Project Dinner Impossibru

Sometimes I really worry about myself. Yesterday I was trying, fairly unsuccessfully, to bring a little order to the kitchen following the never-ending woodwork renovation and I discovered that I’m the proud owner of a brand new cookie sheet, pizza pan and pie plate and it’s the happiest I’ve known myself to be in a long time! I don’t know if I genuinely love cooking or am simply obsessed with food, but either way, I see a future with many chinned offspring and a husband too obese to love me like a man.

 A tiny voice in the back of my head is telling me to take a breather and de-addict myself from this nasty habit but this other thing in my head is holding a giant bullhorn and yelling “Keep going! Once mom gets back from her Europe trip, she’s gonna ban you from the kitchen anyway.” And then the tiny voice chimes in “But wait, she’ll be back with sooo much chocolate! You can’t let beautiful Swizz chocolate go to a waste like that, can you? You just GOTTA make chocolate chiffon pie when she gets back!”. And then the two voices bridge their differences, decide they have a lot of favourite food in common and hop along on a date leaving me alone, undisturbed and filled with more hunger for cooking, pardon the pun.

Until the detoxing begins, however, I have a rather crucial mission for tonight. Tonight is the Night Of Proving I Can Totally Own Dishes That Don’t Have Chocolate And Flour In Them to the world. Tonight I single-handedly whip up a dinner comprising of four different types of meat, dessert and the usual two paise type foods for a bunch of friend whose expectations I’ve been skyrocketing all week to make sure I don’t have to deal with leftovers later. Already I’m concerned that the menu is a tad bit over the top for a party of four confirmed and three potential guests but in all fairness, there were initially going to be five types of meat so I suppose this’ll have to do. Besides, my birds and animals are already pacing the fridge, well marinated, wondering when their time will come and it would be simply cruel to bring a sense of impending doom upon them and not justify it.

To balance out the preferences of the different palates that are going to be present tonight, I’ve come up with the perfect blend of cuisines and flavours to hopefully satiate everyone. The chicken wings will bring to the table hot and sweet Asian tang, the veal serves as a spicy Indian alternative, the fish cutlets reek of typical bland and deep friend America and the chicken bake will be my Italian warrior for the night, a well-packed blend of all these flavours and more. Also making an entrance for tonight’s show will be the meeker garlic bread, mashed potato, steamed veggies, fries and depending on the consistency of the bake, some plain pasta to cut the flavours a little. A pretty little cinnamon peach pie makes a grand finale out of the evening and we’re good to go.

For now I’m gonna get out of bed, start my day, buy some fresh fish and get up and about whipping up a storm. I hope my parents are fully justifying kidnapping my camera for said Europe trip because I know tonight would totally be worth freezing in time. A kitchen left to my mercy, loads of food to experiment with, an evening full of laughter and love shared with guinea pig friends; life just doesn’t get better than this.

Proof That God Loves Us

My daddy saves lives. There’s almost nothing in the world more beautiful than being able to say that; except maybe “My son saves lives.” I know wherever she is right now, my grandmother is a very proud woman. My father isn’t perfect, but in a world where we take every single thing for granted, he gives us reason to cherish every moment we’re graced with. My Abbu; it’s all in a day’s work for him; he saves lives. Wow.

Hulk Cookies

06.07.2012

12.20 p.m.

Ha ha ha! Guess who was on a suicide mission today! Twenty well planned and executed minutes paid off better than I thought! Say hello to the…..HULK COOKIES! The mean green calorie machines are finally here! And none of that eggless nonsense this time, no no. I gave our big friend the real deal.

 Ahh, God bless the Indian Railway system for being as tardy as it is; a train delayed by three hours is a true blessing to some of us.

With mom out of the house for a measly forty minutes, my time window to get things done and in order was uncomfortably small but I guess I’m pretty awesome that way.

• Word of advice though, when you’re planning to make ginormous sized cookies, give them enough place to spread out as they bake on the tray or you could end up with broken cookies that look like they’ve been bitten, well, by The Incredible Hulk.

•  Also, if it’s your first time working with food colouring, if the raw batter looks like the colour you want the end product to be, then you can afford to double the amount of colouring.

 
 For now, I’ll settle for unburnt yummy cookies the colour of a big green monster having a syncopal attack. 

