Sometimes I hate it sooooooooooo much.
There was a time I used to love trying out new dishes. Oh, those were the days!
Cooking has now become more of a daily monotonous ritual & I no longer derive the same sense of triumph I used to earlier.
Much to almost an open-mouthed shock of my mother, I first landed up in kitchen after my plus two exams to try my hand at Shahi Paneer with the aid of a cook book. This was done solely to impress my parents. The rest , as they say, was history. I earned lots of appreciation, genuine or from a sense of courtesy, I have no idea. It inflated my pride and I became a regular in experimenting with one or two dishes almost everyday.
By the time I finished my post graduation, I guess I could invite and cook for five to seven people at a time. So much for my confidence at culinary skills.
By the time I finished my post graduation, I guess I could invite and cook for five to seven people at a time. So much for my confidence at culinary skills.
Employment and marriage interevened and with these, a clock controlled routine. Job on the one side, hubby on the other- each demanding my attention- and I in between, trying to manage both the fronts with elan like every other super woman.
Now if interesting news or programmes grab my attention; if I simply wish to while away the hours lazily; if there are deadlines to be met or if I do not wish to cook...
I shriek in the kitchen- yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa cooking!!!
O God, produce an Alladin's genie to take care of it please!
And then after some time...
I feel like trying out a new dish and go back enthusiastically to COOKING.The appreciation on the face of the usurper of my food is a reward I cannot let go in the hands of any outsider on hire except in an emergency.
