Cooking Carries Away All My Senses

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     I regret many times I criticized my mother for the dishes she served.The list of reasons goes like- too hot and spicy,same dish for today also, not ready yet, no sugar, smell fishy or cockroach(our kitchen was cockroach ridden and we didn't have airtight storage or refrigerator on those good old days) and even taste spoiled if reheated.Now I realize the effort that goes into making food and the fact that she did the dishes,washed my cloths and made my bed all alone for not I paid her but out of pure selfless love.My wife is lucky for we started living together after this realization.
     Recently I was thinking that no other job but  cooking requires the vigilant service of our all five senses.As we proceed , we need to touch to see the texture and consistency, look to see the color change, wait for the aromatic smell, sharpen our ears for a number of sounds like that of boiling , breaking, whistling,crispy-bake and we need to sprinkle  tasting  at every stage before a  final tasting.It is a kind of licence test. Ok to serve but add a pinch of salt more.     It is from our small kitchen in room number 312 ,first floor, Qasar Thoufeeque, Abha, Saudi Arabia. Busy preparing stuffs for a salad that is my contribution for a  potpourri party.I take my hat off to Mr. Jineesh who baptized me into cooking while we were sharing the dorm during my teacher training days.He taught me how to make 'Upmavu' and I became a fish curry specialist towards the end of the year among five of us(so I continue to believe).

Comments

  1. ErichMarch 4, 2014 at 6:23 AM

    You're right - if you've never done any housework (including cooking) you have absolutely no idea of the work it entails. You also have no idea of the pleasure it can bring - all of it, not only cooking. My mom was a typical mom in the sense that she clothed and fed us in a very caring and loving way. One of the things she loved doing was making her own jams. The jars accumulated over the years because she produced the jams faster than we could consume them. After she died I gave all the labor of her hands away but only to people who I knew would appreciate it. It was quite heartbreaking because it felt like I still had a tangible link with her while I had the food she had made. But it was the sensible and right thing to do (at least for me).

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