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Let's just say my family is filled with A-1 micromanagers. And we take this talent to dizzying heights when we are entertaining. The boy micromanages my cooking oil usage (I always hold back, he says). I peer over his shoulder to micromanage the spice levels (that's a whole bottle of peppercorns, I whine). Tempers flare and we switch topics. Pan-fry or bake? Grill or stove top? Tandoori or au poivre?
We are hosting Thanksgiving tomorrow, so you can imagine what the last week has been like.
All was going swimmingly today actually, except for a little skirmish about the green beans (walnuts or almonds?). We both had the day off (a miracle in and of itself), prepped the food in the morning and had the afternoon free to go watch the inimitable Eddie Murphy at his hilarious best in "Tower Heist".
Only while returning home we reignited the chutney-or-jelly debate.
It is unclear if it was the fatigue or sheer madness that made me make both. And with that dear reader, I give you a sneak preview of my Thanksgiving menu.
LikeItSpicy wishes all its readers a very happy festival of lights. My week thus far has been filled with divine food, many vodka shots, food stomping music, and a scandalous party to boot. And I managed to keep the sari on. Up next - illegal firecrackers. Together with bowls of Badam Kheer.
One of the things I struggle with is meal planning. I enjoy cooking, but not when I feel like someone is holding a gun to my head. My job requires me to be organized and to stay on top of it all. But let's just say it all falls apart when I get home.
I fantasize about taking an evening a week to plan and sort out all my meals for the upcoming week. In this fantasy, I would scour the shelf for orphaned cooking supplies to put to good use, stumble upon an interesting recipe in one of our dozens of cookbooks or think of an old childhood mainstay. Then I would hit 2-3 grocery stores over the weekend to get the required ingredients and voila! Somehow all of this would translate to piping hot, fresh, and INNOVATIVE meals through the week.
The reality is as follows: I stagger home on a weeknight, open the fridge and stare at nothing in particular for a whole five minutes. Then a flash of inspiration hits me before I realize that a key required ingredient is missing. My brain freezes and I frantically look for leftovers that can be refashioned into a respectable dinner. I crave a Chettinad Chicken, but what I see is stale rice and wilted broccoli. Then I morosely cobble something together, sometimes old, sometimes new. And resolve to plan better for next week. How do you all do it?
In the meantime, here is the result of a rare instance of meal planning that happened this past weekend, allowing a pair of eggplants who had become best friends in my refridgerator to finally achieve nirvana.
