My earliest memory of my mom is cooking in the kitchen, constantly making different dishes for each one of us lest we accuse her of favoritism. She spoiled us completely and I thought this was the norm till I discussed it one day with a classmate and she was aghast and completely envious of me! With mouth wide open, she said, "You mean to say your mom cooks different stuff for all of you depending on your fancy and actually cajoles you to eat?" In school, with our lunch sometimes would be hand-written notes, saying "Love you" or "Enjoy your food" and my friends would say "How sweet" but I always thought they were teasing me. I would come home and shout at her for being childish. Would shout at her for embarrassing me. If only I could get hand-written notes today with my meals.
As a kid, I would enjoy yelling the place down if the vegetable was not to my liking and my poor mother would come running to apologize and ask me what I wanted to eat. The spoilt brat instead would retort, "Nothing. You go cook for your husband and other children. I'll Have MAGGI" Maggi was the utter insult for her. That was my weapon for getting anything I wanted because she considered Maggi to be 'unhealthy and life-threatening!' She would still try to cajole me saying, "One day you will miss all this as once you are married, nobody will care if you want to eat or not. Nobody will cajole you. You wont even get angry and will eat anything" and i would snigger! Today, yes, I miss all this. Nobody cares the way you did Ma. I have to cook/ decide and its no fun throwing tantrums on yourself.
Friends who would come over (without prior intimation) would be amazed at the spread of food on a regular basis. That was the first time I started valuing her food. Then came my work-life where once again my colleagues would be envious of all the boxes I would be given. And me nonchalantly would say, "I dont even like it, I dont know why she gives me all this rubbish" although secretly I was proud of my Ma and her cooking. My work sometimes demanded that I leave at 6 a.m. to go to Panvel, where painstakingly my mom would wake up to make fresh food for me (never from the previous night - 'it's not healthy you see') I would go to Panvel and eat sandwiches etc there and sometimes bring back her food. Today, I realize what an insult it is. How horrible it feels when your loved one doesn't eat the food you've prepared for them.
It's not all about food, but for me food reminds me of my Mom. The best and most loving cook ever. For whom cooking was a demonstration of love and never a chore. For whom calories didn't matter but satisfaction mattered. For whom food meant family time. For whom food meant no compromise. Not once have I heard her saying. "I am tired I don't feel like cooking." I wish I could be selfless and all loving like her.
My dear husband, I love cooking for you. But I wish you were a little more demanding, the way I was. It's more fun to cook for demanding people, making things your loved ones love. I would like to believe that made my mom love cooking so much. Am sorry Mom.....I just love you and your food.
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