Culinary adventures
One thing I was always afraid of was cooking. Like Murphy's Law, it finally came for me. Recently, I moved out of the hostel to a flat to live with my friends. We had to prepare our dinner every day. As I had not many options left, I started learning the culinary skills. Mohan, my friend was my Guru. When it comes to cooking, he is a real tough master. He is very particular starting from the cleanliness of the utensil to the way a lid is to be placed on top of the vessel.
As an apprentice, I started off with vegetable chopping under the constant vigilance of Mohan. I wept like a child while chopping onions. My hands smelled like hell after peeling garlic. My fingers were burning after slicing chilly. Still, I persisted. I was determined to learn the art of cooking. That was not the only factor, which forced me to continue. Mohan had told me if I don't cook, I wouldn’t eat.
As days went by, Mohan started testing my skills. One evening, I came home alone and had to start preparing that night's dinner. By that time, I had learned to wash rice and cook it in a pressure cooker. So that day, I started off with rice. The next task on the list was to make a dish with cabbage. I started the chopping and it took almost an hour to finish a 300g cabbage. I put that into the vessel and started stirring it continuously after adding the condiments mentioned by Mohan. Because of my frantic stirring for saving the cabbage from getting burnt in the bottom of the vessel and my incessant checking of taste, in the end, I could find only half of what I had initially put in the vessel. My next job was to prepare Kadi (a dish made of curd). I diluted the curd and poured it into the vessel and kept it on the stove. After putting the ingredients recommended by Mohan, suddenly an idea struck me. Why don't I put some tomatoes (my favorite vegetable) to improve the taste and that way get some pats on my back from Mohan? I did that and after 2-3 minutes, I noticed some rubber-like things floating on the vessel. I tried hard to remember which condiment/vegetable was that. Suddenly it flashed in my mind that I was supposed to heat the curd only lukewarm and in the process of improving the taste I just boiled the curd. That night, Mohan didn't even bother to taste the dish. It went directly to the sink.
A couple of days later, again I had to cook alone. Luckily that day also, there was cabbage. With the confidence acquired from last time's cabbage preparation, I started chopping the cabbage. After half an hour, I hadn't finished 1/8th of the cabbage. I thought I was chopping them smaller than required. So I increased the size of choppings. Finally, after 1 1/2 hours, I finished the chopping. I put the whole thing into the vessel. But it was more than the vessel could hold. After remembering my stirring and tasting last time, I thought, I would cook the whole cabbage but in two sessions. Somehow I finished the first session and thought that rest will be kept for the next day. After dinner, I found that except me, nobody had touched the cabbage. Later Mohan called me privately and told me that I would rather chop grass for cattle than cabbage. Because of the large size of the cabbage, it didn't get cooked properly and hence was not in a palatable state. Not to embarrass me further, the next day, Mohan himself tried cooking the rest of the choppings. But the results were more or less the same because of the size of the choppings. With a hurt ego and a dampened spirit, I went to bed.
These days, my friends comment that I have improved a lot in chopping vegetables. I don't know whether they are flattering me or pulling my legs. But it somehow helps me to regain my confidence. The most important thing I realized from my cooking lessons is the love mothers have for the family. It's only out of pure love for their family; they undertake the chore of cooking. The happiness of their family members is the only reward for their hard work. I am not saying that fathers (read men) don't cook. But in most houses, ladies take it as their duty and do it. After my stint with cooking, now I have even more respect and love for my mother. It helped me to appreciate her dedication and selfless love to the family.
As an apprentice, I started off with vegetable chopping under the constant vigilance of Mohan. I wept like a child while chopping onions. My hands smelled like hell after peeling garlic. My fingers were burning after slicing chilly. Still, I persisted. I was determined to learn the art of cooking. That was not the only factor, which forced me to continue. Mohan had told me if I don't cook, I wouldn’t eat.
As days went by, Mohan started testing my skills. One evening, I came home alone and had to start preparing that night's dinner. By that time, I had learned to wash rice and cook it in a pressure cooker. So that day, I started off with rice. The next task on the list was to make a dish with cabbage. I started the chopping and it took almost an hour to finish a 300g cabbage. I put that into the vessel and started stirring it continuously after adding the condiments mentioned by Mohan. Because of my frantic stirring for saving the cabbage from getting burnt in the bottom of the vessel and my incessant checking of taste, in the end, I could find only half of what I had initially put in the vessel. My next job was to prepare Kadi (a dish made of curd). I diluted the curd and poured it into the vessel and kept it on the stove. After putting the ingredients recommended by Mohan, suddenly an idea struck me. Why don't I put some tomatoes (my favorite vegetable) to improve the taste and that way get some pats on my back from Mohan? I did that and after 2-3 minutes, I noticed some rubber-like things floating on the vessel. I tried hard to remember which condiment/vegetable was that. Suddenly it flashed in my mind that I was supposed to heat the curd only lukewarm and in the process of improving the taste I just boiled the curd. That night, Mohan didn't even bother to taste the dish. It went directly to the sink.
A couple of days later, again I had to cook alone. Luckily that day also, there was cabbage. With the confidence acquired from last time's cabbage preparation, I started chopping the cabbage. After half an hour, I hadn't finished 1/8th of the cabbage. I thought I was chopping them smaller than required. So I increased the size of choppings. Finally, after 1 1/2 hours, I finished the chopping. I put the whole thing into the vessel. But it was more than the vessel could hold. After remembering my stirring and tasting last time, I thought, I would cook the whole cabbage but in two sessions. Somehow I finished the first session and thought that rest will be kept for the next day. After dinner, I found that except me, nobody had touched the cabbage. Later Mohan called me privately and told me that I would rather chop grass for cattle than cabbage. Because of the large size of the cabbage, it didn't get cooked properly and hence was not in a palatable state. Not to embarrass me further, the next day, Mohan himself tried cooking the rest of the choppings. But the results were more or less the same because of the size of the choppings. With a hurt ego and a dampened spirit, I went to bed.
These days, my friends comment that I have improved a lot in chopping vegetables. I don't know whether they are flattering me or pulling my legs. But it somehow helps me to regain my confidence. The most important thing I realized from my cooking lessons is the love mothers have for the family. It's only out of pure love for their family; they undertake the chore of cooking. The happiness of their family members is the only reward for their hard work. I am not saying that fathers (read men) don't cook. But in most houses, ladies take it as their duty and do it. After my stint with cooking, now I have even more respect and love for my mother. It helped me to appreciate her dedication and selfless love to the family.
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