The prosecution: Lynsey
When Jim makes curry, it’s dolloped with the precision of a toddler doing finger painting
My husband of 25 years, Jim, doesn’t cook often, but when he does the presentation is shocking. It’s a running joke in our household. When I cook – which is most of the time, because I enjoy it – I take time to present things properly. Everything looks orderly and is nicely arranged. But with Jim, it’s a case of just throwing everything on the plate. My meal will look as if it’s just lost a bar fight. It’s a mess.
I am usually out working late when Jim cooks, so I do really appreciate coming home to a cooked dinner. But presentation is not his forte. The peas will be in the gravy, and the sausages will be precariously placed on top of the mash and the vegetables.
I like everything to be separate on the plate so you can see what you’re eating and really enjoy it.
I’m not fussy, and I don’t really have issues with food touching; it’s just that I don’t like being handed a plate where you can’t tell what’s what. When Jim makes curry, it’s dolloped with the precision of a toddler doing finger painting.
Food sliding off one side of the plate isn’t fun to eat. Neither is having to pick the vegetables out from under the meat. It hinders the dining experience because it feels as though your food is trying to make a break for it. Our daughter, Amanda, called Jim’s attempt at presenting food “abstract expressionism”, which I thought was quite funny.
I know Jim means well, but when he hands me a messy plate it feels as though it’s been made with less care. When I cook, my thoughtfully arranged plate says, “Darling, I made this for you.” When Jim cooks, his plate says: “Here. Eat.”
I’d love a little more tenderness. It takes 30 seconds to arrange things properly on the plate. Maybe – dare I dream? – he could wipe the edge of the plate with a tea towel and clear up any loose bits of food. I’m not asking for a Michelin star. I’m just asking him to treat the plate with a bit more tenderness.
The defence: Jim
When it comes to spooning out the meal, it’s like a big relief – I’m free from cooking
Lynsey always complains about my food presentation style, but I don’t think it’s an issue. I’m not on a cooking show, I’m a man who wants to eat in a hurry.
When I cook, I’m all about efficiency. I know how to make flavours work, but I don’t like to dilly-dally in the kitchen. Just get it done, that’s my motto. I cook for Lynsey when she comes back late from work. The kitchen is usually her forte, so I think she should be appreciative that I’ve managed to do it in her absence without burning it.
I’m not a great cook. That’s her remit. But when I do, it’s just about getting it done and on the plate. Do I gently nestle the salmon on to a pillow of salad with tweezers? No, I just whack it on. She says I “slap” the food, which isn’t my intention, though I suppose I’m not checking where I place it. The meat can go on top of the veg, the sauce isn’t contained in the middle of the plate. It’s not deliberate – it’s just because I’m rushing or hungry.
I’m not trying to win a food presentation award, I’m just trying to make sure the risotto doesn’t glue itself to the pan and I don’t start a fire. When it comes to spooning out the meal, it’s like a big relief. I’m free from cooking and just have to get the food over the finish line and on to the plate. That’s probably why it looks as though I’m being careless, when really I’m just happy it’s done. Lynsey still eats it and says it tastes good. I’m only cooking for her and our daughter. They don’t need fancy presentation.
Home cooking is supposed to be charming and rustic and real, which is what my style is. I could slow it down and be a little more delicate, but it wouldn’t be authentic to who I am, and I’m sure Lynsey wouldn’t want to change me. After 25 years of marriage, I don’t think that’s possible anyway. I just don’t believe that a messy plate should be mistaken for a loveless dinner. That slapping of food on to the plate is the sound of me showing up for her. And that should be more important than what it looks like.
The jury of Guardian readers
Should Jim be more careful when serving up?
Food is a feast for the eyes and the soul. If you’ve put time, effort and love into your cooking, slapping it on a plate doesn’t exactly scream “I care.” Just take 30 seconds and show the love!
Yasmin, 53
When showing up for your partner, you shouldn’t rush. You wouldn’t hastily throw on your suit for a work dinner you’re the plus-one at – you take time to look good, for their sake. If Jim can cook well, why mix up all the flavours at the final hurdle?
Jack, 23
Jim is not guilty-ish! There’s a whole lot of pettiness going on here. Lynsey is being unnecessarily fussy – the food tastes good, which is really all that matters. But come on, Jim! You’re doing a kind thing for Lynsey, why spoil it just because you can?
Rae, 73
Jim, you’re clearly a good cook but you’re falling at the last hurdle on several fronts. A touch of class and a moment of care will finesse how you show up for Lynsey, inspire your daughter and make the dish sing.
Jon, 37
“If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well” comes to mind here. How food is presented affects our appetite and pleasure, so all Jim needs to do is spend an extra 30 seconds to serve it properly – plus a good while longer working out why he feels the need to be so dismissive of Lynsey’s request.
Chris, 77
Now you be the judge
In our online poll, tell us: should Jim plate up with a bit more finesse?
The poll closes on Wednesday 11 June at 10am BST
Last week’s results
We asked whether Amber should stop unplugging her boyfriend’s phone charger because she worries about fire risk.
62% of you said yes – Amber is guilty
38% of you said no – Amber is not guilty