far from it.
and of course there's always a but,
i just wish my other half, wonderful human being that he is,
would stop doing the cooking.
or that he would stop cooking curries.
because they kill me.
they all taste the same.
i.e. they are all mind numbingly H.O.T. and they blow my insides away.
he phoned me on my way home from work to say that i didn't have to cook.
i was delighted.
i've made curry. he sounded chuffed with himself.
my heart sank.
what kind of curry? i enquired tentatively.
butter chicken, he replied happily.
i was surprised.
butter chicken suggested mellow colours and pleasant tastes.
creamy sauces with tantalizing spices.
his curries usually don't have a name.
they are just the hottest of any kind of spices that he can find thrown in the pot with chicken, onions, mushrooms and tomatoes.
he loves them.
they are all the same colour and consistency and made with the sole purpose of making him gasp and get hiccups.
that's his idea of success.
i was hopeful.
fool that i am.
until i sat down to eat.
|nicked from google images|
'eh? eh?' he enquired.
eyes begging for a vote of gratitude and thanks.
'isn't it the best i've made yet?'
i was speechless.
'did you follow a recipe?' i enquired after a few forkfuls as i waited for my tongue to stop swelling.
'Nah.' he scoffed.
unspoken: recipes are for wimps.
'i just threw everything in the pot;' he explained as if he was teaching gordon ramsay the little tricks of the trade. 'chicken, onions, mushrooms and tomatoes and a cup or two of water, lots of spices, stirred and then let it simmer.'
'it's fantastic isn't it?'
he really believes that.
i couldn't respond as i'd have liked because my mouth was on fire and my innards were aflame.
he didn't notice because he was too busy being so darned pleased with himself.
i have tried to explain that i want to be able to 'taste' the food, savour the flavour.
but he doesn't get it.
if it's not burning your entrails he thinks it's no good.
if i was to get near an open flame and breathe hard i could do a fire eating act.
i wouldn't dream of bursting his bubble tho' so being the loyal wife that i am i ate the lot and didn't say i word.
well, i couldn't have, even if i'd wanted to.