If there is one thing I am proud of, it is my skills in the kitchen. It is amazing how I use the freshest of perishables and the most aromatic of spices and condiments and still manage to whip up something so extraordinary that neither my husband nor the neighbour's cat seem to appreciate! I would like to label them ungrateful but on second thought, I think it may have something to do with the frequent visits to the 'rest'room and the garden by the husband and the cat respectively. I could simply ask my husband the reason for lack of appreciation for my efforts but I do not want to lose my guinea pigs. You see, I am at an experimental phase and I aim to strive on until one of the two openly revolts. Not that I see it happening as my husband is tongue-tied in my presence, not because of my heavenly beauty (ahem!!) but because of my pleasant sumo wrestler kind of personality, and the cat keeps coming back for more and it helps that she cannot talk and so I assume my cooking skills are not a cause for concern. Yet.
It all started this Holi, with a statement of my dear father-in-law. Now, I have to drive home a point here. The daughter-in-law's worth/competence is decided by the range of dishes she can cook (or claims to cook) in most houses. Holi is a festival for which my mother-in-law prepares around 573 sweets and savories. I might be a bit off on the ballpark number there but I guess that is what prompted my father-in-law to ask me, sweetly, if I knew how to prepare certain dishes that are a must on Holi. That should have been my cue to change the subject and talk about 'Pandits' and 'Prayers' but I guess the cat caught my tongue! Or maybe it was my ego bursting with a loud bang that startled me! But I recollected my composure and like a dutiful daughter-in-law I did the only thing I could do then. Lie! By the end of our conversation he must have believed that I cook Indian food for the Queen of England and he must have put me right at the top of his list of best cooks, just below his wife.
The great lie has spurred me to action and I am now trying out different recipes (courtesy YouTube) and feeding them to my very own, albeit reluctant, guinea pigs (;-)). I agree my rasagulla's could be used as professional golf balls, my jalebis could be passed of as tapeworm, my baturas could be used as frisbee... (Oh! Flash! Boing! Flash! that's why the playful cat keeps coming back!) but I think I am getting the hang of cooking. Maybe, no, definitely, I'll surprise (may not be pleasantly) my father-in-law with my brand of cooking next Holi.
I must say, my poor ego, that went 'pop' is repaired and filling up on hot air. Before the next visit to in-laws place it plans on having enough reserve and not be caught unawares again!
So, wish me luck that I may conquer the world of cooking and make my father-in-law proud or maybe I should just try and stay in my mother-in-law's good books. She holds the title of the best cook in the family and she may not take kindly to me if I grab it. On second thought, maybe I should just concentrate on keeping my guinea pigs alive.
