The Art of Washing Dishes

You may remember Londonmark's recent Art of... series, which caused so much frenzied, jealous tooth-gnashing in the blogosphere that he had to cease posting before Dave and Pete sent in the evil wasps.

How fortunate that after months of painstaking archeological work, Kate and I have discovered two of the original series that have never before been published! We have shared the spoils between us, so that over at Fauxhemia today, you can read The Art of Answering Loaded Questions, and without further ado, I present for your perusal and enjoyment, The Art of Washing Dishes.

This post is dedicated to those wonderful, mysterious creatures known as men, for it is they who have lost the ancient art of washing dishes [a fact which they wrongly use to justify handing over this function to the more able members of the community].

Let us gather some background information. "Dishes," in this context, refers to the by-product of cooking or other food-preparation and consumption activity. "Washing" refers to the process of making them scrupulously, spotlessly clean, and includes procedures which some consider to be optional, such as "Drying" and "Putting Away."

In certain households, it is considered fair and democratic that if one member of the main partnership [husband and wife, or whatever] engages in food-preparation activities, then the other member should reciprocate by completing the cleaning process, or "washing up," as it is sometimes called. On closer examination, this is revealed to be hopelessly unfair.

At the risk of coming across as shockingly sexist, let's say that the partnership in question is divided into one tidy and organised type, usually, but not always, known as the "woman;" and one grubby lout usually, but not always, known as the "man." We apologise to non-traditional households and people who live on their own. But at least you have control over all washing up behaviour in your domain.

If the woman has carried out the food-preparation activity, you can be reasonably certain that on arrival in the dish-washing location [hereafter referred to as the "kitchen"], plates, pots, pans and cutlery will be neatly stacked beside the sink. All the man is required to do is to fill the bowl with the requisite amount of hot soapy water and apply brush to dish, sequentially, until the pile of dirty dishes on the left is miraculously transformed into a pile of clean dishes on the right. This, you will agree, is an extremely efficient system.

If the man has carried out the food-preparation activity, the woman will arrive in the kitchen to be faced with what, on first assessment, appears to be a scene from Natural Born Killers. Fortunately, in most cases, a second assessment will reveal the blood and gore to be bolognese sauce or similar bloke-food, slopped indiscriminately across the worktops; bits of onion peel on the floor and cheese gratings on top of the fridge are the norm in this scenario.

But most crucially, where man has cooked, we find that every single cooking utensil and container in the entire kitchen has been involved at some point in the process. He has even managed to rummage in the back of the cupboard to find some ancient garlic crusher or blender that you did not even know you possessed, and get that dirty too. There is not a single wooden spoon or sharp knife left in the drawer. The colander is clogged up with rice, and the sink contains some sort of greasy goo that you dare not put your hand in. Woman must spend time sorting, stacking, and scraping into the bin, before she can even begin to think about detergent and marigolds.

But let us return to the less-nightmarish scenario A, where woman has cooked and man is washing. He can generally be allowed to do this unsupervised.

The first hurdle he faces is filling the washing up bowl with hot soapy water. Some will insist on pouring the water straight into the sink; this is not ideal, as you will need somewhere to tip away the dregs of tea and the murky water that the missus considerately ran into the pans in order to make them easier for you to wash. You may find that the hot water takes a minute or two to warm up, in which case you could consider earning extra brownie points by running this into another container to water the plants with later.

When the water is hot, add detergent. Most dish-washing detergents these days are concentrated, so a very small amount will be sufficient. Woman will not be impressed by a lather mountain leaving stains on her silverware, glasses, or your trousers. N.B. Do not lean against the sink as you wash, as you are likely to attract small but unsightly splashes.

Use of a cloth, sponge, or plastic brush is really down to personal preference; a combination of all three is perhaps the most effective, and demonstrates your competence with a range of tools. If you have access to a bottle-brush, so much the better.

Start with the glasses, while the water is still very hot and clean. These should be rinsed under the hot tap to leave them gleaming, and ideally should be dried immediately, but no-one ever really does this.

Then tackle the remaining items, starting with the cleanest and ending with such deeply begrimed items as frying pans and roasting tins. Yes, you do have to do these as well. It is not acceptable to wash all the easy stuff and pretend to have overlooked the pans on the cooker. You may find that you have to empty the bowl and refill with more hot soapy water at some point, as there is no point in dipping plates into a lukewarm bowl of scum, however hard you scrub.

Don't forget those difficult areas between the tines of forks, the inside-bottoms of glasses, and the outsides of saucepans.

Please, man, don't expect brownie points just for doing the washing up; this is the least that woman hopes for in a relationship. She will, however, be mildly impressed if you dry everything and put it all away. In the right places. And wipe the sides down with a clean cloth. And make her a nice cup of coffee. And how about fixing that plug she's been asking you to look at for weeks, while you're at it?

Scenario B is a damn good argument for purchase of a dishwasher, and the technique adopted by most men in order to get out of cooking.