since we are born of our parents, it's natural that we are a combination of the genes of two people (the first step), our grandparents (the next step) and our fore-parents (not forefathers, please; the next step)... nothing new, you may say...
certainly not in what i have stated, but new is my latest avatar... that of a cook, who is cooking willingly, experimenting recipes and enjoying food after a long while and mind you, i have even cut down on my intake (in both the quantity as well as cutting out certain things totally, like sweets) since i am thoroughly enjoying what i am ruffling up.
what is the secret of this transformation? my erstwhile recruit, G, very very neatly put.
he had been cooking and cleaning since May 2008. initally a very pleasant chap, but suddenly got worldly wise... his speed of work increased, he started calling shots on what was to be cooked (no chana dal since it takes a long time to boil, only masur dal; no non-veg since he is a veg), no interest or time in learning to make any of my recipes since is "buzy".
i was seething inside but tried to make the best of what i had at hand since cooks are not easily available here... so in the meantime, i had started to make the odd dish that i wanted to have cooked. it was only making things more and more convenient for G who cared less and less.
his ways became more and more irritable and his timings more and more eratic; missed calls became common in an effort to intimate me that he would be late by a couple of hours since he was stuck with some odd job (read quick cash) at some odd place. SMSes also became cool with a cryptic note, "Please call me back."
finally it reached a boiling point when citing visa work he pleaded absence for 5 days, mind you through an SMS again...
if i can manage for 5 days, why not longer... so while i thought about it very hard, i replied to his message the next day, asking him to come on Feb 1 to collect his 3 day's salary...
since then (and it is more than a week now), i am the chef at home. it is grand freedom, to say the least. i decide what i want to have; i decide when i want to cook; and i decide at what pace i want things done, not in the pace set by my erstwhile bionic "buzy" cook...
and i have ruffled up kofta, bhape ilish and cholar daal
yesterday and both meals were silent, except for B's and R's clean plates and licking fingers.
while cooking, i was recalling the way Mom used to do when she used to... so all the credit goes to her...
muaaaaah, Ma, this is my way of saying, "I LOVE YOU."
On What Is Happening in Bangladesh
3 months ago
1 comment:
Godddddddd i narrowly mised a job opening!
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