The third batch is a charm after all.

Multitasking

05.07.2012

9.02pm

Today is a strangely satisfying day for me. I was pretty much sitting on the fence about whether or not to make a blog day out of it but I’ve just discovered that I’ve successfully bullied at least one person into following my blog on an acceptably regular basis so it’s only fair to give the people what they want. And no, the aforementioned person isn’t the single subscriber I’ve had for the past two and a half years. Although, come to think of it, my subscriber hasn’t really been following any of my recent posts and I’m only grateful for it considering the fact that she’s in the food business full time now and would send an army of cusses at me for the food disasters I’ve been brewing in my blissfully ignorant corner of the world.

I’ve been watching the same two episodes of Masterchef Australia for the past couple of days [probably the most amount of T.V. I’ve seen in months] and it has resulted in making me resolve two grand resolutions - I WILL successfully make Peter Gilmore’s 8 texture chocolate dessert at least once before I die and I will cook some elaborate seeming yet simple savoury dish before I leave for Pune tomorrow. And it has to be Italian; damn these Italians for making even their food so romantic that it doesn’t take long for the spices to woo you and make your heart and yearn for them.

Oh and before that, I decided to make some dessert of some sort for the trip considering my entire family was going and some of those old uncles and aunties are pretty heavy on the appraisal front; one always loves to get complimented, yes?

Cheesecake was completely out of the question; for one my family sure wasn’t helping me finish the previous batches [which ended up in me making milkshake out of the leftovers just this morning], and for another, train journeys don’t go down too well with dairy products. I had almost decided that The Hulk Cake was going to be The Chosen One for the week but ended up being too lazy to go buy disposable boxes to pack it in.

Which brings me to my final settlement *drumroll please* - COOKIES! Simple, sophisticated, a snack with a wide variety of flavours to choose from and toppings to attract; but more on that later.

I needed to get dinner out of the way first. As we speak, the luxurious flavours of tomatoes, honey, apples and Italian spices are dancing their way into the chicken’s heart, serenading it with every passing moment, many becoming one. Also, it doesn’t hurt that I added enough ajinomoto to give a horse stage IV cancer since I was running low on marination time. It’s almost time to test it’s mettle in the fire now.

11:43 p.m.

I just realized I had another batch of cookie batter to mix in before I could do much else so I had to run. So anyway, after browsing through thirty odd cookie recipes, eliminating each one on the basis of preparation time, ingredients available ready at hand, aunties’ and uncles’ allergies considerations and just plain moodiness, I narrowed it down to eggless spiced cookies and eggless oatmeal chocolate chip nut cookies [wherein egg is substituted with cornstarch].

• Apparently they don’t ask you to use brown sugar because it feels exotic, it’s finer too; which of course I didn’t learn till after the first cookie batter batch.

The oatmeal batch was a lot more fun to make, although I must admit it looks more like trail mix than cookie batter and is probably going to be my undoing this evening. The best part, however, was toasting the walnuts and chopping the chocolate into fine little chips; there’s just something about the woodiness of walnuts coupled with a whole naked giant slab of chocolate that has this ridiculous tendency to turn you on.

*****

So far I have burnt one batch of each flavour once, undercooked one batch and tasted none.

On the upside, however, the chicken turned out to be pure genius - tender and succulent, heavy with buttery flavours and simply satisfying to the palette. The apples and tomatoes were reduced beautifully, but not before imparting their freshness to the meat. The only thing that could’ve made it a shade more enjoyable is longer fridge marinating time; I guess the flavours couldn’t get the inside of the chicken to dance with them as merrily as the outside.

All aspects considered, I’d give it a 9.2/10.

The cookie suspense is killing me though. Argh!

06.07.2012

12:23 a.m.

Make that two burnt sets of oatmeal. I haven’t even started packing yet!

1:34 a.m.

Mixed emotions but one firm decision – no more cooking alternatives! If it says egg, I’m going to beat that egg and pour it in; if it says double cream, screw the fat and into the bowl with you! All these silly substitutes are seriously beginning to cramp my style. If egg allergy aunty can’t eat a cookie, well that’s just too bad; she was probably diabetic anyway. If diet uncle can’t eat some frosting, it’s just more cake for the rest of us carefree folk! No wonder the little white kids get their little Christmas tree cookies right at the age of five; they’re unapologetically omnivorous and willing to shell out a few extra dollars from their piggy banks even if it means they get some obesity into their systems.

