I’ve been cooking all my meals at home for the past two weeks. My roommates have also been eating the food. I clean my cooking utensils, pots and pans, and my knives. I feel differently about cleaning my knives and cleaning the pots/pans.

First, the Freudian step (knife = penis; pot = vagina). I think it also has to do with my feeling of value. Knives are unique, non-fungible. My knives are well-crafted and have a long history with me (I’ve had them for 5 years). Pots come and go.

In general, however, I dislike cleaning pots and pans, because that work is not valued. It hardly needs noting that cooking and cleaning is a feminized labor in most households and undervalued because of this. As the only immigrant Asian in the house, I’m well-placed to be the most feminized.

On the other hand, I rather enjoy the role of provider of food. I think I would enjoy it more if it came with more prestige and power. In other words, if my housemates came to depend upon me for their meals. Unfortunately for my dreams of house-domination, we live in cheap-eats central - the Mission.

The market, food, power and me. As incoherent as a lentil stew.’

Photo is from hazy_jenius