Someone started talking about golf so to change the subject to something else I suggested that we should all go to night school to revise and upskill our culinary abilities.
They were on to me, they just said "well, you arrange it" and returned to handicaps, bogeys and such pointless matters.
Being emotionally totally unsuited to golf I agreed and moved to another table where golf was not a priority.
A week or two later we found ourselves with a bunch of about 20 other men, mostly 50 upwards, and a schoolboy in the huge kitchens of our local polytechnic cooking school.
More about the lad shortly.
The two teachers, one a very well-known and respected chef, set the tone for the weeks to come. We were there to work and learn.
We would learn a minimum of two recipes and a maximum of four, even five, per night. No horsing around, we paid to learn to cook well and learn we would.
The course's title "Blokes with Pinnies" seemed a chance to get together for a natter, perhaps a wine and learn a recipe or two. All much laid back. Not to be.
Cooking is really hard work if you are doing it in a restaurant environment. We were there to work and work we did, prep, chopping, boiling, sautéing, kneading and washing endless dishes.
Being guys when we arrived we would all select our cooking knives for the night and impress each other with our sharpening skills with a sharpening steel.
All slashing back and forward like a bunch of aggressive rugby forwards getting psyched up in the dressing room before a game.
The course was a full academic year split into terms. Only two of us from our fishing group did the whole year, the others could not handle the pace, falling by the wayside as things got too difficult.
My mate and I would just reinforce ourselves weekly with a shared bottle of good pinot noir and box on.
The chefs came to quietly admire us but advised us both to not give up our day jobs, we are not that good. They did offer the chance to work as prep cooks in their commercial business. I declined, too much like hard work.
Our young man from college also completed the full year.
He was off to university the following year and had decided that four years of two-minute noodles, half-cooked roasts and baked beans were not for him. He also opined that the cooking skills may improve his chances with his fellow female students.
Apparently - and I had to learn this from an 18-year-old - certain women find a man who can cook well quite alluring. Nice to know but a bit pointless for us older chaps. Never too old to learn, I suppose.
Rob Rattenbury.
Whatever we cooked we would sample on the night and take the rest home for the family.
After a few weeks of the bride's compliments and enthusiasm for my continued attendance at the course, I offered to take over the cooking in the household.
My wife is an excellent cook but after 35 years she was happy to hand over the apron. So for the past 14 or so years, I have been the Chef at the Shack. What a wonderful hobby.
Being a bloke and liking good quality tools I promptly invested in decent knives and decent European cooking utensils, usually German.
I began building a cooking library, even designing my own dishes.
Every day was a new adventure. I would not decide what to cook until late afternoon at work, pick up what I needed on the way home and thoroughly enjoy putting a meal together.
Now retired I am still quite adventurous with meals but have the time to plan better. Also saves money as well.
