I share a matter-of-fact relationship with cooking.  Eating out on a frequent basis is neither healthy nor economical, which is what motivates me to feed homemade food for my family for the most part.  I do like trying new recipes, but I have an issue when the recipe calls for my undivided attention (eg. kaju barfis) or requires infinite patience (eg. rava dosai). My cooking philosophy is in sharp contrast with that of the more orthodox members of my clan, who consider the kitchen as sacrosanct or that of my grandmas and mom, who made everything, literally everything, vadam, podi, ooruga and bakshnam, from the scratch.

As a child, I have wondered, why, why are they putting themselves through this ordeal? It's only food, the taste lasts for no more than a few minutes and it gets digested in a couple of hours, so why spend hours toiling in the kitchen? It's not like those who consume,  volunteer to take over next time or at the very minimum, are magnanimous with their compliments?

But it started making sense last week, partly prompted by my efforts to make ribbon pakoda and partly inspired by a beautiful post from a fellow blogger. As I was making ribbon pakoda for a dear pregnant friend, I caught myself with the following monologue, "I hope the milaga podi does not give her a heartburn", "I wish I knew which shade of brown she likes her pakoda to be", "I should make another installment in the evening", so on and so forth. Just then I was conscious of the fact that, what I was making for my friend was more than savoury; it was a way of showing I cared. Connecting these dots backwards, I began to realize that that's how my grandmoms showered their affection on us; by making food tailor-made to please our varying taste buds without any expectation in return and by fondly thinking about us while making the delicacies. Sure, food can be an expression of love!

I cajole Atul into giving me a million hugs and kisses in a day (well, not literally but you get the idea, right?). Yet those unexpected hugs and unsolicited kisses steal the thunder.