I've always admired men who're good at the culinary art. Probably, my admiration comes from an utter helplessness, on my part, to do something worthwhile in the kitchen. Thanks to some painstaking lessons from Lekha, I can now make a passable cup of tea!
And there are some attendant muddles that I invariably end up with when I'm in the kitchen - like forgetting to shut down the cooking range completely(once, I'd to rush back from office to shut down the system), the normally well behaved gas lighter has a tendency to have quite a few false starts and ultimately when it does, a huge flame bursts out which could end up in a fire hazard(thankfully, it hasn't thus far) and the worst is that I end up with a burnt hand/hands simply because I'd tried to handle a utensil, that was above room temperature and I'd forgotten in the heat(?!) of the moment thanks to a misplaced, irrational enthusiasm!
My culinary attempts or the lack of it has been the butt of jokes amongst my friends, course mates and family. Quite a while back, while I was at the Academy and going through the paces of Camp Greenhorn in my II term, I'd deviced what seemed to be a novel idea to me then. Dry rations given to each cadet at the beginning of the night march were supposed to be cooked at the end of the trek and eaten before turning in for the night. While most of my friends laboured with their resources and made passable meals for themselves, I'd mixed my share of the raw rice with sugar and had the 'dry porridge' for supper giving rise to a mirthful night at the campsite, for the 'route march weary' and exhausted crowd! A few of them offered to share their meals with me seeing my efforts!!
I take a philosophical stand on such occasions to hide my deficiency and stand rooted to the saying, "one must eat to live and never live to eat".
Lekha's off for a couple of days to attend a family function and I'm already feeling helpless!
No comments:
Post a Comment