Young women are making their own informed choices. A wardrobe full of expensive suits with shoulder pads that make women look like spined citrus fruit bugs, and big bags that reek pretentious bad taste (and lonely hotel rooms) are not much comfort on long weekend public holidays or Christmas.

As well, those flannel shirts, khaki bibs and braces overalls with the Doc Martin boots have very limited appeal too.

Choice is what it is all about. So the old feminists can feel free not to direct young women in what they have to think, say and do anymore. That was all so last century and well back in last century too!

Better cooks? Men or women? You've got to be kidding!

Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, in my olden days, there was a pizzeria in Sydney, which I went to.

In the pizzeria there was an attractive young maiden (at least that's what her family believed), who waited table in the salon. She and the family owned and ran the pizzeria. They were Sicilian.

Well, as things turned out, it wasn't too long before a relationship developed between my good self and the maiden and I began to frequent the place much more frequently. After a while, it got hot in the kitchen and the next thing you know announcements were being made about the engagement and wedding. Expensive rings were purchased. True story!

Anyway, seeing as how I was soon to be embraced by the family, naturally I was expected to work in the family business. Only people who have ever worked in a pizzeria/restaurant have any idea of how really hard people work in the food industry. In the pizzeria, it being a family affair, no one cared less who did what or who was the best cook. Everyone just got stuck into doing the work. And work we did. Everyone cooked. From the 14 year-old son to the Signor himself. Even I cooked. The maiden cooked, the Signora cooked - everyone cooked.

We all prepared ingredients, carried drinks and stocked the bar, washed-up, cleaned tables, served food, exchanged pleasantries with the charmingly drunk scumbag customers. Got the picture? It was like war when it got busy and it got busy a lot. The place cooked really good food and it was a great financial success.

The point here is that food was prepared and cooked in accordance with tradition by the family. These were real people who worked hard and nobody cared whether the cook was a man or a woman. The customers came and came back because they enjoyed eating the food.

So who cooks best? The answer is simply anybody who cooks food that I like.

Cheers.

That was the business. What about the delightful cultural tradition fo meals and get-tigethers with the extended family? Often too, with neighbours joining in?

Why wouldn't young people want to re-awaken these traditions?

Sure beats sitting around a table in a hotel somewhere 'networking'. Spiny citrus bugs in 'power-dressing' jackets. Charlie Chaplin look-alikes, but no jokes! LOL