Divorce: Was it your chicken salad?

Gwyneth Paltrow’s GOOP and Mario Batali’s chicken salad could cause your marriage to combust!
I just got this week’s GOOP –always fun and entertaining. Gwyneth had a bunch of recipes she got from dinner with Mario Batali, the famed chef. It got me to thinking about this whole idea of the “way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” something my grandmother always said as she berated me for my inferior skills in the kitchen.  Is that still true? Can a woman cook herself to a successful marriage? Can she miscook herself to a divorce?
I think it may be true. It may behoove you to study the great chefs if your marriage is in trouble. In all of my research there is definitely a recurring theme about men. They want to be fed. Properly. And yes, they want to get shagged as well. And they want a good mother for their children. But I think feeding is at the top of the pyramid. If you feed them well and properly, they are more likely to stick around than if you routinely burn the water like some people I know.
So, I would say definitely buy some cookbooks today and start to re-direct your marriage if it’s on the precipice. If you can’t afford cookbooks, subscribe to Gwyneth Paltrow’s  GOOP which always has a bunch of good recipes that sound really sexy too, and can seduce your husband into shutting up about “divorce.”  Listen to what Gwyneth says was on the menu:

To begin with, Mario served a beautiful Spanish cheese, Torta del Casar, with grissini (Italian breadsticks), crostini with tomato and boquerones (Spanish anchovies prepared in vinegar), and cold white wine.

Doesn’t that sound incredibly romantic? By the time your rattle off this menu to your husband in your most provocative voice, he’ll be salivating in more ways than one. You’ll be lucky if he gets through dinner, actually (ha ha ha). And he will fall in love with you again. And you would have effectively saved your marriage. I mean, think about it: getting divorced because you can’t make a good chicken salad is pretty lame. Isn’t it?