Learning to Cook: Day 1

In recognition of my imminent entry into the real world of self-sustenance and no free lunches, I asked my grandmother to teach me how to cook, and she has taken me on as her project with a terrifying amount of enthusiasm. I really didn't imagine I'd be off to a running start, but my grandmother is nothing if not efficient, and I was inducted into kitchen duty my very first night home. The plan: my grandmother makes something and I observe, then I try to make it myself a few days later. It seemed like a good idea to get some blogging out of it, (given how unlikely it seems that I'll get any actual edible food out of it), and so here goes.

Today's menu was egg bhurji, aka scrambled eggs but with a tomato-onion-chili masala. In addition to my observer duties, I made myself proud by volunteering to crack the eggs. I tried my hand at two, and succeeded at one. I CAN CRACK EGGS WITH A 50% SUCCESS RATE YO! I then spent some time watching and pondering over the prettiness of the colours involved in food (red! yellow! white! green!), why there weren't more reported incidents of kitchen accidents (did you know chili seeds can fly into your face and blind you when you're trying to fry cut chili?), and how I'd never given a thought to how much salt I ate. 

I attempted to contribute again by trying to beat the eggs while my grandmother made the masala. I thought I did okay, but I feel like my grandmother may have disagreed, given how my efforts prompted her to discreetly turn the conversation to the availability of excellent mechanised egg beaters in the market.

I also tried to memorise the proportions of the ingredients involved (six eggs, one karchi chili, two of onions, and an indeterminate amount of tomato puree, jeera, chili powder, and olive oil) and thought that I could do at least passably well at a theoretical exam on cooking egg bhurji. That is, unless they asked me the proportions for making anything but a six-egg bhurji, in which case I'd likely fail because the normal rules of ratio and proportion don't seem to apply to food, and I've never even been able to wrap my head around regular math, let alone cooking math.

Dismal failure aside, it was a pretty great experience- I could feel the inner peace growing within me while stirring the food and watching it transform from ingredients into something which could be plated, and was slightly teary-eyed at the magic of cooking, so I definitely think I'll be trying this again. 

Bonus Learning Experience: Do not hug people when they're carrying giant vats of milk. 

Fin. 

~Sam