Three mistakes of my cooking!

Let me warn you guys this is not about technical mistakes of cooking. I am still in the learning phase. If you have read my previous blog, you will know what kind of a cook I am. With my hard work and dedication I will be like Gordon Ramsey one day. If you know what I mean 😉

I want to share three moments in my life where I made a blunder in the kitchen. At that moment of course I wanted to run out of the planet but I find it hilarious now.

My perfect tea

So one day I was instructed by my mom to make tea. I was in the midst of doing something, which I stopped midday to head to the kitchen. I started to boil water. Let me inform you guys, I have made tea many times previously. I always have this confusion as to what is the perfect ratio of ingredients that makes a perfect tea. I always hope I will make the perfect tea one day. I realize I have drifted away from the incident. My thoughts usually wander from one to the other and that’s exactly what happened that day. While the water was boiling, I mindlessly took out the container of tea from the shelf. I added two teaspoons of tea to the water. Something just struck me and I was forced to concentrate on the tea boiling in the water. I almost shrieked, it was not tea but mustard seeds. Without my mom knowing, I drained the water down in the sink. Now you will think, mustard and tea are quite different from each other. How can you make a mistake with that! I know it’s so silly of me.

 

Milky way

My mindless behavior shows up more than once in the kitchen. In summer days my mom heats up food to prevent spoilage. One such hot day she called out to me from her room and instructed me to boil milk. I was in the moment of enjoying a funny video forwarded to me by a friend. I went to kitchen and placed the utensil which had the milk on the gas stove.  I dig my hands in the snacks container for something to eat. With my mouth full of chips, I removed the lid of the milk container. To my utter shock, it was not milk but Dosa batter (Indian pancake). It was my mistake I just assumed that it is milk by the steel container as it’s the one which my mom usually uses for storing milk. The batter was on heat for more than 30 seconds by the time I took it out. I was so scared and I was sure if my mom would know about it she would kill me. But I had to tell her. She was furious and was yelling at me. From her expressions I thought she was crying in anger and saying “Stupid girl! What will I make for breakfast tomorrow, you have spoiled it”.

 

Post marriage cooking

I got married to the love of my life six months back. I am in a blissful period and I wish it continues forever. By now you would agree, I am never confident of my cooking skills. In India, cooking skills are extremely important for a married woman. It’s one of the important factor on which you will be judged all the time by relatives / acquaintances you will meet probably once a year.

One fine Sunday afternoon, I and my Mom-in-law were cooking chicken. Basically, she was cooking and I was helping her out. And boy since my earlier days, I have improved a lot in the kitchen. I enjoy the process and am quite interested in cooking delicacies unlike earlier. And when I get a compliment, I feel like on top of the moon. Ultimately you need validation from others to feel good about your cooking. But I am not a pro yet.

We were preparing the spices beforehand to cook the chicken. In India, no curry is complete without onions. We were frying onions in hot oil and my mother in law (my mom is saved now from my antics) entrusted me the task of frying onions till its golden brown until she comes back. I was diligently following her instructions and was quite nervous as I didn’t want to burn it out with my carelessness. I didn’t want spoil my impression among the new members. I was stirring the onions with a sufficient gap allowing it to cook. After some time, I realized the onions are beginning to burn with the lack of sufficient quantity of oil. Without wasting a moment I took the oil dispenser, turned it upside down and squeezed it on top of the onions. It took some pressure for the oil to be poured on to the pan. The moment it was on the onions, I got a shock of my life. Damn! It not oil it’s a ‘lemon based dish-washing liquid gel’. I blanked out for a moment. I imagined my mother in law screaming and throwing me out of the house for feeding them dish-washing gel.  I sprung and took the section of onions dipped in that gel with a spoon and threw it in the dustbin. As if nothing ever happened, I continued frying the rest of the onions. I haven’t told this anyone in my house yet, not even my husband. Don’t blame me completely. The oil dispenser bottle in my house is similar to the dishwasher gel container. The oil and the lemon gel are of the same color. Moreover who keeps a dishwasher besides a gas stove? It’s meant to be kept in the sink. My mother in law also has a part to play in this mistake.

 

Fine, I accept these mistakes are a result of my absent mindedness or maybe being nervous of making a mistake. I am still going to try my stint in the kitchen. I will not quit.

Something’s cooking in my Mind!

When I was a kid, I remember my relatives and acquaintances telling my parents to teach me cooking at a early age to save themselves from a situation wherein my future husband and his family would blame them for marrying off their ‘good-for-nothing’ ‘can’t-cook’ daughter into their family. Since that day I hated cooking rather I hated the idea that I have to learn to cook for making somebody else’s life better. My hatred for cooking grew when I was compared with other girls who knew cooking and I was made to feel how ideal and superior they are than me. At some point I even felt I can never cook.

My mother never ever forced this kind of stuff on me because I was born premature (few weeks) and used to fall sick frequently as a kid. She considered my health as a priority and everything else was secondary to her. There is one more reason I feel, I am her only child. All these contributed to me not trying my hand at cooking until some time before.

Sometimes back my Mother fell sick and was advised complete bed rest for few weeks. So the responsibility of the household chores came on me with my Dad assisting me. My Mother refused help from some of our well wishers explaining that her daughter will manage. Thats how it all started. And now I feel I can manage to make myself a meal (a eatable one not a delicious one). I am still learning the art of cooking. However, there is a change of heart within me. Cooking is making me feel independent and I always wanted to be one. I no more hate Cooking.

Whether I master the art of cooking or not, one thing is sure I will tell my kid (no matter whatever be the gender) to learn cooking for themselves not for somebody else and would throw plates and glasses at my future husband if he says “Tumhare family ne tumhe Itna bhi nahi sikhaya” (pun intended).

Last Sunday I can proudly say I made myself a Pulao, Chicken Fry and Raitha. Kya Baat!! And the next day as I had digestive problems with my stomach and having nothing else to do I decided to write this stuff.