I find that most online reading is, at best, the intellectual equivalent of a US Candy bar: bland and not memorable. I  frequently look back across an hour or two and realize that a) the time is gone, and b) I have virtually no retention of what I have read. Perhaps this has to do with how I am reading, or perhaps it is the medium, but in many cases, it may be the content.

Moving forward, I think that I need to stop reading Slate–or at least anything by Hanna Rosin or Emily Bazelon. Not because these authors necessarily fall into that trap, but rather because I completely fail to connect with what they are attempting to communicate and it irritates me to no end.

The latest example? Ms. Rosin’s screed against men in the kitchen. As a famous jailor once said, “What we have here is a failure to communicate.” Okay, so she and her husband can’t effectively talk about cooking. He notices ways to improve technique (such as properly sealing foil when using it to steam food so that the steam doesn’t escape) and nags her about it. She alluded to similar critiques regarding his household cleaning techniques.

And then there is the example of how she marked a recipe, collected the ingredients, and then, while she was taking the children to a party, he had the nerve to cook the dish. In response, she physically attacked him (threw the cookbook at him)!

Failure to communicate–he likely thought that she wanted to eat this particular dish.

Here’s what really set me off:

But for those of us who like to cook, who are attached to this traditionally female, primal way of showing love, the intrusion [of men into the kitchen] is a problem. . . .

The problem is more subtle and at least half my fault. Before we had kids, we both loved to cook and did it prodigiously and with great joy. After we had kids, everything changed. When we got home from work, we had the choice of cooking or hanging out with the kids. I always chose the kids. When I did cook, it was out of a sense of duty and obligation, while he continued to feel the joy.

At least half your fault, Ms. Rosin???

The problem seems to lie in your own internal conflict. On the one hand, you are “attached to this traditionally female, primal way of showing love.” On the other hand, you “always chose the kids,” and cook “out of a sense of duty and obligation.” Pick a side, distinguish between the activities (cooking the hobby and cooking the task of getting food on the table), or just do something, anything! Because it was your choice that left your husband to fill in the kitchen gap (you don’t suggest that HE said, “hey honey, would you play with the kids? I want to play with the new induction hob”), not a mutual decision arrived at through discussion (unsurprising, given your inability to communicate elsewhere in this piece).

Women in my cohort won’t face this problem. Very few of them fell in love with cooking–too busy with telescopes, logic games, and soccer practice, I suppose. Consequently, very few of them can cook and very few of the remainder express any desire to do more food prep than it takes to organize the take out menus. Nevertheless, some of the time, prep must be done (though not to the extent of pureeing bay leaves), and on those occasions: the right kitchen gadget might help a novice get the job done.