My cousins were visiting me and I had gone through everything (that is nothing, really) that I cook decently in my head. And I did that while doing the dishes and also cut my finger while cleaning the knife. That seemed to trigger a wicked corner of my brain that I didn’t know existed. I thought blood flow to the neurons activated the brain, in my case, it was blood loss. What if I asked my husband to come up with a list? Now, that was one of my smartest moves ever. If he comes up with a list, it solves my problem, if he doesn’t I get to argue and fight. This could quite definitely be the definition of a win –win situation.
“I cut my finger, while cleaning that stupid knife. Now, tell me the top three things I cook. Start from the third one. I like drama.”
“What? How is that even possible? You can cut yourself while washing the knife? It happens while chopping but…”
“Now, will you tell me the list or not?”
My brain with activated wicked centres was beaming with so many possibilities as to where this conversation can go that I completely forgot about the cut in my index finger.
“ 3. Noodles, 2. Raw Banana fry and 1. “
Oh dear God, he was actually going to give me a list? What is happening in the world? Was it good husband week, no day, or something? Come on, good husband week? That will not happen anywhere, even on Facebook. Equipped with the list, I decided I need to cook something I have never cooked before. I could feel wickedness transforming into dumbness. How? Hey, the blood loss had stopped. Also, somehow I felt confident to conquer new lands since my husband had a list. I decided to do a trail run in the evening for Bisibelebath and hesarbele payasa (Kheer made from split green lentils).
I was shocked that I hadn’t tried bisibelebath before. It is like an upgraded, cooler version of sambhar rice. Also, it is the easiest thing you can whip up when you want a hearty meal with minimal effort. Also, you have an excuse to eat something crunchy (mostly deep fried) with it.
I put chopped vegetables, rice, and yellow lentils (toor dal) in a pressure cooker. For the payasa, I made a paste with roasted khus khus, cashew nuts, and coconut. I was running a little low on hesarbele. I thought I will keep some for the main event and tipped in half of it into a pan and started dry roasting it. While I was roasting, I could hear, feel, and see a few things crisping up – little crispy, pink things amidst the yellow lentils. They were actually worms which were eating away the lentils that I obviously didn’t notice. Shit had to go wrong sometime or the other.
I threw the lentils away and saw that the remaining had a few worms left. I thought of dropping the payasa idea but I didn’t know what to do with the paste I made. My husband is a non vegetarian, I thought. So, I rinsed the remaining lentils with water many times to make sure there weren’t any worms left and began dry roasting them again. By that time, the cooker had whistled and cooled down.
I put bisibelebath powder, salt, tamarind water to the lentil-veggie-rice mix. I took out the one packet of milk I had to put in the payasa and cut it. And it happened again. Milk in a TETRAPACK had curdled/gone very bad. Either I am nuts to make this shit up or I am nuts that these things keep happening to me. There went another batch of lentils to the bin and the whole payasa idea out of my brain forever. I was frustrated at this point and over worked the bisibelebath with a lot of anger. I turned off the stove. Screw cooking, I am doing the dishes.
Half an hour later,
“I am never doing the dishes again nor will I cook.”
“Why? What happened?”
“The bisibelebath is a mess with broken rice, the payasa never happened and, and there is so much of blood.”
“Did you cut your finger again? How is that even possible?”
“That knife, that stupid knife. It is trying to kill me.”
Dear God, what did I marry into?!
Neurons, blood flow, blood loss? What, you are a doctor now?
Drama isn’t going anywhere from your life.
Can’t remember the top dish of the list? Don’t, Don’t share this link with husband.
No, don’t ask him what No.1 was.
No, the brain doesn’t work like you imagine it.
No, no one reads your blog.
God! I should stop this mental notes thing.
Keep band aids handy.