The Kitchen Konnection Of A Brave Husband

It’s irrefutable fact that the women are encroaching each and every corner of activities that were constitutionally reserved for the caste of the men. I do not mind it much. But lately I have some good news that the men are also taken an attacking posture and have started grabbing the land, which were covered by the fairer sex, the ladies only. They had exclusive reign over the kitchen. But the men are ready to burn their hands there, too.

Encouraged by this new development, I was also prompted to register my contribution to the new trend. Generally in the house where two grown up daughters and an authoritative wife live, there is no room for men to interfere into the kitchen issues. I, too, hardly had such opportunity until a day when we, the authoritative lady and I, were alone in our house and I declared my bona fide intentions to handle the subjects of kitchen for a day.

When I told my wife about my intention, she first looked at me in a manner a commander look at a child wishing to join the army.
“Look gentleman, this is not your cup of tea.” She said.
Encouraged my hearing the word gentleman, I told her: “Look, if they decide, the people even learn skydiving, you know.”

On my skydiving desire, she yielded but with a condition: “Do what you like. But don’t shout in kitchen and don’t call me in between.”
I agreed boldly.

I had close connection with hardships; and our kitchen didn’t look like a battlefield, as it was not poor so far as the means are concerned. However I remembered mahatma Gandhi who said that, “Just choose your target, and the means will follow.” I followed Gandhiji.

At first sight I do not find any enmity when I encountered with the potatoes, the tomatoes, cabbages, and the cooking oil. Only I was apprehensive of the hotplate, as I knew about the potential hazards of that article. But what I missed most in the kitchen were two crucial things: first there was no fan in the kitchen side, and secondly there was no previous experience on my side. But I thought I would not allow the lack of experience to over power me. And for the fan-less environment, I remembered the soldiers fighting in the desert of Rajasthan. That created an air of will power in me, the will power of a martyr.

The drawer was full of knives and spoons of al the sizes. I got all of them lined on the kitchen platform. The spoons and knives looked at me, as if they were worried for the masculine presence in the kitchen. Their collective screaming resulted in my wife’s attention. “You wouldn’t need 80% of them”: an authoritarian voice. Okay. I was to undergo the venture of Masala Dausa; but my wife made it simpler. “If you can learn making just Idlee, it would be a great relief to me.” I went on the road to provide her some relief.

There was another reason to prefer the item, Idlee: there is a law in management book—smaller the output, larger is the quality. I preferred the equality side.

So it was just sambhar I was to prepare; idlee was just a mechanical work. Done, with one imperfection: the group of eight idlees turned out to be softer and more elastic than it should be. Not bad for a starter.

But the sambhar was the test of my abilities. I always insisted the right proportion of the spices and et cetera; even the smell of an article matters. You know there are housing schemes that advertise that you purchase our flat for Rupees Twenty-five lac and furniture of Rupees One lac will be free. In case of the food articles sold in the hotels, we simply purchase the smell emanating from their not-see-able kitchens. We do pay for it; and then we get the food article free.

Though I was unaware of the system through which an ideal proportion of the tastes is achieved, I was thinking about making it best I could. Meanwhile something smelt badly. Something rang like derailing of a train. The combination of oil and boiled potatoes were not happy with each other. At once I wanted to disconnect the pan off the hot plate. I did it. And Dhadam… ooooooh and oooooouuch. The pan was too hot and I had caught it just by hand! A great shout.

My wife dashed into the kitchen, like the black commandos do rush. The firing of scolding at me, sprinkling of cold water on the burns, finding the tube of antiseptic cream, and threatening for not to enter the kitchen again: these were the unexpected items that ruled next half an hour. Two fingers were burnt and the right hand thumb had a heavy scar of the burning. The venture left in the middle; the idea to be a cook postponed.

As a lawyer I hardly forget my defeats; but so far as my kitchen konnection is concerned, I would like to make an exception.

Learning isn't child's play; we can't learn without pain

--ARISTOTLE

Dear Navalji,

Welcome to Indus.

I am so happy that u obliged me by coming here.I hope u have a great time, and don’t u dare take away the pretty ladies away from me.I will kill u.


Dear I lites,

You must read Navanji, he is one of the wittiest bloggers u will ever read.Enjoy his blogs and comment wholeheartedly on his blogs to encourage him.

Thank you.Regards.kamal

Dear Navalji,


Stay away from the kitchen.I hope my wife dosnt read this blog and tell me that see Naal has entered the kitchen, now u too start to learn cooking.HAHA

Great one. Just love yr sense of humour.Welcome to Indus.

Regards.kamal

Navalbhai : Welcome to IL, you are indeed a brave husband and you have given hope to millions of other married men that all is not lost so lage raho Navalbhai.

HAHAHAHA...i was rolling with laughter Navaljee.

Kamalji, you have made my day...just now i came to know that you have introduced Navaljee too...So now with the 3 musketeers to write the wittiest blog i am sure we are going to be very very healthy.......

After all " laughter is the best medicine" so you, navaljee and bhiku bhaiyaa.

I just remembered the incident about 2 yrs ago i had to go to US for official work and my husband was alone here. So that morning, it was just 2-3 days after i landed there and the people around me were asking does Ssmirbhai know cooking...how is he managing alone now ....and lo he called me up at that very moment...hi dear good morning...can you tell me how to make Ukaala...mummy and buaji is here so i need to prepare it in the morning....everyone around me burst out laughing and started pulling his legs.

You guys rock.

Roopa.

Navaljee nice to see you here.(Should I thank Kamalji for your presence?). Better luck next time in the kitchen! Don't attempt Idli Sambhar try something simpler. A good idli is a magic of textural tightrope walk. It should neither be rubbery nor bricklike.. I would exaggedrate. If I say that it should melt in the mouth but it should have a grainy texture and should not stick to your throat when you swallow it. And Sambhar it can defeat the dyed-in-the-wool South Indian!

Welcome to IL................

You took inspiration from Gandhiji's saying and from the soldiers fighting in the desert...to try your skill in the kitchen......

But what happened........Never mind....it inspired you to give us this humorous post...
looking forward to your next adventure.....

Great post. Reminded me of another good post a few days ago. 'One day homemaker' was it? Anyway, I must say your wife cooperated with you far more than mine would. I have often expressed similar desires. She reacts by pointing at me something that bears alarming resemblance to an AK47. I have given up.

Originally Posted by saraswathipv

Welcome to IL................

You took inspiration from Gandhiji's saying and from the soldiers fighting in the desert...to try your skill in the kitchen......

But what happened........Never mind....it inspired you to give us this humorous post...
looking forward to your next adventure.....

I had conceived an idea that one day I would cook a full dish for my better half . And by doing so I would show her that I can do something in her territory , too. But alas, the first attempt had resulted in retreat. But I will take chance again.

Naval Langa

Originally Posted by ojaantrik

Great post. Reminded me of another good post a few days ago. 'One day homemaker' was it? Anyway, I must say your wife cooperated with you far more than mine would. I have often expressed similar desires. She reacts by pointing at me something that bears alarming resemblance to an AK47. I have given up.

Humour appart I believe that when they are alone in home, husband and wife must cook jointly in kitchen. Such periodical efforts could make them understanding each other in a better way.

Naval Langa