Dinner, four nights a week, and a kitchen left cleaner than I found it

What I have to offer is dinner, four nights a week, cooked properly and on time, and a kitchen left cleaner than I found it. I have spent a year trying to say that on boards like this without it sounding like an advertisement for staff, and I have not managed it yet, so I am going to say it plainly and let you decide.

Forty, east London, I do something dull with spreadsheets and I have cooked seriously since my twenties. One previous arrangement, five years, which was almost entirely this and which ended when she took a job in another country.

The appeal is not the food. It is that somebody else decides what she wants and when, and I arrange my week around her answer. I like being depended upon for one specific thing. I like being told the sauce was wrong. I have spent most of my life being told everything was lovely and it has done me no good whatsoever.

No money changes hands in either direction. I buy what I cook because I would have bought food anyway, and if that ever began to look like a transaction I would want it stopped immediately.

Not looking for anything sexual attached to this, though I am not made of stone and I would rather say now that I am open to a relationship growing if it grows. Not looking to live with anybody. And not looking for a woman who wants somebody to cater her parties, which is the third time I have been asked and the third time the answer is no.