The way to a man’s heart…

…is undoubtedly through his stomach. When amma had narrated her experience as the coy new bride, almost paranoid to serve her husband with her first hand-cooked feast, I had laughed. I had declared haughtily in feminist-air to hiring cooks or ordering food or letting him stay hungry in response to a prospective husband. But upbringing and good judgment had taught me otherwise and here I am almost two years away from wedding bells and all the rest, slogging away in the heat of a kitchen hearth, doling out meals for a foodie partner, who believes a paunch is nothing short of – ‘a sign of prosperity’ ! Bigger the better, isn’t it??

My metamorphoses from a lousy cook (one who couldn’t stand her own cooking) to an edible one had taken a long time. All the inexperience starting with lighting of a gas stove had tumbled over as a rude reminder of my inadequacy. Okra fry turned out like soup, rajma was disrespectful, chapattis like rock and sambhar sweet. Amidst this phase of disaster, almost four years ago, I had made a modest meal of thair-sadam and aalo fry for N, who during that time was neither friend nor more than friend; somewhere in the grey area.

He had thrown loose remarks of the thair-sadam being as tasty as his mother’s and stated the ironically mashed mutilated aalo fry was delicious. I had almost not believed him, but the prospect of being complimented was too overwhelming to counter. I had basked in the words, not because they came from N; not at all. But for that encouragement I needed to further my cooking and having found the perfect guinea pig!

Forty months and after, fifty disasters and five hundred odd successes and later, N and I make a good team at the kitchen counter.  I definitely don’t believe that too many cooks in the house can ever be a problem; and as long as one can take over when the other is having a tough day, there could be nothing more comforting.

So today, when N lip-finger-smacked at the dum biriyani (ann’s recipe), which I perfected after around eight attempts, owing to my first experience with meat(chicken in this case) he quips “I can finally say that I married you for the right reason!” Men! I sigh. Clearly their heart is never ever in the right place!


2 thoughts on “The way to a man’s heart…

  1. Jyothi says:

    Ha HA HA… you have now realised it!!!!! Whatever say or you do…. Men will never change… they will live for food… they will feel they married so that we can cook, look after thier clothes, and be a good secretary to them…..
    The only difference is that once a while they take on our role a bit… ultimately messing it all up !!!!!
    CHEERS to your culinary skills!!!!

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