I learned to cook when my mother discovered feminism and went on strike in the '70's. She's still on strike. (I recently visited her for a few days and when I went to turn on the oven, smoke started pouring out as the various items she was storing in there started to catch...) The pity is that she was very good at it, as was my father, so it wasn't like anybody ever forced her to cook.

I became quite good at it by necessity: eating out wasn't an option (my mother was/is also very frugal: she can still pinch a penny to the point a booger comes outta Abe's nose...) after their divorce.

I dated a Japanese women in college who liked to cook with me. Some of the best meals were those we put together, together. I wanted to marry her, but her family wasn't going to let her marry someone who was not Japanese.

I ended up marrying a woman who couldn't cook and I did most of the cooking. I learned to shop tactically, didn't use a lot of salt, experimented with vegetables, fell in love with olive oil, and refused to own a microwave, so our two boys grew up with a relatively healthy diet, unlike the heavily processed microwaveable foodstuffs I had to contend with in the '80's and 90's. Easier is rarely better.

Now that we're separated and our two boys are older and on their own, I eat out quite a lot. Part of it is loneliness but also because covid discouraged the dinner parties I loved to host, and I wanted to make an effort to support the restaurants I enjoy through this tough time.

I haven't dated because I don't know if the separation is going to stick, but if I do, I'll have to keep such issues in mind.