the wonderful world of veena.

13 July 2011

first cooking lesson with the big b.

Tonight I had my first proper cooking lesson with my mother. I have been helping her in the kitchen for as long as I can remember, but I had never before cooked an entire meal for the four of us. I figured since I'm moving in a few weeks and will mostly be responsible for my own meals, now is as good a time as any to learn.

My mother and I decided I would learn "mommy mush" - a dish so named by Maggie Goodman because, well, it looks like a big pile of mush once it's all finished. We bought everything we needed yesterday, and today we went into the lesson with only one rule, imposed by me: my mother was only allowed to supervise. I realised that if it was just me helping and her doing everything - as it has been all these years - I would never properly learn.

First order of business? Well, my mother was taking a much-deserved mini nap on the couch, so I gave her an extra few minutes, gathered all the ingredients, and sliced my thumb on one of the can lids in the process. Typical walking disaster. But my mother says it's a sign of a good cook, and you should never argue with mother.

Then came the chopping of stuff. This is something I have a lot of experience in, and I say I did a pretty decent job. Judge for yourselves:

Come on, you couldn't expect me to not go crazy with the chillies. Who do you take me for? While all this was happening, the meat was browning and the rice was cooking, so once that was finished, I browned some onions and then tossed everything into the pot. This is what it looked like before I added the cheese:

Now, I forgot to get a picture of the final product, but just picture this with a whole load of melted Velveeta cheese, and you get the idea.

Overall, everything went smoothly. My father approved, and I got a double stamp of approval from the brother. And my mother loved it. Which is more than enough for me.

So concludes our first cooking lesson. Here's hoping we can squeeze a few more in before I move.

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