My Dad loves to cook. He finds it relaxing.
So does Mum & me. Yes, we find it relaxing that he loves to cook.
What is even better is that he likes to be left alone in the kitchen when cooking.
He firmly believes that all the extra hands will curdle the broth.
I love this principle. So does Mum. This is also one of his principles we both find extremely relaxing.
No following recipe books is another principle. Pause. This is where it gets dicey.
Flashback, rewind to years ago.
Dad decided to step into danger zone.
The pride of Bengalis. The formidable Roshogolla.
Commonly known as Rasgulla. Dumplings in sugar syrup. Google it.
He dared to take it on. A Malayalee at that.
Without following a recipe. Just fired by an imaginative mind.
Next morning, Mum wakes my brother with these sweet words –
“Monay (son, in Malayalam), DRINK Rasgulla!!”
Brother – “Whaaaat, huh?”
For this one daring adventure of Dad’s which failed to solidify…many others made it.
Earning him the title of Master Chef. In his own home.