Complaints to the Cook…can be hazardous to your health!

My kitchen adventures! This shouldn't be a blogpost, it should actually be a book in itself. But before I begin, I need to clarify a few things. Firstly, I love cooking. That too complicated stuff. If you hand me a cook book, I'll make sure I choose the most complicated and difficult recipe and try my hands at it. I think subconsciously I accept it as a challenge and try to prove my best. However, the outcome of these challenges may not necessarily be in my favour. Well not always. I'm pretty good at some stuff. I can cook up a mean pasta and chocolate mousse for example.
Over the years there have been a few kitchen mishaps that I have been a part of and wanted to share some with you. I would hereby like to guarantee that each of these events however surreal they may sound, did actually take place.Before I begin let me introduce you to 3 other main characters whose name you will regularly read in this blogpost.
1) Mom/Mum- The name says it all. Big Boss. Terrific knack of judgement and cooks without measurements. Hail Hitler!
2) Rima- My zero friend. (read the post). Someone who took cooking with a vengeance after one minor mishap which you will read about and is now referred to Mrs Rima Sanjeev Kapoor.
3) Indu Bai- My stud. My Man. My bodyguard. My kitchen help, well maybe I am her kitchen help!

Incident One,Bombay
One lazy afternoon, summer of 2008 I think, I was so bored and had nothing to do. Out of the blue I decide to surprise my mum who was out by making a marshmallow and chocolate milkshake and serving it to her when she returns home. Indubai and I get to work and start making the milkshake only to realize halfway that mum hates chocolate.However, since we were almost done, we made the milkshake anyway and drank it ourselves. Take 2- We decided to go ahead and make her a banana milkshake (Cause that was the only fruit available at home) instead of the chocolate. Since we had wasted so much time drinking and perfecting our first milkshake we didn't realize that mum will be home soon. Anyway, so the milk, sugar, bananas go into the blender and suddenly the door bell rings. Indubai panics cause she knows its mum and runs like a jerk to open the door. I panic cause I need to stop her from opening the door and simultaneously finish the milkshake or the surprise will be totally ruined. The climax of all this confusion was that I started the blender in my hurry to finish the milkshake without putting the lid on!
My mum was in for a shock as against a surprise as she spent rest of the afternoon cleaning the kitchen ceiling!

Incident Two, Bombay
Very similar to incident one and a reason I stay far away from pressure cookers. It wasn't my fault really. Silly Indubai leaves daal in the pressure cooker and goes to chat with my neighbours maid. She asks me to shut the gas after 5 whistles. It was a Sunday afternoon and I'd woken up pretty early because my credit card bill had arrived the previous evening and I obviously had to behave myself for a week or so. While waiting in the kitchen for those 5 whistles, I happened to fall asleep. Obviously those 5 whistles probably became 50 whistles until I was woken up with a loud bomb blast like sound where I literally saw the lid of the pressure cooker fly right upto the ceiling and the daal fly out like a volcano's pissed off lava.
Obviously, the rest of the afternoon was like most of the others spent cleaning the kitchen ceiling. It was repainted later that month because of the yellow polka dot daal stains.  

.Incident Three,Bombay
I was back from London and very upbeat about cooking delicious breakfasts every morning. Yeah, you can imagine how long that lasted! So on day one, I decided to make pancakes with maple syrup for everyone. First one, was just perfect as was the second. Suddenly I thought I was this pro chef from some Michelin star restaurant or wherever, basically the master of pancakes. I volunteered to go and make some for my neighbour who had called her cousins to watch and learn from me the great. All was well until I decided to act over smart and flip the pancake in the pan. So, I held the pan with my hand and flipped it with so much force that plop, the half cooked pancake landed on my neighbors head and the batter ran down his face. Very messy rest of the day. Chef Razzdino was history. 

Incident Four, Lucknow
Ok this was years and years go when my maternal grandparents lived in Lucknow and we visited them during summer vacations. Afternoons there used to be a little dull with most of the family sleeping and I didn't have much to do. So in order to pass time, I decided to make hot and sour soup for my grandfather. Obviously, I was quite young and not allowed to go anywhere near the gas so little chef razzdino attempted soup without using the gas. Cold and sour soup in her own words :P. So I took a bowl of cold water, added half a bottle of vinegar, chilli powder (Cause I was not allowed to use a knife to cut chillies) and the works and garnished my beautiful bowl of poison with some mint leaves. Poor nana had to bear the brunt of this poisonous substance and in order to avoid hurting my feelings he had to pretend he loved it which indirectly meant he had to eat/drink at least quarter of that bowl. The doctor visited us later that night as nana felt miserably ill and little chef razzdino was history for rest of the trip.

