Kitchen Disasters

Forget the saying about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach and all the crass jokes associated with the adage. The fact is that some of our best memories has food at the centre stage - the proverbial ‘maa-ke-haath-ka-khana’ more than the real-life mother, the spread at a wedding feast is remembered more than the couple who’s wedding it was, the cake at a birthday party of a friend long forgotten, the aphrodisiac loaded dessert at a romantic dinner that later lead to a break-up…

I’ve taken to cooking in an all new way. I find it to be therapeutic, creative, expressive and connecting me to myself and myself to others. It makes me feel comfortable in a space that emanates from the concept of a hearth to the heart!  From the pineapple goodie (Karnataka) to the puttu (Kerala) to the muthiya (Gujarat) to the pasta (Italy), I’ve tried all these and met with some success and more failures. 

Puttu for a Sunday morning breakfast was a disaster! I spent some time getting some wise counsel from my lovely Malayali friends later and do plan on making a second attempt at it. The muthiya’s I made were of fenugreek leaves (methi), rolled oats ground coarse and millet flour. This I did not fry but baked instead. They were harder than I’d expected and have made a note in my diary on what not to do the next time around! I also made ragi cookies with honey, dates and almonds - this was a big hit! 

I’ve been stretching my health-food-cooking to extremes and met with great success when I made penne pasta with ragi. The biggest disaster by far was making spaghetti with ragi for a romantic Valentine’s dinner.

What did he say it looked like: I pile of worms! 

What did I do: I just poured him some more wine.