Do you love to eat, but hate to cook?
Do you wish you knew of a method that would get you good food on the table with minimum fuss?
Then hurry, don't wait, this review is a must read for you!
I love food, and like my profile on MS says, I haven’t yet met a food I didn’t like, yet I hate cooking- absolutely, unequivocally, with no doubts what so ever, loathe the task. To make a sad situation worse, I’m not much of a cook either.
BUT
I get to eat some good-to-great food, on a regular basis. So how does this happen? Am I just plain lucky, or is there some strategy behind this fortunate happening?
Come with me dear reader, and I’ll let you in on my secret on eating well with little to no effort.
All you have to invest is 2 minutes of your time; rate/comment is strictly optional, but very welcome. In return for your trouble, you gentle reader, will take back with you 5 jealously guarded secrets, so far available only to a privileged few.
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1 – Dowry: Yes, I know dowry is a bad word in any ethical person’s dictionary, but bear with me dear reader, and trust me when I say that this kind of dowry is not as bad a thing as you might imagine.
My mother, as a shy bride, untrained in the fine art of dishing up delicious food, brought with her a cook when she travelled all those miles away from her parents’ home to her husband’s. (I heard she also chose to leave behind her silks and jewels, and brought instead 3 of her prized milch cows and a few hundred coconut saplings)
She promised me that I wouldn’t have to learn to cook, as she would do the same for me – Alas I got neither cook nor cow, and not even one coconut sapling.
The idea however is a brilliant one, and I suggest all you young men and women sit down with your parents and barter something precious (do you really need an MBA?) for a cook.
2 – Spouse: Whether Step 1 happens or not, gentle reader, you cannot go wrong if you find, and ensnare for yourself, that rare person – a spouse skilled in (all) matters concerning the kitchen. (After all is cleaning up even a marginally better task than making the mess in the first place? Me thinks not!) Forget charm and good looks, hunt instead for the person completely at home in an apron, ladle in one hand, scouring brush in the other. Pamper and treasure this person, and go down on your knees, at least twice a day, to thank God for your good fortune.
3 – Children: Train them well, dear reader. I hope for the sake of your delicately demanding tastebuds that you have succeeded in either Step 1, or 2, or both. If, sadly, you have not met with much success, you must whisper insidiously in your children’s ears until you have moulded their culinary desires to suit your own tastes and circumstances. If you train Bunty to be perfectly content with cheese sandwiches, and Babli to hanker after exotic foods that cannot be prepared at home (think sushi, think hilsa in mustard gravy, and authentic Italian pizza with paper thin crusts) you can get away with making quickly prepared comfort food everyday for one, and eat out often enough so the other is not ‘deprived.’
4 – Enthusiasm: Enthusiasm when backed with total indifference to the suffering you put your family’s taste buds to, my dear culinarily challenged reader, is the most powerful (and least talked about) weapon in your armoury; use it well. Build up a fabulous collection of cookbooks. Buy everything you see with brightly coloured pictures of impossibly delicious looking food. Stock-pile the shiniest (and most expensive) kitchen gadgets you can find. Plan menus well in advance and talk loud and long about the Kashmiri pulao, the Chettinad chicken, and the Malabar fish curry you are going to make.
After you forget (for the nth time) to adequately salt the chicken, and (accidentally on purpose) add a double dose of chilli peppers to the fish, your family will cringe at the mention of another lovingly prepared meal, and will instead think up creative solutions to keep you out of the kitchen.
5 – Friends: Shamelessly exploit the good heartedness of your friends! Dear reader, to succeed with this strategy, you must keep your eyes and ears open. Listen for the buzz on who makes the best sambar and who makes the best biryani (a body needs both, after all) Cultivate these rare souls well. Send them bouquets of exotic flowers on their birthdays, offer to baby sit their brats when they want a romantic evening out, sympathise with their saas-bahu problems. In short, do whatever it takes to get in their good books, on their party lists, and most importantly, to get a seat at their kitchen tables.
If all fails, and sometimes they all will, gentle reader, you simply will have to grit your teeth, and learn to make soup!
Here is a no-fuss recipe that works for me; well enough, I must say, that I am asked to make it more often than I really want to.
Soup – serves 4
- Knorr (or Maggi) soup – 1 pkt
(not the creamy or tomato variety – choose the hot and sour, veg/chicken noodle kind)
Instant noodles – I pkt (with the tastemaker)
Chopped vegetables (mushrooms, capsicum, carrots) – 1 handful
(if you can be bothered)
Throw all of these into the nearest vessel available, with about 1 litre water.
Add
Stir so that you don’t end up with a sticky mess. (Saying a prayer at this point won't hurt either!)
After 10 minutes, test to see noodles are done, throw in some chopped coriander leaves, and strain a well-beaten egg into the soup.
Take off the fire.
Voila, yummy veg/chicken noodle egg-drop soup done.
Enjoy!
