Trying to figure out what would grace my long oval teak wood dining table, drains my energy like water from a sponge...
Menu a four-letter word. It has always puzzled and troubled me. My mind becomes perplexed deciding what to serve on the platter. With my parents, this hard job was assigned solely to my mother, who was efficiently managing, home, us and her noble job as a teacher and later lecturer.
After tying the knot, the gruesome task of having preparation done for three special meals along with healthy nibbles to fill in the cracks landed on my shoulders. The challenge grew as children came into my life. Indian, Italian, Chinese, Continental, what to serve? English breakfast proved to be a delight for me, with sprouts, milk, yoghurt, juice, cereal, multigrain bread, muesli and fruits. The best part of being no cooking from my side.
I understand the love and compassion of the progenitors who wake up early morning, to cook chapati and curry for breakfast along with dabbas for the man of the house and kids, every single day. Complimented by the mammoth task of cooking for lunch and supper. To unburden my load of chalking out a menu, I offered my kids to be the head of the house and prepare a menu of what they would like to have for their dinner. They turned out quite clever and with a kiss on my cheeks said,” We love whatever you choose”. I fell into the pit again. No rescue! The brainstorming persisted.
I struggled hard to balance healthy meals with fruits and nuts. I was trying desperately to be a dietitian and nutritionist without a degree. My masters in chemistry and bachelor in education proved worth nothing. I became a planet revolving around a menu without a pause. Tilting on my axis balancing my temper and temperament. Though on this route, I have learnt the art of baking, steaming, grilling and cooking. I understood the beautiful intricacy that is cooking. The spirit of cooking now runs in my veins and thoughts. With a masters in mothering, I have become adept at balancing both worlds.
Whenever we venture out to explore restaurants, cafes and hotels, I skillfully slip the menu towards my fussy eaters. I smile, enjoy and observe them turning pages of the menu, from Indian, Chinese, Continental and a myriad of options in between; back and forth. I feel relaxed and relieved as I set back and take in the ambience of the place casually glancing around.
4 comments
A time to be remembered,
ReplyDeleteWhen Mother cooked sublime!
Embroidered picture of "MENU".
Thank you so much.
DeleteWoww .. beautifully presented the plight of every mother..i am flattered....love you u my sis
ReplyDeleteFlavours of life is incomplete without menu.
Delete