Ok, we have the biggest, hugest, scariest pandemic on hand, and even the Aliens are skipping coming to Earth. And, to top it all, we have an asteroid coming to blast us all to smithereens. It’s a sad, sad situation; we are all fighting and overcoming it, be it with Tai-chi, mediation, music or calls or moping and the one that has taken all of us by storm, cooking.
I mean, we live to cook, but here we all are cooking in such a manner as if we could beat the virus off with a belan.
Where ever I see or hear everyone is cooking these yummy, delectable, scrumptious dishes and then we wonder why the clothes are getting tight.
The only solace is no one is meeting anyone, so ki farak painda hain ..and vaise bhi khande peende ghar de hain ( the true zaika is speaking in one’s Mother tongue ).
Never mind, we will be having food riots soon. It’s become a battlefield out there, regular cooking plus baking those pies and cakes and the cheesecakes; we will be the only country or the community to eat out the Corona through a food coma.
I kid you not; sometimes, I think the pink moon bewitched us all, and we all started whipping out these gastronomic delights. Everything is a work of art and, for me, fancy was coffee and cake, and that also got mysteriously changed to Dalgona coffee ( South Korea patents ).
An average parantha wali person living in the boondocks like me has started seeing frittata for breakfast with mushrooms and a side order of burnt tomatoes ( the organic garden went on an overdrive ). So them eggs, thanks to the free-range hens that think they own the farm plus all is a staple at our place. Sometimes, I do visualise the chicken on the plate, but I’ve grown fond of the hens and their vagabond behaviour!
The next thing in this era of social distancing was baking bread, and how ! I am telling you, we are baking,all of us have become competitors in making the humble bread. To sieve, cut and mix and knead and hoping and praying that Madam yeast works and isn’t temperamental. It rises, and then to beat the air, punch it ( get the frustration out) and then to bake and to lovingly baste it with a butter glaze to get the sheen and sprinkle some seeds and to then Instagram it.
I am guilty of this too, we all do this, bake, post and share on our social media accounts, but some days it seems it’s getting a tad bit competitive out there. I don’t want to bake, cook, or cut another salad, I don’t want any of the fancy-schmancy stuff, jut some golgappas, and some rehri wala noodles would be fine, and most importantly someone else would be making em!!!
Oh ! And the vegans and their smoothies and the kale and the spinach, and Andy more flax or chia seed I see, I would seriously cry. I’m not an Olive Oyl, just need this nightmare to end otherwise as to put it like Freddy Birdy ( who I love for his wit ) I’d be using old underwear, plus stevia plus three eggs, almond milk = a delicious keto breakfast. Let’s, just go rewind to 2019.