‘Anyone can cook. ‘ But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he (chef Gustavo) meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist *can* come from *anywhere* – The Famous by Anton Ego (movie Ratatouille)
Well. That’s not me. Beyond all reasonable doubts, that’s definitely not me. You can never ever confuse me, even remotely – a cook; leave alone a chef. Probably that’s the reason you don’t see a category for cooking here, also any posts.
There is no shame in accepting that historically my cooking was limited to recipes of ice cubes and lemonades. Well, that, if you exclude me turning sheeks in Barbecue Nation considered as cooking.
Good people at household did not trust me around the kitchen, and there are several reasons for it.
- My well-wishers and I did not trust myself around the kitchen fire. For me, it seems logical to believe a bigger flame can cook the dish faster. Hint: It does not.
- I am a curious animal. I tend to open the lid of the blender/mixer to check the consistency. Hint: Don’t do it while running.
- I tend to pick the wrong utensil for the wrong dish. Transferring midway through the process is a nightmare, and trust me, people don’t like it.
- Although I may be good at cleaning, people don’t appreciate its need of having done in the first place. Apparently, avoiding a mess is vital.
There are several other reasons, but you get it. Every time I volunteered to contribute, I was told to get out of the kitchen and asked, sit in the corner and play with my blog!!
Then about a year back, COVID lockdown happened, and cooking became a matter of survival. Trust me, there are only so many days you can eat noodles in a cup before you start hating it. Ordering in or eating out were ruled out. The only option was to cook and eat, burnt or otherwise. So that’s the story. As of today, I did not yet graduate from cooking. However, one thing for sure, if I am stranded like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, I will survive without having eaten a football 🙂
Here, some photos of my plate and some good stuff on it.
Disclaimer: although I am claiming varying degrees of credits for these, I am obligated to announce I had extra helping hands and monitoring eyes watching over my shoulder that I don’t burn the salads. (Question: how do you burn the salad? )