Having said that, I’d rate the cookies a 6/10. Good flavour, decent texture but I think I prefer mine a little less burnt.

The list of things I want to perfect this summer gets longer everyday but I’m running out of throats to shove my experiments down and willing parents to buy me more ingredients; it’s a pity that true genius is never acknowledged in its own time. In the meantime, while I whine and sulk, a Swiss roll cake is next on the agenda and hopefully a fully functional farmhouse design before that. And an adequately packed suitcase for tomorrow before all else!

Attempt Two

27.06.2012

9:13 p.m.

Well, attempt two felt marginally better than yesterday. It took me about an hour and a half to put everything together, although I must add that though I had hung curd ready at hand, I made the whipped cream from scratch [clearly, trusting the packaged one from godknowswhen wasn’t the brightest thing to do]. This time I went in for an Irish Coffee and Cream Cheesecake minus the Irish bit. The digestive biscuit crust came out pretty well; I only wish I hadn’t left in the oven after it was well done. Slightly charred crust aside, the customary post-procedure licking of the batter bowl turned out to be a slightly disheartening discovery of the fact that everything was a little too sour despite my almost doubling the sugar indicated in the recipe to compensate for the tanginess of the curd. Morning should hopefully bring palatable results.

• ·         Never have a friend around, especially in the initial stages where you’re trying to gather all your ingredients together; you’ll only end up reading the recipe over and over again and not remember a single word by the time you get to the fridge door.
• ·         Also, you can completely forget about the whole recording-things-as-you-make-them-happen thing when the aforementioned friend is around and your background soundtrack consists of continuous comments about your first attempt at le cheesecake.
• ·         If you’re into the whole health thing [which in all likelihood, you aren’t. I mean come on, are you trying to torture yourself reading about a cheesecake when you’re on that diet?], in the world of cheesecakes, relativity is everything. Granted there’s no such thing as a healthy cheesecake, but you can’t ignore the fact that a hung curd cake is less artery and bowel clogging than the cream cheese variant.
• ·          Also, homemade whipped cream cuts the unnecessary preservatives out of the equation.
• ·         Most importantly, the kitchen-minus-cats rule applies for the egg beating and cream whipping as well.

28.06.2012
9:16 a.m.
You’d think the second attempt would give better results than the first but I suppose that’s why they call it beginner’s luck. The little readjustment of the quantity of gelatin turned out to be miscalculated a tad bit and my poor little cake’s spine buckled painfully as soon as the springform was removed. However, the amount of tanginess was exponentially reduced in this batch and the coffee brought with it a whiff of refreshing pre-taste smell.

• ·         Using a knife to loosen the cake from its mould works way better than a metal spatula, particularly when the crust is made out of crackers/digestive biscuits.

9:46 p.m.
Talk about varying opinions! According to [fairly] reliable sources, this cake was way too tangy and made the first one seem better in comparison. Personally, I’m still unable to get my taste buds to recognize this infamous sourness and neither is le mother. It must be some sort of wrong genetic wiring or something.

Well, I finished too solid and too liquid; tangy and too tangy and my inner Goldilocks is praying the next one is just right. However, The Perfect One is going to have to wait at least a week to materialize because I’m beginning to get these uncomfortably strong vibes that suggest my near and dear ones are soon going to burn me at a stake if I stuff anymore cheesecake down their throats. Coming in the near future, though, The Hulk Cake!

Apparently This Is Called Actual Blogging

26.06.2012

2:02 p.m.

The beginning of summer holidays always brings with it a million possibilities, most if which you spent cooking up when you were supposed to be concentrating on the following day’s exam, and this summer, monsoon rather, is pretty much that. Clichéd as it may be on a multitude of levels, I decided to combine two of my passions together and make a self-proclaimed productive vacation out of it .

After a fortnight of trying to find the right recipes, the right equipment, the muslin cloth and what not, today I finally decide to master the art of making the perfect cheesecake. To all my out-of-India living counterparts, yes, this is a big deal as I have to substitute half the regular ingredients with makeshift Indian equivalents and make do with D-I-Y homemaker recipes off the worldwide web and this could very well be an incredible disaster that I get yelled at for when le mother gets home from work this evening.

