I can make a decent cup of tea. And that’s the only think I can make in a kitchen. I am not exaggerating. I have tried and failed gloriously time and again. I like to think some people are not meant for kitchen chores. And by chores I don’t just mean cooking. It includes a multitude of side activities that go into preparing a dish. If I had my way, I’d make cooking an adventure sport and get it included in the list of 57 official Olympic Games. I am not kidding. Let me put this into perspective to you.
Have you ever tried to make a simple round roti? The amount of multitasking involved in this minor task is mind boggling. Having all the tools and ingredients ready is a mammoth task in itself. Keeping track of whether I have flipped the previous chhapati and getting the next one ready in time is a pain in the ass. And don’t even get me started on the burns I endure during the process. The result is a pappad-like-roti, jisko dekh kar main roti rehti hu. Leave alone a round roti, I am incapable of making even an edible roti.
Why an adventure sport you ask? Have you seen anything being deep fried? All that extremely hot oil ready to just bounce out of the vessel and fall on your uncovered arm. Or worse, your pretty face. Maybe you’ve seen tadka being made (tempering for those unfamiliar with tadka)? That big red chillies going off like a fire cracker in hot bubbling oil in a space vessel. It pops off sometimes, you know. The seeds of the chilli may just land up in your eyeball. I know that’s horrifying but you know it’s true. There is a possibility of it happening and you cannot deny that.
Another case in point, I got burnt by a cheese slice once. Yes, a cheese slice. You might be wondering how that is even possible. But, yours truly managed even this impossible seeming feat. Once I even managed to touch a freaking hot pan and burn myself when I wasn’t even working with it. I was making sandwiches. Till this date I haven’t figured out how I managed this one. Finally to sum up, I once burnt not one, but two entire pappads. Like the entire thing. They were gone. Completely. I annihilated their existence.
So yes, cooking should be the 58th Olympic sporting event. You might disagree, but my burnt roti strongly concurs with that notion.