By nature I am a calm and gentle person (thats what I think, am sure lots of my friends will disagree). Inspite of all this calmness I have an uncanny knack of being uncoordinated when it is anything to do with chores and mainly in the kitchen.
My hubby will have many examples of these situations. Mainly when I am pouring sugar, lentils or semolina into airtight containers and manage to spill half of it on the kitchen platform. I have tried and tried but have never managed to perfect the art. I always secretly envy the people who can do this without spilling a bit.
Armed with such meagre qualifications, jumping into the 'art of cooking' was like jumping from a airplane without a parachute. All those who have read 'My experiments with cooking-1' would already know about how I approach it, with a bit of weariness and a lot of sarcasm.
My 2nd foray was when my mum was away in Bangalore. I am sure whenever my pater recalls that incident a shiver would definitely run down his spine. Even now when that incident is dissected by family members he just gives me a very fatherly loving smile.
The day was 'Chaturthi' and just like many Marathis he fasts and only eat fruits and 'Sabudana Khichdi'. The task of making the 'Khichdi' fell into my lap since I have never seen my father cook ever in his life (I think my aversion to cooking came from his side of the family). The disaster with the chapati incidence was still fresh in my mind but I got all the instructions from mater on the telephone. Also her cookery book 'Ruchira' was handy.
We flipped open to the page and as per the recipe needed to soak the 'Sabudana' for 4 hours but a minimum of 2 hours will also do. In the hurry to get over the task both of us soaked it in water and decided that 30 mins were more than enough. My father was a bit concerned saying let us check up with Mater, I allayed his doubts by being confident of the time and said these cookery books are useless.
After the 30 mins were over I made the khichadi and even decorated it with Coriander to make it look delish and presented it to 'Baba'(my father). The first morsel into my mouth and I knew all my overconfidence had got a serious beating. The 'Sabudana' was as unsoaked and hard as small pebbles. Without uttering a single complaint my dad finished what was on his plate.
My Dad has a extremely strong constitution a stubborn digestive system. I with my atrocious dish managed to shake his digestive system and he was running to the loo after every few minutes. I had avoided that horror item and thus avoided creating any havoc in my tummy.
When my mother came to know of it, I proudly took the credit of the situation. My sisters had a good laugh and vowed never to try my cooking when it was unsupervised.
All in all it turned out fine. My dad was fine the next day and I now try to follow the guidelines given in the cookbooks albeit never to a T.
Disclaimer: My husband has been having my handcooked food for the past 9 years and has still managed to survive. He even relishes a few dishes I make....
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