It might be that time of year again, Mi. Yes, i started my annual cold. Of course I am determined, for the safety of all concerned, to quell it before it builds up into a full blown whatever it has in mind. In the meantime, […]
Memories from another day . . .
When I sit back and reflect, I can’t help smiling at the crazy things that gnaw at our minds, Mi. For example, remember that time when I wondered if the aluminum idli plates would look odd if I took them along with me after I got married? Then you countered how weird it would be when I picked out the mustard seeds methodically, one by one, while eating rasam rice.
We really are the sorts who worry when there’s mayhem in a movie, cutlery is thrown around, and characters are busy fighting and there’s a solid mess a mess . . . who will clear it? What about the glass of tea or coffee that gets thrown?
What about the dupatta/scarf that’s flung off in joy? Or the coat that’s taken off and left on a bench? Who goes back and retrieves it?
What about that milk on the stove that spills over or other food stuff thrown around? Worst is broken glass! Sigh.
Then, there’s all the fighting and bruising. I wonder how, when one punch hurts so much, how people who keep on receiving blows and cuts and are shot continue to spring back up and fight. Especially when they’re give one solid blow over the head with a log of wood. Blood flows and yet they get back up and keep going.
But don’t think I live with those old worries. I’ve got several new ones now. Who can say I am not creative? So yeah, every time we travel I worry about the fridge. Remember how it conked off just a week before the warranty was up? We freaked out over finding the service guys to come and fix the compressor. So…not entirely baseless then, that the day I returned, I discovered the freezer wasn’t cooling. I was going to make peas rice and was bracing myself to pull out the frozen packet. So imagine my shock when my hand grabbed something really limp. Gosh, I freaked out! Then I took deep breaths, finished cooking and then looked for the phone number that, through pure serendipity, landed on my phone via sms. Called the guy and by end of day, got it fixed. Cost a cozy 4K. So grateful we actually got someone to attend to it.
And thus the week begins!
So last night, very cleverly I stacked the pressure cooker, feeling very proud of myself for deciding on dinner in my head while walking, Mi!
Fifteen minutes later not a peep from the cooker! Also, a strange smell. Of course we assumed it was not our kitchen. Then anyway, seconds later I thought I’d check and imagine my surprise to see fumes coming from around the handle of the cooker! Gosh. And when I touched the weight, no hissing! I quickly turned off the stove. And waited.
Then of course we had a small conference in the kitchen, contemplating over the next step. I absolutely forbade everyone to touch the cooker. Simply because I recalled how, years ago, we had attempted to open the cooker and the next thing we knew was….
rice rice everywhere and all the walls did stink!
rice rice everywhere and nary a thought to think!
Yeah okay … and I remembered how chunks had stuck to the ceiling and the walls and practically every possible surface and utensil. And there 9-year-old Vidur was, impatiently waiting to leave for school, pacing the living room. And you, you were so worked up about it until I thrust a cup of coffee in your hand and ordered you to sit in your chair until I came back from dropping off Vidur, so we could tackle the mess together. We made such lame jokes over that!
Gosh. As an aside, a few years ago, someone visited and wanted to know what happened to the kitchen ceiling when she saw the wipe marks.
So anyway–we decided to wait ten minutes. Then I opened the cooker. The water in it had evaporated and hence the fumes. Turned out the gasket was loose. So no pressure. So water evaporated.
What about dinner? I had kept kabuli chana, rice and aalu. All had perfectly cooked. Go figure!
Anyway, we enjoyed our dinner.
Yesterday I made chhole puri.
Today I made dum aloo.
So …. all is well that ends well, it seems.
Funny no? I didn’t even stress over it. My only worry was opening the cooker too soon because–ugh–cleaning up would be horrendous.
Okay, I am going for a walk.