Letter to my parents

Dear Mamma and Daddy,

Today I made a fantastic meal. All by my own and it tasted wonderful. I don’t think I have eaten this much since I got here.

You went on and on about sending me masalas on skype and I always replied with a singular firm NO.

But you did send them and I used them and I made Masala Pasta and goodness, does it taste yumm.

Thank you for being you. You is awesome.

I love you.

Your silly silly daughter.

Food woes and wins

Today I made tandoori chicken. Or at least the attempt was that. I have the leg or rather the stump of the leg of a chicken and I am roasting it in the pan with my tandoori masala which is smelling oh-so-good.

I had bought some fresh black bread and I was excited to eat this piece of chicken. I have been thinking about it  since I bought the packet of masala in London about 2 weeks back. So I place this wonderful red piece of chicken on the plate, put some lemon juice on it and slowly begin to eat it.

Well, to be honest, it was not good. It was so bad that I don’t want to talk about it. I had 10 mins to get to class so I made a quick meal out of it.  As I was cutting the chicken, I pulled open an artery and suddenly blood sprang out. There was chicken blood all over my tandoori chicken.

For you vegetarians especially, you might think of us non-vegetarians are carnivores but even for us, chicken blood on food is just not civilized. I was greatly saddened by the fate of chicken. I ate some thinking about how animal blood is a delicacy is some countries (Meera, I was thinking about Ladakh and that Ladakhi recipe book). However, I threw most of it away. Just could not look at it.

In the evening, I gathered my guts and attempted a tandoori sandwich this time. And it turned out okay. In fact, it was quite delicious. I feel happy. The sandwich turned out to be my salvation especially after the murderous attempt at cooking in the afternoon.