A high spirited, chirpy new friend of mine tagged me quite some time back.
Quoting the clichéd ‘better late than never’, here is the list of my domestic horrors:
I am this just-married brand new bride who does not know the in-law’s language and hence communicates with them mostly in English or sign language. It is only a couple of days with the in-laws and the MIL switches over from English to her native language (Tamil) without any warning! I smile or nod stupidly at everything she says, with no clue about the meaning whatsoever 😉
One fine morning I am seated in the living room with the newspaper when MIL walks by saying something in Tamil. I nod with a smile, as usual, before getting back to the newspaper.
In a few minutes, I smell something burning. But, I had no reason to worry – MIL was in charge of the kitchen anyway, I thought. The smell just kept getting worse and I opened the windows and doors to drive it out. Finally, when there was no sign of the stink subsiding, I entered the kitchen to find NOBODY there, but a vessel full of milk boiling and spilling out into the flames !!
Apparently, the MIL had told me in her PUREST form of Tamil that she was going out for a while and there is milk boiling on the stove. Bah! I was embarrassed to bits when FIL and my other half laughed hard at my horror stricken face.
But, heaven knows I wanted to shout at the MIL and say- “You could have cut some slack and told it in English for this poor Non-Tamil soul here, no??!”
Me and H moved into our first little rented house in Bangalore a little after the wedding and set up a ‘home’ together. After recovering from the initial shock to learn that I am in charge of the kitchen all by myself with no help, I got to serious business. From cooking rice to making sambhar and curry – H yielded ( had no other way, I guess) to be the guinea pig for my culinary experiments 😉 Some misses and some hits, but I grew more confident by the day.
One morning, when H was away in office, I was frying some veggies but got distracted and went away to the other room, only to come back and find all my hard work turned to black charcoal in the pan.I couldn’t take that kind of insult on my attempts (ahem), picked up the purse and walked out to a nearest restaurant.
I came back home with a big styrofoam box full of hot spicy curry, nicely transferred it into a fresh vessel, stirred it with a spoon and covered with a lid. H came home for lunch those days because I was not yet working then. Plus, he loved the yummy home made food his new wife made ( or so I like to believe). No doubt, the ‘special curry’ received much compliments and I was praised to no end…he thought I had finally got there! ( where?)
Only a couple of years later, when I had indeed mastered most of his favorite dishes did I let him into the truth of the special curry he enjoyed so much one day and wondered why I did not make it that way ever again ! 😀
I was working on a project assignment and moved to the US for the first time, alone. I was put up in a company provided fully furnished apartment. It had a beautiful kitchen with all amenities – Fridge and Oven to vessels and spoons, you name it. I mostly cooked, but ordered in on lazy days. The leftover pizza that I ordered on one of those days was packed in a silver foil and kept aside for dinner. At night, I promptly picked it up , with the silver foil et all , put it in the microwave and pressed ‘Start’.
It took only a few seconds before fumes started emerging out wickedly. I was too nervous to even get closer and switch off. But, thankfully, it switched off on its own soon… after a loud explosion creating a big hole on the microwave door 😀
My company was too kind and paid the damage costs while the apartment people left me with a warning only.Why? Maybe because the whole thing did not involve a fire engine and police knocking on their doors. Hehehe.
Cannot think of any major horror story since then. Oh, that translates to “I have now become so much responsible and cautious and superb at all I do in the kitchen ..I am simply – awesomely – fantastically GREAT!”
Ok, not exactly that..but something like that 😛
What’s your part of the horror story?