Max Mariola, there are certainly women in the kitchen. And he's the only one who didn't notice

How boring. How boring to always hear the same things, useless, old and dull. How boring to listen to three men who, giggling and nudging each other, talk about the impossibility of a woman working in the kitchen. “It's very hard work,” he says Max Mariola interviewed by The mosquitothe radio program of Radio 24. «Can you imagine a mother who stays away from her daughter or newborn son for 12, 14 hours?», continues the chef-influencer, who recently hit the headlines for his proposal of haute sartorial cuisine, which includes a carbonara for 30 euros but which says little about the raw materials and a lot about the show that is brought to the table together with the dish.

Backed by a always obstinately politically incorrect Cruciani (how boring, we were saying), who also began by saying that he thought “but who is that idiot who prices carbonara for 30 euros?”, Mariola insists on the fact that women have difficulty doing this job, and in fact in her kitchen they are all, preferably, men. Not because he selected them like this, mind you, but because, she reiterates, it's hard work.

All this, not before having told us and made us listen (how boring) in detail the erotic performance of his carbonarathe one that, with the show that is done at the guests' table, justifies the famous price of 30 euros per dish. Cooking is sex, he says. It is an erotic act, and full of double meanings whispered into the ears of the guests. Sorry, some diners. Eh eh eh. And indeed David Parenzo says he wouldn't go there, to a pig chef who talks dirty things to his wifeand it is useless to point out to him that we assume that his wife, whatever her opinion, is perfectly capable of deciding on her own whether to let Max Mariola say dirty things to her or not, without him feeling obliged to defend his (obviously, not hers) honor by preventing his woman from putting him in front of the public embarrassment of listening to obscenities from another man.

How boring, we said. And how naive, to continue to fall with both feet into the provocations of The mosquito, which also provide us with useful elements to decide where to go (or not go) the next time we want a carbonara. And it is also possible, dear Max Mariola, that we choose a kitchen where there is a woman behind the stove, rather than a man. Or maybe a gay, since they exist and work, too if she claims she doesn't know them or hang out with them (giggle and very masculine elbow bumps).

If the sexy carbonara told by Max Mariola takes us back to the atmosphere of the cinepanettoni of the 1980s, the discussions on women in the kitchen are no less important. Because, whether Mariola likes it or not (we suspect not, but we can't know for sure), the world has moved on. There are women in the kitchen, they are good, they often make the difference (and not just in culinary terms). They have children and work anyway, think about it. Go and tell someone about it Karime Lopezor to one Ana Ros, how difficult it is for a woman to succeed in working in the kitchen. Which doesn't mean it's easy, that's clear. Difficult is difficult, but if we keep repeating it jostling among males and taking it as a fact it can only be a self-fulfilling prophecy, with all due respect to how many have succeeded and how much we are trying to change the world of catering, reducing the timetables and dividing shifts, for the well-being of the women and men who work there.

Go and tell someone Antonia Klugmanor to one Viviana Varese, how hard it is to show up at the customers' table every day and put on the show of the erotic pasta that craves bacon and a hot egg. So hard that it is worth even more than 30 euros. And actually yes, at least on this we feel we agree with Mariola: she must be really tough, as a chef, to end up at the table whispering dirty things to the macaroni.