I start with buying a whole lot of yoghurt that is to be hung in the ever evasive muslin cloth [read, really thin cotton fabric that I settled for when the whole muslin and cheesecloth deal didn’t work]. So here goes nothing.

2:24 p.m.

The deed has been done, the curd has been hung.

Things I have learnt in the past 22 minutes:

• ·         It’s probably smarter to shoo all the cats out of the kitchen before you open any yoghurt tubs.
• ·         If you squeeze the whole thing a little before tying up the cloth, it probably speeds up the draining process. [I’ll know for sure in a few hours.]
• ·         Hanging the cloth bag from somewhere works better than letting it rest in a big sieve as suggested by the original recipe I looked up online. Again, I emphasize the importance of getting rid of the cats before you hang anything anywhere.
• ·         The little contraption you made out of heroically balanced yoghurt tubs and vessels to catch the dripping whey that you were so proud of will most probably slip out of place under the increasing weight of the liquid by the time you’re done typing out a couple hundred words and may need readjusting every few minutes if not permanently corrected.

9:00 p.m.

The curd is as hung as it can get on its own. I’ll give it a final squeeze before working with it. Tooo the kitchen!

• ·         It will do you a lot of good to look up cooking measurement conversions online especially if you’re using mixed recipes. Apparently one envelope of gelatin doesn’t translate to one entire 50g packet of gelatin. Who knew!

10:07 p.m.

Well, the cream cheese mixture is in the fridge, thickening. The whipped cream is ready to be folded in [I must mention, however, that I’m doubting it’s integrity as I forgot to check the expiry date on the cover before whipping it]. Although the cookies and cream recipe I’m using doesn’t require the crust to be baked, I’m popping it into the oven for a few as it seems a little questionably buttery.

• ·         Crush the cookies by hand or a potato masher before you stuff them in a mixer with the butter and expect them to be turned into the delightfully crumbly crust mix. Unless you like your mixer jammed, that is.
• ·         Even after following the above step, your crust mix may not necessarily have the exact crumble delightfulness level as you pictured in your head.

10:14 p.m.

Okay so the crust was bubbling when I took it out of the oven; looks like the whipped cream isn’t the only thing around me that has a questionable integrity at the moment. Then again, one can hope for happy accidents. I believe the cream cheese has “thickened not set” by now and it’s time to open the fridge.

10:37 p.m.

Everything has been mixed, folded, poured, sprinkled, layered, decorated and put in the fridge to be set as instructed [more or less]. One can just wait now and hope for the best.

• ·         You might want to make sure your pan is actually 9” in diameter and not 12” beforehand.
• ·         You might also want to inform your family members that you’re blogging and not checking mail every few minutes, especially when your mom has almost zero tolerance towards using the internet when family’s around and expects you to help around the kitchen in the breaks.
• ·         On a slightly different note, the curd bag squeezing thing mentioned earlier that was hoped to help speed the wheying out process was fairly effective. I’m told that this usually requires overnight draining otherwise. Oh and hung curd looks pretty cool when you open out the cloth. I’ve put the leftover bit in an airtight box and into the fridge for tomorrow’s attempt in case of today’s failure.

27.06.2012

9:41 a.m.

The cake has been sprung in one piece. Baking the crust made it hold really well though it was a bit of a feat getting it to unhold the springform tray itself. The bits of cake stuck to the side of the tray tasted fairly edible, albeit a little sour, and though I was aiming more for the sickeningly sweet cookies and cream heaven, let’s pretend I intended to make the traditional sourish version anyway.

10:25 a.m.

Verdict:

Tastewise, I’m fairly satisfied. It turned out sweet with a slight tang at the end. Texture, however needs some work. Either the gelatin was too much or the whipped cream was too old, so it was leaning towards the heavy side and a little flat. A few more cookies in the middle couldn’t hurt either. I must however mention that it was extremely satisfying cutting that little triangular slice out and see it resemble the picture in the recipe book almost perfectly.

Overall, I’d give it a 7.8/10.

Attempt two shall follow later today, mainly because I want to use up the hung curd before it spoils. More cake disasters coming soon!

