I love to cook. I love to cook when I feel like it. Like a hobby. And when i do that it usually comes out great. But cooking as a necessity never happened. Until now. The past two months i was lazing away at home waiting for my final year results to come and my sis demanded that, since i was utterly jobless and practically useless, I cook for her when she returned from school. Even then it wasn’t a necessity. I had my freedom. I cooked and named my dishes. All went well. Until....
My mom got sick and was taken to hospital last Sunday. Her sickness was off in a few hours though they asked her to get admitted in order to do their usual “tests”. Mommy was no game for them and demanded a complete check up. It was easy for her but dad had a tough time managing home and looking after her as well. Although usually I’m a pain in the neck at times like these I decided to help around a bit. So on day 1 I made a quick Chinese with soy chunks (thanks to the inventor of sauces) for dinner.
On day two I was lazing around as usual when dad said. Ur paneer is in the freezer.oh.i had asked him to buy paneer proclaiming I want to make matar paneer but since it was a bit trouble (my first time) I had saved it for later. I have boiled matar for you. Make it for dinner. Oh my god. I had i hour to make it and the worst part was..Milk was one of the ingredients!.
Milk. It’s a nightmare as far as I was concerned .I had tried to make something with milk and the moment i poured in the whole thing coagulated. And mom had given me a piece of her mind then. If it happens again. Disaster. I’ll probably be banished from the kitchen forever. U might think I’m making it sound big, but my parents don’t waste a curry leave. Get it?
I took out my cooking bible. My “greater works” diary and dug out the recipe and started working praying nothing goes wrong. I flinched when I poured in the milk half expecting it to disintegrate into white chunks like floating ice bergs. It didn’t. Well it didn’t seem to be milky anymore. Something happened to it. But nothing bad. After simmering it for a while i was done and asked dad for a verdict. He said ok and a lot of suggestions (daddy loves cooking and considered himself unbeatable at that. So every dish I made lacked an ingredient-his ‘touch’). But the final verdict was from my dear dado. She loved it. She couldn’t keep her hands away from it. Which meant..yipeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
