Today has been one of those days where something as simple as rice refused to cook to completion, inspite of of the pressure cooker letting go atleast 10 whistles, much to my exasperation.
I dont know if I have blogged about it before (too lazy to check) but am petrified of pressure cookers. Inspite of, now, using it everyday I panic at the first sign of errant steam. This is a phobia and has stemmed from a past misadventure. I retract into history once again with this post. But its modern history. An incident which happened to me 9 years back. My loyal readers would have guessed the importance of that timeline (pat on your backs, muaah). It was my first visit to the US. It was my first visit anywhere. Given the fact thay I was a naive young adult I fared rather well on that trip. One night I came home earlier than my roommates and started the process of makong dinner. At that time I couldnt call this process cooking. I had not much idea about what I had to do. I took realtime online coaching from *drum roll* T! The rasam was always tasty aftet my roomie re-engineered it. So coming back to that fateful night, following T's instructions to a T, I kept rice in the cooker. I was hanging around prepping for rasam. The cooker started to make unusual noises but I failed to recognise it because of my ignorance. I moved closer to the stove and BLAM the cooker lid burst open and sprung into the air. It narrowly missed hitting my face thanks to my reflexes (it only freezes when i drive). Only when my roomies came back did I come to know that I had been using a cooker with a faulty safety valve. I did not even know such a thing existed! Anyway that started me on my phobia of cookers. For the rest of that trip I made rice only by boiling. Back in India I stayed away from the blasted thing till I had to prove my mettle in my in-laws house. For the first few times I secretly called T to check that everything was in order mechanically and mathematically. I have also sms-ed him from kitchen to hall to keep my shortcoming discrete! I finally got used to the blasted thing as long as it was normal use. The first sign of trouble I still run to T. I refuse to understand the science behind pressure cookers but more than that I refuse to stand close to it when the stove is on. I dont think I will ever get over the fear.
Yesterday I asked V what she wants to be when she grows up. Imagine my horror when she said she wants to be a cooker! Thankfully she added that she wants to be a cooker and cook cookies.
I dont know if I have blogged about it before (too lazy to check) but am petrified of pressure cookers. Inspite of, now, using it everyday I panic at the first sign of errant steam. This is a phobia and has stemmed from a past misadventure. I retract into history once again with this post. But its modern history. An incident which happened to me 9 years back. My loyal readers would have guessed the importance of that timeline (pat on your backs, muaah). It was my first visit to the US. It was my first visit anywhere. Given the fact thay I was a naive young adult I fared rather well on that trip. One night I came home earlier than my roommates and started the process of makong dinner. At that time I couldnt call this process cooking. I had not much idea about what I had to do. I took realtime online coaching from *drum roll* T! The rasam was always tasty aftet my roomie re-engineered it. So coming back to that fateful night, following T's instructions to a T, I kept rice in the cooker. I was hanging around prepping for rasam. The cooker started to make unusual noises but I failed to recognise it because of my ignorance. I moved closer to the stove and BLAM the cooker lid burst open and sprung into the air. It narrowly missed hitting my face thanks to my reflexes (it only freezes when i drive). Only when my roomies came back did I come to know that I had been using a cooker with a faulty safety valve. I did not even know such a thing existed! Anyway that started me on my phobia of cookers. For the rest of that trip I made rice only by boiling. Back in India I stayed away from the blasted thing till I had to prove my mettle in my in-laws house. For the first few times I secretly called T to check that everything was in order mechanically and mathematically. I have also sms-ed him from kitchen to hall to keep my shortcoming discrete! I finally got used to the blasted thing as long as it was normal use. The first sign of trouble I still run to T. I refuse to understand the science behind pressure cookers but more than that I refuse to stand close to it when the stove is on. I dont think I will ever get over the fear.
Yesterday I asked V what she wants to be when she grows up. Imagine my horror when she said she wants to be a cooker! Thankfully she added that she wants to be a cooker and cook cookies.
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