a piece of my being independent, focused on my career, and generally having "better"--or more exciting--things to do with my time than spend it in the kitchen.

But it's all okay. I mean, I don't mind changing my perceptions or "broadening my horizons" or any of that stuff. I'd just hate to think of this as a sign that I'm getting old--because that's one thing I absolutely refuse to do.

Gwen Cooper is the author of Diary of a South Beach Party Girl, recently published by Simon & Schuster. To read all of Gwen Cooper's posts in "The Dating Life," click here.