When will my nutritionally knowledgeable, yet flavor-loving personal chef materialize?

The title is pretty much the beginning and end of the content of this post. Just a bit of whining, spoken in true ‘youngest-childese’.  Men have it so good.  They get married and never again have to replace hunger with lame, poorly-planned, culinary underachievements. Well, I guess it depends on who they marry, but often this is true.  And I know that not all marriages stick the woman with the cooking, but I'm complaining, work with me here.  Who wants to make me dinner? (And make it tasty and calorically irreproachable.)