Isn't Culinary Prowess a Competitive Advantage?

It tastes good, I promise

I'm confused. Like proper total perplex-ion (perplexity is the correct word, but perplex-ion expresses my total aghast-ness, oh making up words is fun).

The Beginning
I've always been that ninja chick, against type gal. I think that came from being sandwiched between two brothers as a middle child (I have two sisters as well, but I'm between the boys).  My closest play mates were dudes and I was a tom boy. A tom boy that loved to cook. Yeah, I would climb trees, play soccer (which I was lousy at), punch boys and make meat pies for my siblings and friends right after.

The Middle
Then I hit "Oh my gosh she has boobs-hood" a.k.a the awakening a.k.a adolescence. Boys weren't brothers any more, they were...interesting... at least some of them. Cooking for my siblings and friends around that age reduced because I went off to boarding school. But I do remember at the age of 14 I fell in like. I'd just mastered how to cook pap/sadza/stiff porridge. My first go at it, I was 13 and the outcome was a hot mess. I made it for my father when my mum was away. It didn't cook properly and was too stiff but he ate it and suffered a severe stomach ache all in the name of not hurting his daughter's feelings. So by the time I was 14, and dude that I fancied asked me "can you cook?" the conversation went on like this...

Me: Of course I can cook!
Dude: Bet you can't cook sadza!
Me: Whaaat?

An hour later, we were at my place and I'm making sadza with him monitoring my process. All's going well until...

Dude: Why aren't you putting salt in?

Salt?  I'd never put salt in sadza...

Dude: All nice sadza, has salt in it.

I'd never heard of that, but I wanted to prove to guy that I liked that I could cook. A few sprinkles later, the sadza was seasoned. A few minutes later, we ate and it was dreadful. Only after failing to finish the meal did he confess that he'd never cooked sadza his whole life and didn't know if salt went into it or not. his rationale was since salt goes into everything, it would be fine in sadza too.Punk! I unliked him on the spot and vowed to never cook for a guy again.

The Later
Fast forward to adulthood, university going age. I'm in uni and I meet some other guy that I thought was interesting and he asks me to cook. I flat out refused and told him the next guy I would cook for would be my husband, because at least he'd be kind enough to eat what I cook even if its terrible, just like my dad did. Coz that's what good men do right? They eat your chow and say "hmmm aaaah... yum, nice baby..." This dude was taken aback by that comment. But I continued to meet (African) guys that would ask/expect/desire for their woman to cook and serve them.  Boy did that fuel the feminist flame in me.

What was with this expectation for a woman to cook? Did men still seriously expect women to cook and have babies whilst the man goes out and hunts?  Yes! I would hear stories of fellow African sisters that were dating nouveaux liberal African men. In the dating phase of the relationship, both would cook, clean, wash dishes. Some and in my own experience had a boyfriend that cooked better than they did and loved cooking for their woman.  But once the relationship crossed over to matrimony, some female friends reported that the once easy going in the kitchen brother was no more.  Brothers started demanding the African step-ford wife that cooks on most if not all days. Schizo!!! But it just confirmed that deep in all of us, is something familiar, something we experienced growing up and right or wrong, when the time calls for it, we will be given an opportunity to revert to the familiar or challenge it. Many of us do the former, without even processing it.

The Now
So back to my aghast-ness. These cumulative experiences, and the busyness of life, just made cooking a painful chore for me. I stopped enjoying it, did it because take way is too expensive and I prefer home cooked food to fast food. And if a brother DARED ask me to cook for him... no... they stopped daring.

Then something switched, I don't know what, but the love has returned. In fact not just a love for cooking, cooking for people! Male and female. I don't care.  This penny dropped when I had two gents over for dinner for a catch up one day and I gave my heart into a meal so it was such a joy for me to prepare. Until the main invitee looked at the plate I'd laid before him and said "I've eaten...I'm good." Er, what? I am a new person that will cook for men now, with no baggage. "AND YOU WON'T EAT!!!?" The food looked and tasted amazing, the other guy who was digging in confirmed it. He looked at his friend in horror when he saw my dismay and said "She really made an effort..." so main invitee took an obligatory nibble and expressed no appreciation for my prowess. Rude, right?

The Future
Have times changed?  Is cooking ability no longer celebrated or desired? Is it simply expected? After withholding the honour that is the experience of my culinary prowess, I demand that if it is shared, you be impressed. That you (African man) find it a competitive advantage (for what you may ask...I'll leave you to fill the gaps). Why? Because I can cook well people (still working on the presentation side) ... and not a lot of women can cook well.  Where is my reward for my change of heart...WHEEEEEERE? I want answers.