Yum nom

What food would you say is your specialty?

My first dish was a baked chicken, and like all first attempts, it was a spectacular disaster. It was dry and chewy, reducing me to a pile of uncontrolled tear-inducing giggles. The husband had just walked in; we were newly married, and I had reached home in time to try a recipe for the first time in a long time. The inspiration for the recipe was from one of the South-Asian cooking in 30 minutes or less cookbooks I had picked up at the last book exhibition we had been to. We had argued, and he had given in to my urge to pick up a cookbook; I had argued and won and picked the cookbook that specified 30 minutes or less cooking. It did not matter to me that South Asian was not South Indian, which is what I was familiar with. Just about. You see, I came /come from a large-ish family. And everyone likes to cook. So, I became the official taster and, at times, the entertainer. The husband woo-ed (is that a word even!) me with his culinary prowess, which he dedicates to a South Indian cookbook, still sitting on the refrigerator in my house. And I was ok, with him cooking, until it was the turn to be adventurous, and then the Lemon Rasam fiasco hit us. The spice levels in that recipe hit us hard, and to give credit, we tried for a week to attempt to eat it and eventually, we gave up, and poured it all down the drain. That was an instant pest control recipe. Unfortunately, we left that house soon after. And we left cooking to the experts. We used to visit Mum’s house and shamelessly gorge on food there and if possible even pack doggy bags that would keep us afloat for a few days. At other times, we used to invite Amma over to stay for a couple of weeks and have her prepare boxes for us as well. 

A couple of months later, a distant relative of my oldest sibling dropped into the city. They had missed the wedding and wanted to meet up to congratulate us. We were both working at that time and used to only return around 7 pm. So, I invited them over and also told Mum and Dad that they should also come home to dinner with them. We were long past the LR -disaster and had gotten into the habit of preparing a few South Indian dishes at home. The absolute basics – like some yellow dal, rice, and veggies like potato and beans. Usually, both of us came home early and worked together to prepare the meal. But, that day, I came home an hour earlier and prepped and prepared these. Except that I had made enough for 4 or 5 people, but I had invited 7. I had not calculated the quantities. Dad had come earlier and walked into the kitchen to find that I would run short of food. So, he quietly walked to the restaurant next door and picked a few dishes and some Indian flat bread that could work with the dishes I had made. Attempt 2 -cooking large-ish quantities was a near-miss disaster. 

Eventually, we moved home. I hired a maid, and after a few months, I convinced her to start cooking for us. The poor lady tried her best to make dishes that would appeal to me, but most often, it was a miss. The husband was happy with the meals; I hardly enjoyed them because they did not taste the way Mum and Dad cooked. I invited Dad over for a week, and he taught her to cook and make tea and coffee the way I would enjoy it- and this lady worked with me for the next few years as a maid/cook. She was so good that I forgot how to make tea for myself, a learning in itself when we relocated to a different state. At this time, I had a couple of kids, and my culinary skills had grown from the basics to a little extra. I could make a nice chicken curry, I’ve tried cooking mutton and fish and even tried a Lasagna. I cook with my nose. If it smells good. I am confident it tastes good. But I am a lazy cook. I like one-pot recipes. And I keep converting all recipes into a one-pot recipe. So, the chicken curry also ended up being a one-pot recipe, more by accident than by choice on that event, but it worked, and I haven’t stopped making it. 

I’ve since seen many an episode of MasterChef and, of course, drooling over the dishes they’ve toiled over and, in some instances, even resonated with the comments the chefs received. But every episode of MasterChef or Chopped or Cupcake Wars makes me realize how easy I have it. I’m grateful for full plates and flavors that burst in your mouth and appetites that match the effort, and it was with this gratitude that I started to bake. Cakes are delicious, so much so that they never leave your body. So, you have to be very careful when you bake, especially if you also nurture a sweet tooth.

We had moved to a region where access to fresh-baked goods was limited. I refused to visit a mall every time I wanted to eat cake, and I did not want to fly back home to pick up a piece of plum cake. Family visits were few, but every time they visited, I would try out a new recipe, and based on their feedback, I would either make a note of a recipe or just drop it off the skill list. It’s been a few years, and I now have the most amazing recipes and shortlists of the one-pot wonders for cakes. But before getting into the shortlist, the cakes had to go through the icing test. And icing was the only thing I took a few classes on. Buttercream and Fondant – they are messy, back-breaking, and time-consuming but are real game changers when it comes to cakes. I loved icing cakes and still love icing, but I have stopped because I realized that I am wasting more than I am using. 

I don’t have a food that is my specialty, but more the way of cooking is my specialty. And every dish I make is something I enjoy eating myself. It is a lazy person’s cooking repertoire. It’s typically got the usual ingredients: Onion, Tomato, Chilly Ginger, Garlic, and dry spices, and depending on what I want the dish to taste like, maybe the order of things going in may change. This is the gravy, and I just add the protein, vegetable, or Carb to this. Usually, all of these go into the same pot. Occasionally, I may put the effort to bring another pan into the mix, but those days are super rare. Similarly, baking for me involves one container to beat the ingredients and one to bake them in. I’m confident I may never win a MasterChef with my skills, but as the family seems to like what I make the way I make it, I’m not going to mess with perfection.