**
Recently on X, I have seen an increasing number of voices expressing discomfort with recipe captions and titles that use third-party evaluations, such as "A recipe my husband raved about" or "The kids ate it all up!"
Why not speak from your own perspective? It feels uncomfortable to have someone else's evaluation pushed on you. These are the kinds of voices I'm hearing. Actually, when I first started as a chef, I used to post captions like "My husband said he liked this." I felt that borrowing a third party's voice helped remove a sense of subjective bias. In particular, my recipes can sometimes look bland at first glance or seem a bit unusual and not universally appealing. Therefore, I wanted to effectively convey that the flavors are actually quite popular.
And above all, I was simply happy that someone close to me enjoyed what I made. I think I was just writing it innocently as it was.
However, through repeated posting, I realized that the words I spoke could carry a different meaning than intended. It can come across as pressure—that it is desirable to cook food that is evaluated highly by your family, and that the reaction of your family is part of the success of the cooking. Since realizing this, I have reflected on my shallow choice of words and have completely stopped using such expressions. I have no plans to use them in the future.
On the other hand, I also wonder if there is a need to deny the feeling of being happy when you cook for someone and they enjoy it.
So, why are words spoken out of personal goodwill or joy sometimes received so heavily? This question became an opportunity for me to think about the "should-be" premises that cling to home cooking.
The "Should-Be" Standards Remaining in Home Cooking
While thinking about this issue, I was struck by a Q&A posted on social media by restaurant producer Shunsuke Inada.
Mr. Inada, while touching on the persuasiveness and functional aspects of third-party narration in recipe expressions, described the true nature of the discomfort surrounding home cooking as the "ghost of the Showa-era Good Wife, Wise Mother ideology."
I could only nod deeply at his points regarding the role expectations of cooking shared in books and on the web, and the sense of obligation that still remains. Even if the person just wrote "I was happy my husband liked it," those words overlap with the long-standing value that "it is a virtue for women to cater to their family's tastes and make them happy."
Pure personal feelings and social norms exist in the same space. That is why I understood that the message can land more heavily than the sender intended. In particular, there is an asymmetry in the expectation of "it's only natural" that has been historically placed on the act of a woman cooking for her partner versus a man doing so.
Therefore, there is a structure where a woman's words "I made this for my husband" can unintentionally look like the glorification of devotions to the family.
The Same Act, But the Social Context is Not the Same
In considering this issue, we cannot ignore the fact that even for the same act of "cooking for a partner," the social context in which men and women are placed is not the same.
Historically, men have not been expected to take on home cooking as a natural daily role. I think it was often a choice between doing it entirely for oneself or making it for the other person because it makes oneself happy. Therefore, when a man cooks according to his partner's preferences, it is easily perceived as a voluntary act or a sign of thoughtfulness toward the partner.
On the other hand, in the case of women who have lived through an era where being a full-time housewife was the standard, home cooking itself has a history of being expected as something "natural to do." Therefore, even if it is a voluntary act of kindness for the individual, it can overlap with the traditional imposition of roles where a wife or mother cooks for the family.
Of course, I am not saying this applies to all households today. The division of housework and cooking is changing. The number of households where men routinely cook is increasing. What I want to say here is not about differences in personality or thinking between men and women. It is that the roles historically expected around home cooking have been asymmetrical.
Because of that accumulation, the same act can contain different meanings.
That is why when a woman speaks of "making it for her husband" or "her husband being happy" out of pure kindness, it can sometimes look like the glorification of serving the family to the recipient, even though it is her own free choice.
One's free choice and the social expectation that "a woman should do so" get mixed together when seen by a third party.
I believe that this gap is what creates the unique weight in the words surrounding home cooking.
"Cooking for Someone" and "Having to Cook" are Different
That said, there is no need to deny the act of cooking for someone else.
Wanting to make something that a person likes of your own volition and feeling happy when they eat it is a very natural emotion.
There should be days when the happy face of someone else becomes the motivation for cooking.
The problem is when it changes from "doing it because I want to" to an obligation of "having to do it for the family."
Conversely, I think it's also wrong to think in extremes, like "focusing on others is bad, so I must only cook for myself."
There is no hierarchy between making something for someone else and making something for yourself. What is important is to what extent you are choosing that of your own will.
The Reality is That You Can't Just "Just Choose"
It is not enough to just say "you should choose freely for yourself."
