A man who cooks is romantically and sexually appealing because a) he is able to complete an extremely basic human task that people have been doing for millennia, and b) maybe he can cook me something that tastes good, which is a very pleasurable experience. Food is great! I love eating it, I love cooking it, yum yum, and it’s very nice to share that interest with someone that I want to smooch. Plus there’s the whole “come over to my apartment for dinner, wink wink” thing. A great romantic situation all around.

There is a certain type of man-who-cooks, however, that tends to repel many a woman with his hobby. Let’s call him the Sous Vide Bro, as he either a) is thinking about buying a sous vide machine, which uses technology to cook a piece of food very gently at a precise temperature and was all the rage five years ago, or b) owns one already. Maybe the sous vide machine is actually a home brew kit he's used once, or a Smoke Gun, or a Searzall. It's something expensive and objectively superfluous.

Whatever the gadget is, he talks about it a lot, and expects anyone listening to be impressed. He does not recognize that a potential mate is more likely to be charmed by someone who can casually fry a decent egg in the morning than by someone who needs a pat on the head for using a time-consuming, expensive technological tool whose virtues are breathlessly extolled by famous male chefs. Historically, I’ve been more turned on by the guy with the bottle of homemade salad dressing in his fridge than the guy with an affinity for at-home ‘vide-ing.

Take a man I went on one date with two years ago: Over drinks, we did all the bullshitty “getting to know you stuff” that you do when you’re deciding whether you want to see someone else naked. (“So, do you….have a Netflix account?” “Oh, you like IPAs too?”) At one point, the topic turned to food. Sidled up next to me at a tiny dark bar in Brooklyn, he used a large number of emphatic words to describe the time he sous vide-d an entire side of salmon, at some large expensive home in the mountains of California, for his own 30th birthday party. The face he made after relaying that story did a bad job of hiding how excited he was to receive praise. I quickly transferred him from the “completely fine but maybe not for me” column in my brain to the “SOUS VIDE BRO” column in my brain. From this, we would never recover.

If you are a dude, is it okay for you to own and use a sous vide machine? Yes, of course! I hear they are best used for perfectly soft-cooked eggs, the sort that jiggle hopefully in a bowl of ramen then gently splooge into the broth when opened. It’s very appealing to think that you could reproduce that splooginess at home. Or maybe you’re jonesing for a piece of meat so evenly cooked it would make even the most discerning Iron Chef judge weep. Maybe you “love technology” and want to bring more of it into your kitchen. Maybe you, like a smart person I know, want to try sous vide-ing Italian deli sandwiches to give them that day-old flavor. If the sous vide machine sparks joy in your heart, buddy, I want you to own it.

But as with most things—veganism, crossfit, polyamory, meditation, craft beer drinking—sous vide ownership is totally fine in a vacuum and only becomes obnoxious when performed and publicized. Are you bragging about your sous vide to people you want to have sex with, and hoping that said brag will incentivize them to instantly become naked? Are you beginning to believe that owning a sous vide machine has made you markedly cooler than you were before? Do you think it might make you better than the commoners who cook their steak in cast iron? This is where you have begun to stray from righteousness. This is where you become a Sous Vide Bro.

If you think you may be a Sous Vide Bro, don’t despair! You don’t need to throw out your expensive cooking device. You just need to chill out about it when you’re out in public. And maybe learn how to cook an egg. Your date will love that.

Watch Now:

How to Cook a Perfect Steak