Free The Ironwood Collection of Alpha Moves by Ian Ironwood

even need the chocolate.  I could just pantomime handing her one and asking, and she'd get the point.
     
    L ittle subtle, subtextual rituals can communicate volumes in a marriage.  I'm not trying to demean my wife, belittle her or insult her intelligence.  But I am making a point of letting her know that I am observing her behavior and such little things do not escape my notice or my memory (as she once thought they did).   And lastly I am making the point that I would much rather lovingly offer her chocolate for good behavior than, say, get into an argument over negative behavior.
     
    Yeah, I can use it to be an asshole sometimes.  But she forgives me.  Hey, I give her chocolate. What's she going to say?
 

Chapter Eight :

 
    Alpha Move: Be Iron Chef
     
    A commenter over at Badger’s illustrious Hut basically said that cooking was women's work and totally Beta .  I passionately disagree.  Here's why.
     
    While cooking has traditionally been done by women in agricultural and tribal cultures due to the division of labor, there is nothing unmasculine or inherently and irredeemably B eta about cooking.   Indeed, it can be an intensely profound exercise of male power.
     
    Mrs. Ironwood can't cook.  At all .  Her brother and her ( male ) cousin were both adept professional chefs.  She and her mother . . . well, they couldn't cook their way out of a refugee c amp with Paula Deen and a pound of lamb .  My wife once washed pasta with soap .  Two weeks after moving in with her, I excused her from all future attempts and assumed the duties exclusively.  Indeed, I wrote into our marriage vows that I will "Feed her when she is hungry".  She's utterly abysmal, due in part to her training in science, which requires exact measurements and such. ("It's says 'brown the beef' . . . how brown?   What shade of brown?  AGHH!" -- actual quote).
     
    I, on the other hand, have cooking as a part of my family culture, with a legacy cookbook and everything.  I've cooked professionally for years, and pursued it as a passionate hobby since my teens.  The skill certainly got me laid in college -- there is great Game in cooking, if you do it right.  The first time I cooked a full mean for Mrs. Ironwood, she dropped the fork, swallowed, and said "I want to have your babies."  I'm good .
     
    So when we cohabitated, I cooked.  She didn't.  When we got married, I cooked, she didn't.  I do every meal, and I don't phone it in.  I have demanded that she learn how to respect the food even if she doesn't know how to prepare it, and I've introduced her to all sorts of cuisines she likely never would have tried.  My subtextual message was pretty loud: FOOD COMES THROUGH ME!  IF YOU WANT TO EAT WELL , KEEP ME HAPPY.
     
    Even in my worst Beta years, I was always Alpha in the kitchen.  I could have a girlfriend in my kitchen and even assist, but if she started trying to take control, I'd throw a bitch out. MY DOMAIN.  And if she didn't like the food . . . well, sure sign of poor relationship material.
     
    Mrs. Ironwood loves everything I put in front of her.  While her single girlfriends were eating Ramen noodles or "dating for dinner" or hitting McD's AGAIN, she was getting incredible meals every night.  Serious DHV.
     
    So, now that I have kids, and I'm running a family in addition to a relationship, the kitchen and meal prep is an even more important extension of power and order in my household.  There's nothing B eta in mandating when and what shall be consumed by the family, what is purchased at the grocery store and how much is spent. 
     
    In a post-industrial world where cleaning and supplying has been largely outsourced or simplified, cooking (and laundry) remain the key components of housework left.  Athol has spoken at length about the Game value of doing laundry, and I defer to his expertise on the matter.  But the Married Game value of cooking is at least as high, and can be much, much higher.
     
    N ow that