I’m not a foodie.
No, I seriously mean that. I do not have many choices, likes or dislikes. I eat almost everything that is offered to me except may be non-vegetarian food other than fish, chicken and lamb. These too I avoid on many a days. My mother too cannot tell you what my favourite food item is. That’s true. While she used to make a different sabzi for my little sis every time she had prepared baigan (eggplant) ka barta, bhindi (okra) or jimmikand (yam) masala, she never offered me such an option. It wouldn’t be right to put it that way and blame her, because I never showed my disinterest in any item. Thanks to Acha being with me during the initial 5 years. So Amma could never make out if I even had a dislike for a certain vegetable or dish. After marriage, I have always left it to the husband to order food at a restaurant. Not because I’m a pati-vrata patni (a chaste, devoted and loyal wife), but because I’m too lazy to even pick up the menu card and go through all the listed items. 😀 😉
Similarly, I am not a great cook. I am not at all fond of cooking. I cook only because there’s no one else to cook or because I find certain dishes prepared by me better than those prepared by the maid. I can just ensure that nobody remains hungry. It’s only recently that I have dared to try out certain new and quick-fix recipes shared on various pages during the weekends.
I have a very bad habit which I haven’t shared with many. I cannot stand any disturbance when I’m having my dinner. Dinner is one meal that I prefer to have in peace. May be because I have always had my breakfast running around or gulping it all down within seconds. From school, to college and till date. Lunch was mostly a short but fun affair with friends and colleagues. So dinner is the only meal that I get to eat at home in a relaxed manner. I eat just one chappati (maximum two chappatis), but I want complete peace while having it.
Post Lil Love’s birth, I had a tough time having dinner. As a crawling child she ensured that I never got to finish my meal. Either she will throw the plate by flying in from somewhere or she will jump directly into my plate. I would have happily accepted if it had helped me shed a few kilograms. But it didn’t. It only made me shed my patience.When she was one and a half years old, I decided finally that I could not take it any longer. I started having my meals before anybody else (including Lil Love) and I made sure that I’ll not get up even if there was an earthquake or a bomb blast. That saved me. Even now, most of the days I have my dinner by 7-7.30 p.m. The kids too have accepted that Mamma needs a peaceful dinner time else she becomes a monster herself. 😀
Now before I forget, let me take you through the episode that I want to share today.
After marriage, when we had shifted from our in-laws place and had started living closer to office, hubby always sat late in the office to complete his work. I was well aware that being a sales executive, he used to return to office late in the evening after his calls and then had to attend to his emails, train his juniors and submit his weekly sales reports (those days laptops had not been introduced in our organisation). But since I had nobody to talk to at home, I was very upset about not having him around and having to wait for him till late in the night. One night, he returned home and asked me to serve food. By then I had gotten into the character of Kaikeyi and was lying on the bed fuming furiously. Thankfully I never speak when I am upset or angry. Poor guy kept repeating his request and I refused to respond. Tired he was and so he went straight into the kitchen to find nothing at all. He cannot skip meals. It’s a boon for me. 😀 He always says,
“Why to be angry with food? What sin has food done? Let’s have food and then we’ll continue with the fight.”
He came back and said the same. I didn’t budge at all. He then went and made chappatis (bread). By this time I had cooled down. So I got up and went into the kitchen to find a completely cluttered slab and messed up floor and two chappatis made by him. It would be incorrect to call them chappatis. They were of the size of 9-10 chappatis stuffed together. Chappattas. I named them. 😀 That was the first and last time I allowed him to make chappatis because he had used up as much flour that could have lasted us for a full week or 10 days. I had only seen such a scene in movies or daily soaps. That was the first and last practical experience. The good part is that it made me ensure that from that day onward I’ll only prepare the meals even if I was angry. 😀
So now you know that I love my chappati very very much. 🙂
On a different note, he’s a foodie himself and loves to try out different dishes. He also loves to cook sometimes. He does make tasty dishes like fish curry, chicken masala, meat, dal fry, egg curry, and I just love half-fry prepared by him. Once he also tried making Kadi Pakora. The only prerequisite is he needs a helping hand to get him all the right ingredients. He can’t differentiate some of the masalas. The side-effects of his cooking is that a massive cleaning drive needs to be undertaken post his scuffle with the utensils and gas stove. Also for the next several days, weeks, months, years, we get to hear stuff like, “I made so and so and it was so yummy.“, “You guys did not appreciate the out-of-the-world experience with my dish.” “That something that I made was much more tastier and perfect than this.” See, there’s proof that Sakshi’s post (When Men Cook) was such a truthful one. 😀
This post if written as part of Write Tribe Festival of Words 2. Today’s prompt is ‘FOOD’.