In reality, especially in households with small children, you can't just say "I don't want to cook today, so I'll just eat something random for myself."
You have to prepare meals for the children. To keep the family's life running, someone in the household must prepare meals in some form.
The time, money, and options that can be allocated to meal preparation vary greatly depending on work, childcare, nursing care, family structure, and health issues. In other words, in reality, many people cannot live a life where they only cook when they truly want to.
That is why I do not want to turn the issues surrounding home cooking into a simple theory of self-responsibility, like "if you don't like it, don't make it" or "just cook for yourself."
First, Reduce the Burden Itself if You Can
To avoid making cooking too much of an obligation, it is important to first reduce the burden itself if possible. Use prepared foods or frozen foods. Use eating out. Settle for something simple. Share the work with a partner or family. Reduce the number of dishes. There are many ways. However, to what extent these options can be used also varies greatly depending on household finances, family structure, the area where you live, allergies, chronic illnesses, and nursing care diets. Not everyone can easily use prepared foods or eat out. It's not a story that can be settled by saying "if you don't want to make it, just buy it."
The important thing is not to make making everything from scratch every time the only correct answer within each person's living conditions. Even if it is difficult to choose not to prepare a meal at all, you don't have to do your absolute best every time. You can prioritize making sure the day's life runs smoothly over completing a dish.
First, reduce the burden where you can. Then, for the cooking time that still remains, think about whether you can have your own voluntary motivation. I believe this order is very important.
Don't Make "Delicious Food" the Only Goal
Another factor making home cooking heavy is the tendency for making delicious food to become the ultimate goal.
Of course, it's nice if it turns out delicious. However, there is a limit to consistently producing a high level of perfection in daily home cooking.
Moreover, if the conditions for success are that the family said it was delicious or the children finished it all, then the reactions of others, which you cannot control, are included in the evaluation of the person who cooked.
Children may suddenly stop eating something they were eating until yesterday. There are days when they won't eat no matter how much you try. Partners also have their own physical condition, mood, and preferences for the day. If you take all of that on yourself every time, thinking "my cooking was bad" or "I should have tried harder," it's only natural that cooking becomes painful.
Reclaim Your Own Motivation in the Cooking Process
As someone who delivers recipes, I want to provide not only results like "if you make this, your family will be happy" or "you can make it delicious without failing," but also a perspective where you can find interest in the process of cooking itself.
The sensation when cutting ingredients. The changes when applying heat. The moment the aroma rises. The process where the taste changes depending on the seasonings. The sense of self-efficacy and the occupational therapy-like healing effect. Cooking should have many charms in the process of making it, in a dimension different from eating the finished product.
However, this is also not a story of "cooking is fun, so you should enjoy it." Some people don't like cooking itself. There are days when you are too exhausted to have the luxury of enjoying it. If you then feel "I'm no good because I can't enjoy it," that also becomes a new burden.
That's why, first, reduce the burden as much as possible. Then, for the time you are forced to cook anyway, try to have one small motivation of your own, such as "I wonder what will happen if I do this to this ingredient" or "I want to try this method today," rather than just the external purpose of "I have to make something the family will eat."
Even if you can't completely eliminate the obligation, gradually increase the parts where you can be the protagonist within the time that remains as an obligation. That is the perspective I want to deliver through my recipes and writing.
Why I Wrote "Octopus Celery Avocado"
My recently published essay collection, Octopus Celery Avocado, is a book containing newly written episodes about cooking for oneself and cooking for others.
Starting my work as a chef, I realized once again that home cooking is surrounded by too many "should-be" standards. For whom should you cook? How properly should you make it? What constitutes success?
Sometimes the evaluation and expectations attached to cooking become a greater burden than the act of cooking itself. That's why I want to try letting go of those premises once.
For those who face the reality of having to cook for their livelihood, first, reduce the burden. And instead of making the family's evaluation or the finished taste the only goal, find your own interest or fun in the process of making it.
I wrote this book hoping it would be an opportunity to think about such things.
I have no intention of denying the feeling of being genuinely happy when you make something for someone and they are pleased. But don't let home cooking end as a "job to be evaluated by the family." Sometimes enjoy the process proactively, and sometimes just cook matter-of-factly to keep life running. I want people to be able to choose their own way of dealing with cooking, including both of those aspects.
I hope that Octopus Celery Avocado and this text will be an opportunity to stop and think about the obligations and evaluations surrounding cooking and find your own sense of distance from it.
