HOUSE OF THE QUAINT CUISINE

So what youth, shifting towns and a baby couldn't do, this lock down did! It started me on cooking. For the first time in my 48 years. Actually honestly I wouldn't have done it. But the choice was my mom cooking or me. Apart from the fact that at 70 her cooking or @48, me, it was also fueled by the fact that she hates cooking. I was also told by someone close to me: "Try cooking, it is therapeutic." Coupled with these two facts and that I am a hard core foodie, I crossed that threshold one bright day in the second part of March 2020.

And therein started in tryst with cooking food. YouTube was opened, recipes were got from well-wishers and all concerned. Mandatory photos were taken, clearly the excitement was up. Needless to say, the first few days, how my parents ate was the example of how they must have appreciated my first attempts at writing. Just with love. My kid ate it, coz clearly she doesn't have a palate yet(thank God for that!). But me, well, I can't say I went hungry. But clearly had the food maid made such food, she would have got marching orders!

Of course, the photos were fine, thankfully! And life looked. The fear of eating bad food, made me plod along and slowly slowly I upped the game to edible food. All the photos and encouragement on various social platforms and whats app fam groups made me work towards betterment. Confidence poured in more quantity than the olive oil that went in dishes. And then began the flirting with different cuisines.

The pastas and pizzas, the Chinese Cuisines, full with momos to boot. The hummus and the ilk, all flowed out. Day after day, yummier and yummier stuff. Waffles and Pancakes soon followed and I felt good. I had mind of mastered something I ran away from all my life. From each pore of my body, poured in more confidence. I felt like Wonder Woman.

Give me a recipe and I was killing it. I was the balloon that went from being a small blob, into a being that was floating in the air. Growing bigger. And bigger. When the balloon floats and inflates, can a pin be far behind? While my mother was boasting to all, and my father was secretly smiling, no one saw THE PIN come. And it did! Suddenly!

One day, as we sat for dinner of the umpteenth time of our god-awesome , near restt. Chinese dinner, my 4 year old kid refused to eat. Adamantly. We brushed it off as a usual 'not wanting to eat veggies' tantrum. And then she huffed and puffed and blew my House of Quaint Cuisine down by uttering the following words "But I don't like all this food Mamma.. I only want dal chawal!!!! E.V.E.R.Y.D.A.Y." There. The pin. The balloon. And the feel of the prick. That's how the House of Quaint Cuisine packed up!!! For the time being.