I would’ve titled this post “the joy of cooking”; had it not been for the fact that the chief chef was on a training program last week, and I was left to handle the kitchen all by myself. You get the sad picture don’t you?
For the record, I can cook almost anything you name – from the dunked in oil Gobi Manchurian, the pasta , spicy chilli paneer, simple south Indian food, and I can also make yum Vengaya Sambar, and deep fried kathrika curry. I learnt all this and more during the 5 months I was loafing around at home with little or nothing to do. Cooking and Power Yoga have been the only constants, and they balanced each other’s effect. A real case of Newton’s third law – every reaction has an equal and opposite reaction.
I must mention one thing at this juncture; all of you must bear in mind that these experiments in the kitchen were performed under expert guidance, and I’ve never opened the batting. What happens when an inexperienced candidate is at the helm of affairs forms the rest of the post!
Time: 5.30AM, I hit the snooze button a couple of time before I managed to pull myself out my blanket. Realising that it is only 6 so I decided to catch some more sleep, it was too early to wake up. I blink, and suddenly my mobile screams – it is 7.15AM. I swore at everybody else around me, cursed the air-con for being so comfy early in the morning, curse the curtains for making the room look so dark making me fake believe that it was still early to wake up.
I ambled my way out, brushed my teeth, lit the lamp in the puja room, passed off a scrawny looking star for a kolam, and cut open a milk packet to make some coffee. This was just the beginning of the ordeal. Next came the toughest part of all – cooking. I did not have vegetables cut the previous night, and so the onion chopping started, two different cups of rice were washed soaked and put into different pressure cookers. The peas and corn from the fridge were summoned; they were ready to go into the rice cooker to become yummy peas and corn pulao. And while all this was happening; the milk decided to boil over.
I had double work to do now; cook and clean the spilt milk. The clock was screaming 8.00AM now; I hurriedly put everything into cooker, placed the whistle on the nozzle, and performed my impeccable Mr. Bean Act.
Thankfully, I wasn’t late for work on my very first day.
These acts of goof ups and clumsiness continued over the week until my chief chef decided to come to my rescue on Thursday night. If not for her, the kitchen would’ve happily turned into a chaotic battle field.
This is called – Murphy’s Law. When something has to go wrong; it WILL go wrong.
You can make butter cookies, chocolate cake and vathakozhambu. But you fail miserably when you HAVE to perform!