Trying To Wake Up Again

Yes, I'm an utterly useless "blogger" who's probably better off taking this page down for the good of all mankind, but this is one last ditch attempt to get back to my scene. As is the law of the Universe, things most forbidden to you gleam tauntingly in your eyes the second you know you shouldn't go anywhere near them. So as I sit smugly at my laptop with a neck brace to support my ridiculous early onset spondylosis spine, I not-so-secretly hope that being discouraged from writing is going to push me in exactly that direction.


Either way, if all else fails, I'm just gonna take Dev's advice and blog about video games and bikes. =P

The following piece is something I'm still not quite sure about whether or not I'm proud of, but it's the only thing I've written in months so I'm going to have to settle with it for the moment. This was for the creative writing competition held by Reva Institute of Technology as part of the their techno-cultural fest "Revamp" in April 2012. We were given a picture that looked more or less like the one below and asked to go crazy; no word limit, no genre ,an hour to boot. So here goes nothing. =]

For years I've waited, for months I've yearned;

Trampled upon by multitudes, knowing no better world.

Seasons came and seasons went, yet nothing changed.

Lost hope my only companion; waiting, waiting.

But when the rain graced us, the aroma of a rich promised life burned within me like incense.

*****

I have travelled far and wide, seen more pleasures than were to be mine.

Turmoil has come and turmoil has gone, and yet nothing's changed.

I yearn for that day when I settle down, she will be my saving grace:

She'll pull me out of my own chasms, she'll get me out of my mess.

And with a fire, I'll make her mine; till she comes, I'll wait in pain.

*****

He came by foot one autumn day, that noon burns bright in my mind.

With the most weathered face, I knew he'd change forever my life;

My heart nearly broke when I saw him turn away with barely a glance;

But when he turned towards my face, it leapt with hope again.

And thought to him I was second best, it didn't matter, I loved him, the rest could wait.

*****

I have lost all hope, she's not coming to me,

Not today, not tomorrow, simply never.

Who'll save me now, who'll be my grace?

I think it's time to call it a day.

*****

Seasons came and seasons went, and yet nothing's changed.

I no longer lie trampled on the ground,

But neglect has shattered what was left of me.

He loves me no more, never has, I meant nothing to him ever.

And now hes forgotten all about me, and I lie in wait of the End.

*****

Not just hope but everything I've had, is now completely gone.

I'll live the rest of my days in debt and starve all night long.

Maybe now is the time to turn to the dirt I rejected years ago.

If nothing comes out of it, at least I can bury myself.

*****

A light suddenly shone upon my eyes, made me blink in confusion.

Could it be he remembered me after all this time?

Or is he simply going to throw me out?

And sudden;y his callused hands held me, his eyes showed he'd seen terrible days.

The sudden burst of warmth stunned my mind, and I knew no bliss like this.

He caressed me with a tenderness, I could not believe was true.

He quenched my rain-yearning heart's thirst with gentle drops,

He eased away the stiffness, he eased away my pain.

Life surged through me, electrifying the air with radiant hope,

And when I looked into his eyes, I knew he felt the same.

That night was passionate and magical and the most alive both of us felt.

We danced for hours, caressing each other with love,

Our bodies becoming one:

And when morning came we both sighed in contentment, we knew our time had come.

The warm bright sun was harsh no more and covered me in a blanket of joy.

By afternoon my heart was sad, for it would soon be time for goodbye.

Ans as I sat out in the yard, I saw him look at me.

Mingled emotions of satisfaction, hope and bittersweet pain flitted across his face,

But the smile of gratitude on his lips washed all my sorrows away.

*****

For years I've waited, for months I've yearned;

Trampled upon by multitudes, I now know a better world.

Seasons came and seasons went, and everything has changed.

I sit in my new royal home and think of that magical night;

The night my maker caressed me tenderly and we made love of a different kind.

I can never accept how some lowly clay saved a beautiful man like him,

I hope he knows how much I loved him, and how it pained me when the King took me away.

It kills me inside when thoughts of him starving come across my mind.

But when the rain graces us, the aroma of tomorrow's promises burns in me like incense again.

*****

Well that was that. I'll hopefully be back soon enough to reclaim my status and call myself a legit writer with a couple morsels worth of dignity. Hopefully.