Monday, November 16, 2009


Hello everyone! This is Iggy here, a food connoisseur (?) of sorts. If you want to know more about me, watch this space!

To start with, I want to share a food disaster story!

I'm absolutely fond of cooking. It's my favorite hobby, I love experimenting, and I do believe I'm a good cook! I like reading recipes, trying them out, and putting my own spin on things...

Unfortunately, I can sometimes be a DISASTER when it comes to baking. Sometimes, I can't bake a cake to save my life! And this post is about one such unfortunate baking disaster.

I read a recipe for Milk Cake, and it sounded, and looked, delicious. It looked pretty simple to make, so I decided I'll try it.

The recipe called for a tin of condensed milk, flour, baking soda, sugar, and six eggs. I mixed everything well, pre-heated the oven, set the baking mold, and I got to baking. The recipe said it should take about 20 minutes to make, so I set the timer accordingly.

Well, five minutes later, I could smell something from the kitchen. So my nose led me there, and I peered into the oven. What I saw next was sort of amazing. The "cake" had risen out of the tray, almost like a souffle, and there was a thick smell of eggs around. For safety measures, I even inserted a toothpick, which came out clean. This is an indication that the "cake" was done.

So I took it out of the oven, and set it to cool. The smell of eggs was too overpowering, so I was sort of prepared for a nasty creation. I took a small piece and popped it into my mouth. And let me tell you, it was disgusting! I wasn't eating "cake"...I was eating eggs! YUCK! It was so disgusting, I spit it out.

No one touched the experiment, and it was lying in the casserole for about a week till mold took over. It was completely green by the time mum threw it out. Good riddance, I say! You may also like to know that I haven't baked since that day..

I suppose it's the six eggs that ruined it. So come to think of it, the disaster wasn't really my was the recipe's! Oh well!

Friday, October 9, 2009

The Calamity Maker!!! first post here, efficiently lifted from my blog archive. Just to start with :-)

Recently I went to a nearby store and found a chapathi-maker there. I was told by the sales guy that it made chapathi-making very easy. This almost lured me into buying it, taking into account innumerable days I sweat, groan, nag and sulk at the kitchen,laboring hard to accomplish the above mentioned activity. As most husbands usually are, mine is also selectively deaf at apparel stores and other ladies stores. I had to shake him vigorously to bring him to his senses when the sales guy delivered a totally overwhelming speech about the advantages of a chapathi maker.By the end of the speech, I was almost convinced into buying it. Smart as I always were, I got him pay the bill with an attached, personalized warning: ‘ Let's see how you make use of it'. Quite a challenge. I was excited, conveniently ignoring the above comment.

We got back home, and the urge to ‘use’ the chapathi-maker was tempting. It had two heavy circular plates, connected to each other, and a lever on which we were to ‘lightly press’ so that the chapathi becomes thin and round. The dough was made with great hurry, and we waited till it got all ‘set.
I now step gingerly into the kitchen looking forward to make hot, soft, delicious chapathis.
Dough 1: I take the dough, which is quite the size of a table tennis ball, apply some flour on it, press lightly with my hands, keep it inside the chapathi maker , topped with lots of expectations. I press with the maximum pressure I could possibly apply. With beaming eyes, I open it, and saw that it had grown to the size of a puri, and is stuck at the top circular plate of the maker. I tried to detach it with all my strength. Exhausted and worn out, I started breathing heavily, and this invited him to step in hurriedly into the kitchen. He tried to hide the amusement the scene had brought to his lips, pulled it out as if he was doing some Herculian task and it emerged into the weirdest shape ( close to the shape of Sri Lanka as we see it on the map). I am totally embarrassed. I roll it up again to its original shape as if nothing happened and gave an ‘its-all-in-the-game’ look. He gave me a I-tol-you-na-that-it-wont-work stare and a sarcastic what-a-beautiful-shape-for-a-chapathi look and left immediately with a have-a-nice-time-with-your-chapathi-maker smile.

He left muttering words and I could almost make out ‘She and her chapathi maker’.

Dough 2: Now that was a call to prove myself.

The second dough is taken with utmost care, placed inside, and pressed after uttering The Lord’s prayer. This time, more flour, and the pressing becomes scrupulous that both my legs are in the air now, a few centimeters abover sea level err..i mean the floor .I open the chapathi maker again with a hell lot of expectations. This time, the chapathi is thin and rounded (thanks to each and every gram of my weight). I jump with joy and try to pull it out. The chapathi gives way to two big holes for the Bay of Bengal and the Arabian Sea.

I solemnly placed the chapathi maker in the sink, and made yummy, reasonably shaped chapathis in the next half an hour, in the conventional way.

Thanks to chapathi maker for sending down the drain 500 bucks (which I could have judiciously spent at fabindia), for wasting 30 minutes of a working-day evening, water ,soap, and giving me a joint pain bad enough that I had to use ‘moov’ continuously for 10 days after that. The chapathi maker which made my life easy, now rests at the farthest possible corner of the kitchen cupboard and is available to all readers on an auction. If you are interested, you can mail me directly at my email id .

The item on auction can be disintegrated, and creatively used as

 Paper weight

 Stand to keep oil and other jars

 Hot vessel plate

 Cutting board

 Modern wall hanging

p.s:-If you happen to buy this item and use it for purposes other than those mentioned above, please let me know!

Bring out the silverware

So one bright lazy day, our bright eyed spy girl had an idea
she woke up, stretched and yawned, 
wrote a brand new post, 
made some sigh 
made some cry
and altogether tickled the fancy 
of other bright eyed writers

yada yada yada...
short story cut shorter

Kitchen Fiction was born!

a bunch of bloggers apparently high on fumes from their cooking 
are going to be dealing their spiel here
emotions running high
spices flying all around
Its going to be crazy fun!

Please, do stay for dinner


PS: check out the other conspirators on the right