Mise En Place - Everything In Its Place

I am a woman. I grew up in India. And when you put both these words in the context of Indian culture, the equation is Woman + Indian = Cooking. As a girl, society expects you to learn cooking by the time you are of age so that when the time comes to find a groom, this qualification is complete. Cooking is a must-have criterion for marriage eligibility. Indian moms feel they have done right if their daughter can cook a full Indian dinner by the time she is sixteen. To quantify this, let me present you the number of rotis (the equivalent of naan) that my mom made in her life for my family. Ten rotis every day for four people for 40 years on average comes to 584,000 - and this is a conservative estimate.

My childhood was no different - except that I was a rebel, so I did everything in my power to thwart my mom's plans to teach me cooking. I read story books lying on the couch by the dozen, ignoring the mutters about what a good for nothing wife I will make, how my refusal to learn cooking will lower my mom's standing in society, etc. All my parent's pleading and threats fell on deaf ears because I had no interest in marriage and hence no interest in cooking. I even became a star student as I studied to avoid kitchen chores. At family functions, all my relatives were shocked that I did not even know how to make tea which even an Indian male could accomplish. I wore these taunts as a badge of honour and secretly congratulated myself on my cooking avoidance skills.

Fast forward to my marriage. I found myself an American guy, Adam and ended up having a love marriage instead of an arranged marriage. I remember telling Adam very seriously that I do not know cooking. And his response was an equally casual, 'OK - why are you telling me this?' I remember feeling very lucky that American husbands have a very different set of expectations from their wives when it comes to cooking. For my parents, it changed their world of what was possible. I remember telling them that I was going over to my friend's for a weekend, and their first question was, 'What would Adam eat?'. For them, the concept that the husband can cook for himself was so foreign that for the longest time, they believed that I was neglecting my wifely duties. I suspect they still harbour that belief somewhere in their subconscious.

After marriage, a subtle change that changed my life was the lack of expectation from me to cook. For the first time in my life, nobody was forcing me to learn cooking. And with that came the freedom to cook, and unknown to myself, I started cooking and exploring. I started with copying my friend's recipes and then graduated to internet recipes. The next milestone was becoming a vegan. I even took my first official cooking course with forks over knives. And with time and experience, I started making my recipes. I could mix and match the eastern and western ways of cooking to create something unique. It was organic growth, and before I knew it, I had a collection of cooking tips. Add taro powder to increase the thickness of the sauce. Add ground cashews for creaminess. Add Zucchini in the last three minutes of cooking. And when my parents came over last year, they were pleasantly surprised with the new delicious dishes I made. My pantry has all sorts of spices and powders, from cinnamon to anise, garam masala to cajun seasoning, white peppers to black cardamoms. My kitchen has all the equipment you can think of - Air Fryer, Slow Cooker, Blender, Grinder, Juicer, Grater, Spiralizer and even a pair of scissors for herbs. I even own an almond cow to make dairy milk alternative.

Special mention of the scissors - I use a lot of mint, cilantro and parsley for garnishing. For the longest time, I used knives and then scrape them off the cutting board until I got a pair of kitchen scissors as a Christmas gift, and now I cut them into small pieces straight into the dish without any mushing or scraping. I use them to cut green beans, green onions, kale, spinach, asparagus as well. In essence, I scissor everything that can be scissored.

Cooking for me has been like peeling back the layers of onion literally. What started as a simple exploration has turned into a haven of me-time with peace and tranquillity. Sunday morning, when the outside world is still sleeping, my kitchen is filled with smells, flavours, a medley of vegetables and spices.

I look forward to the zen state that comes with cooking. I create something that did not exist before - the very definition of creativity. It is a perfect blend of play and joy that brings life to the child and adult in me. And with this realization comes the understanding that such is life. What I make of the ingredients that life provides is up to me. I create each and every moment just like the food I eat and share with others.