Wanted: Dream dish

By Gina Angostura
NH Mirror Staff

Remember that old “Twilight Zone” episode where aliens come to earth and solve all the world’s problems, and everyone is happy, but then someone figures out the alien book they are translating, “To Serve Man,” is really a cookbook?

Well, I don’t. I’m way too young.

But seriously, although there have been a few (one) men in my life whom I wouldn’t mind seeing in a stew, it’s much easier to put together a perfect dinner party for eight, butternut squash soup through chocolate-raspberry fontaine, than it is to find a recipe for a relationship.

Just as in my food shopping, which consists mainly of frozen, unrecognizable chicken entrees bought to fool my coworkers into thinking I’m dieting, I want the ease of men who come ready packaged, like they do on Match or Yahoo.

You get the ingredients list right on the box: height, weight, eyes, hair, or lack thereof, even profession and salary. It’s so easy! I find quite a few I’d like to throw into my cart and move to the checkout with. Then I could take them home and unwrap them ... well, the metaphor just keeps going.

This way of sorting out my soulmate is quick and easy – “too old, nice eyes, too boring, too young, funny essay, too good-looking (yes, you can be too good-looking), too so-not-my-type – but reading the ingredients label is no guarantee that the result will be tasty and satisfying.

So I might have to start from scratch.

First, take a raw man, peel off all the bitterness about his ex-wife. Soak him in some cold water mixed with his favorite beer to wash away the relationship lethargy he’s been building up over the years. Careful, not TOO much beer; then he’s not useful for much of anything.

Add a little flattery – all men love this, but some can smell false praise a mile away, so be careful of the amount.
Stir vigorously, whatever that means.

Then, after a few months of simmering, with you carefully tending the pot, he might surprise you and break out into a full boil, making a surprise announcement, such as he thinks he might need you. If he ever needs anything. Which he doesn’t.

And then you’ll have the perfect dish, one that will keep you full and nourished for the rest of your life.
Oh, what am I even talking about? If I were any good at this, I’d already have a guy and my cupboards would no longer be bare. If you know what I mean.

I don’t even know what I mean. When it comes to dating, I’m all flash and no pan. Or is that all pancetta and no flan? I guess I’ll never get this cooking thing down.

Does your misery love company? Send Gina an e-mail at singlecynic@thenhmirror.com.