As I mentioned in my
earlier post, Maria has divided her book, ‘From My Kitchen to Yours’ into monthly
menus with soups, salads, starters, non-vegetarian and vegetarian main course
dishes, and desserts.
I honestly can’t
cook a full course meal together. And even if I were a pro cook, it would have
been a difficult commitment. Hence, I’ve decided to go slow and steady with one
recipe at one time. (Plus, I really want to savour this project.)
So, the moment the
book was delivered, I excitedly opened it to check out what’s in store for me. They
say, never judge a book by its cover. But let me tell you, I fell in love with
the book instantaneously looking at the cover. The photography, the colours,
the typeface, the illustrations, everything in the book looks oh-so-yummy. I
bet you’d love it too. I need not describe what’s there on the cover, you can
always Google it. I know, you guys are smart. So, moving on.
Deciding to read the
preface and the introduction later, I eagerly flipped through the pages and
reached the recipe section. Only to be taken aback.
‘PALAK SOUP’, it
read.
I was heartbroken to
see a spinach soup recipe. I don’t want to learn how to make a spinach soup!
Who on earth wants to learn how to make a spinach soup?
Oh, no, no! Don’t
get me wrong. I’m not at all a fussy eater. But come on, who begins such a fun
project with a recipe as unsavoury as palak soup.
I somehow managed to
cheer myself up and get ready to deal with a wicked bunch of spinach leaves.
Mother dearest, who
trusts her daughter’s culinary skills like no other mother on this planet,
warned me not to use the entire bunch and waste the whole thing. Wastage of
food is not encouraged in our home, you see. I tried to explain her how
changing the measures will make the whole recipe go for a toss. But she didn’t budge.
And I was in the soup.
So, totally
depending on my primary-level math skills, I noted down all the ingredients
with revised measures, and finally managed to start the process.
The veggies started
boiling. Forget about matching the colour of the concoction with that picture
in the book, it was not even close to green. However, like a brave soldier fighting
a lost battle, I continued doing what the book instructed to do with 100% faith
in Maria and zero in myself.
And my faith did not
fail me. Somewhere in between taking the puree out from the mixer and adding
milk to the blend, it slowly started looking and smelling like a soup.
Koko, my niece (I
would be mentioning her more often), and I enjoyed the soup, while mother kept
regretting for forbidding me from making it in larger quantity.
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