I think, therefore I write

Tag: Kitchen

Kitchen Conversations

Image Source: listdose.com

Dear saucepan,
You are the best, you help me the most
Be it poha or upma or curry, you finish it even in a hurry
Not one day passes without you on fire, I salute you for that sire
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you gimme a signal when curry’s done, so that I don’t have to peek every 5 mins?”

Dear spatula,
You help me poke, while the other things soak
When I spin you fast, You spill vast
I know it’s partly my fault, but you know I can’t halt
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you cut down the spilling a little?”

Dear chotu pressure cooker,
As mom’s gift you came, you cook quite the same
I thank you for that, for each whistle you let off your hat
You let me do other dishes, while your top hisses
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you give a different signal when whatever inside you is rightly done?”

Dear motu pressure cooker,
Not for daily use I wish, but rice you cook is the main dish
You are too huge to lift, there is no other vessel to which I can shift
But when it’s the time for guests, you are nothing but the best
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you become less heavier by dieting or something?”

Dear casserole or to use your nickname hot-pack,
You hold a variety of dishes for me, preserving them as they should be
Keeping them piping hot, the dishes remaining so soft
Do try to taste what’s inside, keeping that I’m not a great cook aside
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you correct the salt, chilli levels if they are a tad wrong?”

Dear blender,
It’s only your small jar I use, but in that all ingredients fuse
We are only two, we don’t need anything bigger too
Pristine and white, you are a pretty sight,
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you develop two hands and clean yourself?”

Dear wet grinder,
I come to you once a week, but you loyally do what I seek
You take a lot of time, taking an hour to chime
Even though it’s a weekend, I need some leisure time to spend
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you finish the grinding a little faster?”

Dear scrubber,
You are a favorite pet, you wipe the cooking stage wet
You know I am a messy cook, you take me off that hook
You become dirtier by day, though I wash you everyday
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you fly like Aladdin’s magic carpet and clean as I spill?”

Dear Dosa griddle,
With much hope I poured batter on you, but you didn’t like it being new
You rebelled on washing, and went on dosa mashing
I had to exchange you with my expert mom, heard that with her you kept mum
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you become more mature so that I can take you as mine?”

To all the other vessels, spatulas, ladles, spoons and everyone else,
Don’t be mad for the generic mention, you do cut out a lot of my tension
You get fried and frozen, but in the sink definitely don’t lessen,
Cool your bottoms in the sink, but let me clean you in a wink,,
Sorry to ask you for more, but just so that I don’t go sore
“Can you clean yourselves and jump into the drying tub after cooling your bottoms a bit?”

I know the post has gotten too long. I started it as something else but this came out and I was enjoying it so much that it kept coming. There is so much more but to do justice to your patience I stop here.

Until later 🙂

P.S: I am writing so much about cooking and household stuff after marriage. Guess I had more of mom in me than I thought, hope that I make as much as a good home maker as she is.

The edibly inedible

Today’s the first day I ever cooked with absolutely no supervision, with none to ask the ways, the measurements or whatsoever silly doubts I had.  There have been times when I have cooked with my friend(s), but we had each other to back on and it was always the maggi-scrambled eggs-tadkawaali curd rice-mash potato version which can hardly be called cooking. Today’s the first solo. For the first time in my life, I got what my mom meant by “You can’t learn cooking by writing down recipes and having theoretical knowledge, only practice will teach you.” I used to shrug it off saying that I will cook when it’s necessary and that I will write all her recipes down and follow it to the word. What can go wrong when I follow everything  as she says? How naïve was I!

I opted for the simplest of dishes for the first day – rava upma for breakfast and rice, sambar and a beans curry for lunch. I started out at 6.30 and when the clock struck 7.30, I was staring at 3 dishes with a pout on my face. The upma was glaring at me dryly for not adding enough oil, while the beans curry was having a sour look for adding a bit too much salt and the sambar was laughing at me since I didn’t know if it was spicier than I intended or not. I wouldn’t say they were inedible but for a foodie like me, they seemed like the end of the world.

Well, hubby dearest was the only tester available and I called him to check if it was at least agreeable to his stomach if not for his taste buds. Being a very accommodating person when it comes to food, he granted a pass to everything (he gives a pass to any home-made food as long as they are not spicy) while my taste buds gave everything a fail. Cooking is no joke without practice, fellas! Not at all! I can’t express how much I miss mom and her expert cooking. What she does in the kitchen is pure magic and here I am, like a muggle.

Kitchen galaata :)

Today,my aunt had some work and I thought I will end up in the kitchen.Fortunately, she made all the vegetable dishes and my job was only to cook the rice, which was quite easy.After that, I fought with all the utensils and made them shine. Satisfied with myself, I started watching TV(????? ???? ?????? ??? ???????? ??? ???????????). Then tonight,my aunt called me and gave me a bowl of wheat flour and asked me to knead it.Then began my battle with the flour.However hard I try, I could not get it off my hands(??????? ??????).Somehow i kneaded it into dough and triumphed over it.Then came the problem of making the dough into round shapes for cooking. I tried to do it uniformly and ended up with amoeba shaped ones.??????????????? ??? ????? ?????? ??.At last I opted for the easiest job-transferring the onions from the bag to its respective basket.I opened the cupboard where the basket was kept and someone was waiting to greet me.Yeah,A lizard(Small one.though) and I was in no mood to say hello to it. I took up a broomstick and started chasing it.Omitting the description of the struggle,I come to the point.The lizard won the battle:( ????????? ??? ?????? ???????? ??, ????? ??!