Too Many Ch(i)efs

Christmas is finished
Give or take a day or two,
Leaving me wondering
What else there is to do…
Life, it seems, proceeds
Irrespective of celebration-
The highs and the lows,
The family protestations.
The rain just keeps on falling,
World politics is appalling,
New casts focus on the great and the good
While the space in between
Is punctuated with… *FOOD*!
-Glorious or otherwise.
Leftovers come as no surprise:
A fridge-full of Christmas over-catering
Sat in tin-foil, silently waiting
While strings of men upon TV
Wax lyrical, indulgently
Reminding half the population
How they have surpassed a station
Occupied through gender inheritance,
Striking out with creative defence
That Man maketh Chef
While Woman is left
To mustering the maintenance
Of family sustenance,
An observation largely drawn
From cookery programmes
On Saturday morn*
Where women are audience but rarely guests
To balance the wisdoms of culinary-ness.
Is there really a matter as basic as gender
Underpinning the Battle of the Blender
Or is it that women don’t need the publicity
Being infinitely versed
In Domesticity…?



* recognition is due to the BBC’s inexorable  Saturday Kitchen…



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