Things about VC that I never want to forget #3
VC can make a mean dosa
We’re both foodies. To the core. And if we didn’t share this one big love, I don’t think our relationship would be what it is. It is only in the years that we moved out and set up home on our own, that I ventured into the kitchen and figured that I actually like to cook, as much as I like to eat. Yep, I didn’t imagine that the act of preparation and putting together of meals can be as much, if not more, fun as just stuffing face when a plate is presented before me.
But this isn’t about me. Its about VC, the patient, ever-willing guinea pig. The brave, encouraging partner to all my culinary exploits. The tolerant north Indian who willingly ODs on rice with his rice-obsessed south Indian wife. Previously oblivious to the wonders of vegetables, today he’s learned to enjoy eating unimaginable things like cauliflower, cabbage, bhindi, even. And ZOMG, baingan! Who would have thought there was a world beyond aloo, mushroom and babycorn?
Enough husband-bashing I say. Because these north Indian-south Indian differences are non-existent in life. They just conveniently crop up when I want to poke fun at him and his eating habits, which as far as I’m concerned were hitherto strange. They’re handy when it comes to mocking that. But it ends there. Right when he enters the kitchen and does something weird, like this:
That right there is where my self-righteous south Indian self is humbled.
The man, he makes a mean dosa. And for being ever willing to make me a crisp ghee dosa like that, I am willing to forgive all differences. Obvious, apparent, big, small, imagined, or otherwise.
For those of you about to get secular on me for pulling the north-south card, look here to see things about VC I don’t want to forget #s 1 and 2.