The wife prepares a simple meal, but her husband insists on homemade pies and stuffed cabbage rolls: “You’re on maternity leave, so you’ve got loads of free time!”

In the first years of marriage, we lived perfectly normal lives togetherhe agreed to everything! says Alice, age 28. We both worked hard, saving up every pound for the deposit on a mortgage. Food was never a problem. My husband ate whatever was on his plate! I never stressed about it, bought a slow cooker, whipped up meals quickly porridge, stew, soups. Not once did he complain! Well, occasionally hed sigh, gazing out the window, and muse about wanting something special.

What sort of special? Oh, you know, pancakes stuffed with meat, beef Wellington, Cornish pasties. He has this bizarre obsession with complicated dishes, things that need to be boiled, chilled, sieved, dough kneaded, baked again, and finely choppedall that jazz in the kitchen that takes an entire day! And dont even think about buying ready-made stuff; absolutely not! Food must be homemade

Hmm. When did he begin having these culinary daydreams?

Pretty much two years after I started maternity leave Honestly, I dont enjoy cooking. But I always cook, dont I! My husband works all day in an office, bringing in money for us. Theres never a situation where he comes home and theres nothing to eat. Theres always a hot meal ready; not just pasta and sausages. But still, nothing fancy: potatoes and beef, roast chicken, soup, bubble and squeak, salad. And yet my husband protests! He says, Youre at home all day, totally capable of making some dough, homemade dumplings, and cabbage rolls I see. Maternity leavewith limitless time, day wide open, and the small matter of a child to look after. Men, as usual, seem to forget that part

Yeah, its not even really about the child! Our daughter is pure gold, a gift of a child. Shes calm and considerateyou can stick her on a chair next to you in the kitchen, hand her a lump of dough, and shell sit for ages. We sing songs, recite rhymes. The childs no trouble! I just dont see the point in wasting time on that nonsense. Especially since I wont eat that food myself! Im on a diet, trying to cut back on meat, given up flour completely. Am I meant to roll out dumplings purely for my husband? Isnt that a bit rich?

So Alice and her husband live a decent life: he rushes home from workno dawdling, never late, goes to the office party only once a year (and even then only for a quick pint). He helps with the babyby choice, mind youplays games, gives her baths, takes her for walks.

The only issue: lately hes been craving pickled onions, and last week we had a proper row about itdidnt speak for days.

My husband honestly cant grasp why its so tricky: make a bit of dough, fry a dozen pancakes, stuff them with meat? Hes offended because he thinks his wife cooks out of pity, choosing the easy route. He wants her to make an effort, surprise him, delight him

Its hard work! Alice grumbles. Cook the meat, then the dough, fry the pancakes, stuff them I wouldnt eat that, so Id need to cook something else for myself and our daughter!

Alice insists that no one in modern Britain makes beef pies, aspic, or stuffed cabbage rolls anymore. Maybe once a yearsay, at Christmas or New Years. And even then, young people arent faffing about with festive feasts. In everyday life? Forget it. If youre desperate for pies, you can order them online, though its hardly cheapespecially when youve got a wife on maternity leave and a mortgage. Not exactly a daily treat.

Her husband compares Alice to his granny, who always smelled of cakes and bunsworked all her life, yet still managed everything, even with a clutch of kids.

Thats just it! Alice huffs. Women in the last century simply had nothing much to do in the evenings. No TV shows, no internet, so they invented chores for themselveslaundry, baking, dumplings. But honestly, I think its better to spend time with your child, go for a walk, rather than spend three hours dancing around a stove

Recently, Alice called her mother-in-law, who began cooing about how the way to a mans heart is through his stomach, and how its not hard to cook what he wants. Apparently, my husband already aired his complaints to her.

I told her I dont eat stuffed cabbage rolls, so I dont want to cook them! Of course, instantly: coo-coo-coo, as if thats the be-all and end-all; and apparently men cook too!

So, our gourmet husband, what do you think? Is it cheeky to demand an array of dishes every day when theres already fresh, hot food on the table? Should he just eat whats given and not make a fuss, and if he wants something special, roll up his sleeves and make it himself?

Or should Alice listen to her husbands culinary desires?