I have an inexplicable fondness for old cookbooks and cooking contraptions. In my cupboards you can find two different fondue pots, a electric crêpe griddle, and a chafing dish among other things. I have cookbooks dedicated to each of these pieces of equipment written by women with degrees in Home Economics complete with advice for 'cooking as performance'.
I must admit that I am mostly an armchair chef. The ratio of time spent cooking to time spent reading cookbooks is woefully small. My beloved, Matthew, makes dinner six days a week, and I am only responsible for Sunday dinner, and such late night snacks as I feel called to prepare. This means I have a bit more freedom to try new and complicated things (much to Matthew's bemusement).