Incident Five, Bombay
This wasn't me. This brilliant episode was successfully executed by Rima, the great. So at about 10:30 one night when my family and me were just chilling in front of the idiot box we get a phone call from Rima stating how she has made the most awesome dessert and how they were coming over immediately to share it with us. Obviously we were all waiting in anticipation when Rima arrives with this big beautiful bowl of Indian dessert all covered with a Muslin cloth looking every bit majestic. Rima serves all of us generous portions of this amazing dessert and everyone seems to be enjoying (or rather pretending to enjoy it). I take one bite and almost want to spit it out. Conversation that follows :

Razzdino- Have you put salt in this dessert instead of sugar it tastes awful!
Rima-      No! You're just jealous! Everyone else seems to be loving it 
Rest (Putting their bowls down)- Very Gently, Err, it is kinda salty
Razzdino- If you didn't change the sugar for salt what did you do?
Rima- Well the recipe said cream cheese, I couldn't find any, so I put cheese spread instead!
Razzdino - FACEPALM
Rima-     But it was Kraft and I used very expensive other ingredients in gigantic quantities
Rimas Dad- There goes my 1K down the drain!
Post this incident Rima took to cooking with a vengeance and her book shelf at home only had Sanjeev Kapoor encyclopedias. Have to admit shes been a fantastic cook ever since.

Incident Six, Delhi
I feel awful that this happened. No really. Its not even funny at some level. When I was younger a lot of  vacations were spent in Delhi as lot of my extended lived there. So one summer when mum and my relatives were out somewhere my uncle and I were chilling and watching some India versus England test match. Suddenly I decide that I need to bake muffins. My uncle being the supportive one he is was very happy and excited to try my baking adventure. Suddenly my uncles friend dropped in and I was busy in the kitchen while they were busy chatting elsewhere. So finally after a lot of hard work my muffins were ready and brought to the table. Both the uncles tried to bite into them but couldn't. My uncle stopped after a few tries but the other uncle was determined to get a bite of these rocks. Poor thing lost a tooth in trying to bite into my muffin. Still don't know what went wrong :(. He rushed to the dentist and I was deported back to Bombay the next day





Cut to present, Bombay 
 Fed up of constantly using recipe books Indubai and I decide to make halwa for ourselves. I mean how tough can it get right? Sugar, Rava and Ghee. We put it in the pan and cook it. As usual Mom was not at home or this incident would have never occurred. What we didn't know is that this preparation would require some amount of milk or water as well. Anyway I kept stirring still this whole lump caramelized into something so hard it wouldn't come out of the pan. Obviously freaked out we took it off the gas and tried to use a knife but the lump was so hard the knife broke! Just imagine!
I desperately started looking around for tools when i suddenly came across a hammer and screwdriver. Voila! we immediately tried using these tools to release the halwa from the pan but it was so stubborn that it just wouldn't come out.
Repeat of incident one, mom rings the door bell, we are so frightened we throw the pan into the bin, get caught and into deep trouble, hands red from. Sigh!

Few incidents apart I am not as bad a cook as maybe portrayed through this blogpost. Come over for dinner sometime. But make sure I've looked into the book and cooked :)
 

Been Long

Its been so long since I last wrote. Honestly, I didn't have anything worthy to write about. Life has been pretty much the same old routine. As I flipped the calendar page today (yes, I was a little late to do so) it suddenly dawned unto me that half the year is already over and I haven't done a single thing I had planned to.
From little things like piercing my nose to some bigger changes I intended to make in 2011, I haven't even made the slightest attempt to achieve. I sometimes wonder if it is correct to get your mind so occupied with your work that even in your free time all you think about is work. There has to be a switch off button that I can use the minute I step out of my work place. My phone adds to my misery by constantly reminding me of things to do at work and sometimes I actually have to make an attempt to turn it off the entire weekend just to get my mind out of thinking about my task lists.
I need to prioritize. I need a sense of direction. Something I have to work on myself. I realize that everyday I want new things completely different from the ones I wanted the day before. I take advice from a chosen few who luckily always listen to my rants and tell me what they think is correct but ultimately it is me who has to take that decision.
Why am I so afraid to speak what I feel? Why is it that I am unable to tell someone what I really think of them? Why am I always so worried about the other persons feelings that I fail to think about myself? No one really thinks before telling me how they feel right! So why do I think things over and over again till they reach a point where it doesn't really matter cause it becomes a thing of the past. Why do I pretend to not care when I so totally do!
I wonder how my association with people other than my trusted few will continue in the coming years. I can't tell them I love them. I can't tell them I hate them. So its going to get really really difficult to start understanding me if I don't get my act together pretty soon.
Just like a perfectly organized Virgo,I think I am going to begin my writing down my wants and prioritizing them. Once I figure what I really want, at least I can begin work on the first few points.
Lately people close to me felt I was sharing too much of my real life online. Through twitter, facebook, foursquare etc. I thought about it and felt like I agree and hence I've temporarily deleted my twitter and foursquare account. Twitter was also becoming a platform for people to be experts on any subject of their choice and start giving gyan which had begun to bore me. I think I like learning from my own mistakes as against listening to lectures from a few uncalled for experts. Foursquare was actually quite fun but then again sharing some of my feeds on twitter lead to some disastrous encounters :) (Well almost). Facebook is something I haven't been able to detach myself from yet, I really seem to enjoy it so I think I'm going to stay on there for a while.
Mehra constantly talks to me about detachment. Gone in an instant, snap your fingers and its over. Not sure if I can practice with so much ease, even if I pretend to otherwise. I get emotionally attached. to things, people, places, the worst part being that the people involved have no idea and guess they never will. Sigh!
Anyway, moving to happier things looking forward to Delhi Belly this week (now that I have finally understood the lyrics to most of their songs). Spaghetti Kitchen opens its doors 5 minutes away from home. Oh the joy in little things!