Cooking is fun January 7, 2007Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.
Yes it fucking well is, and don’t you even pretend it isn’t. I’d never really thought so before myself, either, but I was out yesterday – actually out! – and I walked past an Event-Kochstudio, which is a place where hobby chefs go and get taught to cook. But this was a Saturday night. I don’t think it was a straightforward cooking course. No, I think it was a night out – OK, at least with a positive upshot. Hopefully you’ve learnt a new skill by the end of it, which is unlike any night out I ever have, where the only thing I learn is that there is no limit to how much poison I am willing to insert undiluted into my body or to my lack of social skills – which didn’t look nearly as much fun as not doing it would have been. “Poor them,” I thought as I ambled past with my bottle of wine and after eights. It was Epiphany, after all. (Just looked up Epiphany in my dic to make sure and, although we were, ostensibly, celebrating Orthodox Christmas, the dic claims that January 6th is not really Christmas in the Eastern Church but the celebration of Christ’s baptism AND first miracle at Cana. Two celebrations for the price of one. (But what was the miracle at Cana?) I don’t know why I’m not a Christian really. I love the church, and would much rather hear hymns than go to a pop or – heaven forfend – a rock concert. All that noise! Although I did see The Smiths at “London’s Top Nite Spot” and that was awfully good and I lost an espadrille and my cousin lost her bra. Anyway, I don’t believe in god, which I think is a prerequisite for being religious, unless in Denmark.)
The party for the Kochstudio evening was your regular gaggle of middle-class, 30-something Berliners, probably all from Cologne and various other bits of Nordrhein-Westfalen. The girls had big jaws. The boys were boringly beautiful. And they looked as if they were trying very hard to enjoy themselves. I wondered – I ambled past very slowly – if this was the upshot of a bad idea that someone had had after their second glass of Babycham – or Glühwein at the Weihnachtsmarkt – and that everyone was too polite – definitely no Berliners in the group, on second thoughts – to pooh-pooh. “Ja, Sabine, tolle Idee! I’ve heard it only costs 400 euros for us to go and learn how to chop an onion properly. Hopefully we’ll learn so much that we’ll then be able to go on Das perfekte Dinner.” (And, yes, in case you’re wondering, there is a Celebrity Perfect Dinner too.)
Still, who am I to diss cooking-for-fun? If it’s an alternative to binge-drinking, then maybe chopsy Sabine is on to something. And the something-useful-as-recreation model has endless possibilities. I might suggest to all my foreign pals a German-grammar-for-fun evening any Saturday now. We’d have a groovy venue, of course, and the blackboard would be really chic, and our teacher would be cool – probably a pop-star (or priest) in his spare time – and we’d each pay 80 euros, and we’d chant, “Ich bin, du bist…” but it would be FUN. And we could probably, when the fun-zenith had been reached, go from there to dressmaking-is-fun (run by some porn-star) and from there to hairdressing-is-fun (run by some hairdresser).
I could do with making 400 euros or so myself on a Saturday night, actually, so I might hang a plaque outside the door – oh god. I can already see the neighbours’ bitchy little notes. “If the plaque-hanger doesn’t own up by the end of the month, we’ll have to have it removed by some Amt or other – there’s probably a plaque department – at EVERYONE’S expense” – advertising English-is-fun evenings, where every expat Nordrhein-Westfalen Sabine in Berlin comes and sprays me in spittle, for cash, and I correct their English. English lessons, only funkier.
You know, guys and galz, I think I’m onto something.