Growing up I have always been aversed to the idea of cooking. It was just something I could never see myself doing. I remember telling my mom on several occasions, every time she would pester me to learn how to cook, as a kid, that -- The only thing I want in a man is that he can either cook or, afford a cook/butler". It was that simple. And somewhere, I meant it.
However, I had always loved making desserts and salads from back when I was in Baroda and living at with parents. I remember being the official dessert maker at home every time my parent's friends were coming over. This hasn't changed even now.
I always had fancy ideas of cooking. Elaborate, fantastical, I would tell a friend or two that I am going to cook today, which would usually mean yummy sandwiches put together, along with a nice chocolate fudge or biscuit pudding for dessert. This, again, would only be once in a while.
A little while ago, I remember telling one of my closest friend one day that I am going try and make some chicken this weekend, although I had no idea how I am going to do it. I had a packet of ready-made Moghlai chicken masala and all it needed me to do is add some curd and leg pieces and heat it for it to be good to go.
I remember having a fancy idea of it being a Sunday and me cooking and asking my friend to be over for lunch, which is when he said: Cook, just cook. Not once in a while, not for someone else. But for yourself. Make it a habit. You will be healthy and you will save money.
Yes, I listened to what he had to say but never really got down to implementing it. As you remember, in my head, 'I' didn't look at myself as someone who will cook.
Then one day I wanted to have rice and kadhi and it had to be exactly how it was made at home. I wasn't home sick, I just wanted to have that. And so, I called my mom and asked her how it is made. She told me the ingredients I will need to get and how to make it.
Somehow, I had already figured it out in my head and that's exactly what mom said. I'm not trying to blow my trumpet here, but what I haven't mentioned here so far is that I love making things. I find it magical, ecstatic, almost healing .
And somehow, I have this immense confidence in myself that I can make, learn or fix anything, be it jewellery, broken furniture, knit, dance, weld, fix a car, so on and so forth, everything except cutting hair -- now that scares me and I believe I can probably never pick the skill up.
I set this blog up with the name, as you see, to document everything I have made over the years.
However, as much as I have always loved making things and watching things being made (Yep, there is a legit reason why Subway is my favorite), I never realised that cooking is about making something too, and watching it turn from separate materials, with individual flavors, into something so beautiful -- fooooood!
Coming back to the point, I don't know if it was my friend pulling me out of my fantastical world or the charm of living alone and growing up, but three days to this day back, I picked up the ingredients whilst talking to mom and went home and fixed myself a glass of whiskey & water and began cooking.
I had a friend over who is staying with me for a couple of days. She was watching a movie while I cooked. It reminded me of my dad as this is what we would do everytime he is visiting -- fix us both a drink while he cooks for the me and him.
I was at peace and I was making something. Talking to mom, getting, following her instructions; I watched curd and besan turn into Kadhi with a nice strong garlic aroma, and rice become aromatic peas pulao made in ghee, of course ( I cannot resist butter or ghee).
It was perfect. Just the way she makes it. Just like home.
This I cooked, and served for myself and my friend who was there and relished it.
I was so happy and content, almost elated. I realised I made something, something which I never saw myself doing, and it brought me happiness.
This time I cooked for myself, not for someone else to show a skill off, or as a fancy weekend plan, but for me, and it was personal, which brought me much joy -- one that no one but I would be able to take away.
I Cooked!!!
P.S. Rules for the man have changed: I now need a man who would like to clean up after I make a mess making things ;-)
P.P.S. The Moghlai chicken was never made. I will, however, make it soon.
However, I had always loved making desserts and salads from back when I was in Baroda and living at with parents. I remember being the official dessert maker at home every time my parent's friends were coming over. This hasn't changed even now.
I always had fancy ideas of cooking. Elaborate, fantastical, I would tell a friend or two that I am going to cook today, which would usually mean yummy sandwiches put together, along with a nice chocolate fudge or biscuit pudding for dessert. This, again, would only be once in a while.
A little while ago, I remember telling one of my closest friend one day that I am going try and make some chicken this weekend, although I had no idea how I am going to do it. I had a packet of ready-made Moghlai chicken masala and all it needed me to do is add some curd and leg pieces and heat it for it to be good to go.
I remember having a fancy idea of it being a Sunday and me cooking and asking my friend to be over for lunch, which is when he said: Cook, just cook. Not once in a while, not for someone else. But for yourself. Make it a habit. You will be healthy and you will save money.
Yes, I listened to what he had to say but never really got down to implementing it. As you remember, in my head, 'I' didn't look at myself as someone who will cook.
Then one day I wanted to have rice and kadhi and it had to be exactly how it was made at home. I wasn't home sick, I just wanted to have that. And so, I called my mom and asked her how it is made. She told me the ingredients I will need to get and how to make it.
Somehow, I had already figured it out in my head and that's exactly what mom said. I'm not trying to blow my trumpet here, but what I haven't mentioned here so far is that I love making things. I find it magical, ecstatic, almost healing .
And somehow, I have this immense confidence in myself that I can make, learn or fix anything, be it jewellery, broken furniture, knit, dance, weld, fix a car, so on and so forth, everything except cutting hair -- now that scares me and I believe I can probably never pick the skill up.
I set this blog up with the name, as you see, to document everything I have made over the years.
However, as much as I have always loved making things and watching things being made (Yep, there is a legit reason why Subway is my favorite), I never realised that cooking is about making something too, and watching it turn from separate materials, with individual flavors, into something so beautiful -- fooooood!
Coming back to the point, I don't know if it was my friend pulling me out of my fantastical world or the charm of living alone and growing up, but three days to this day back, I picked up the ingredients whilst talking to mom and went home and fixed myself a glass of whiskey & water and began cooking.
I had a friend over who is staying with me for a couple of days. She was watching a movie while I cooked. It reminded me of my dad as this is what we would do everytime he is visiting -- fix us both a drink while he cooks for the me and him.
I was at peace and I was making something. Talking to mom, getting, following her instructions; I watched curd and besan turn into Kadhi with a nice strong garlic aroma, and rice become aromatic peas pulao made in ghee, of course ( I cannot resist butter or ghee).
It was perfect. Just the way she makes it. Just like home.
This I cooked, and served for myself and my friend who was there and relished it.
I was so happy and content, almost elated. I realised I made something, something which I never saw myself doing, and it brought me happiness.
This time I cooked for myself, not for someone else to show a skill off, or as a fancy weekend plan, but for me, and it was personal, which brought me much joy -- one that no one but I would be able to take away.
I Cooked!!!
P.S. Rules for the man have changed: I now need a man who would like to clean up after I make a mess making things ;-)
P.P.S. The Moghlai chicken was never made. I will, however, make it soon.
