I like to listen to dire straits when I cook. While eating, my wife will ask for 'dinner music.' That means I have to turn down the KISS, Stones or Tommy Bolin and cue up some mid-period Miles Davis or maybe some Chess blues. Whatever I can get away with.
At any rate, music goes great with food. And when I'm out for a big steak at an old school place with high-backed booths and dim lighting, all I want to hear is Rat Pack. Period.