Phoren Diaries - Part 2
So IB's second day in Newcastle ended eventfully. It was the first time he shopped for groceries, and tried his hand at cooking something. Well, it wasn't so bad. Except that at the end of the day, he had to make do with a dinner of citrus juice and a vitamin tablet. Sigh.
IB asked me the recipe for an omelette. As we know, cooking omelettes is really simple and not at all backbreaking. But trust IB to make even that as difficult as Suresh Kalmadi returning all the money he accumulated during the Commonwealth Games. IB bought eggs and milk and butter. And a big bottle of juice, I think it's a litre. Unfortunately, he couldn't locate either Maggi or rice in the departmental store and will ask his fellow Tamilians around. So he went to the mall and asked a salesgirl something which elicited a very rude and cold response from her. "Excuse me, could you tell me if you have eggs?" LOL.
Anyway, IB came back suitably chastened and with a lot of readymade stuff to eat. Milk and cornflakes formed his first meal, and he promptly spilled most of it on the table in the communal kitchen, which is shared amongst four students. So he had to wipe that up. Just one reminder here: IB does not (rather, cannot) do anything without spilling/throwing/messing/dropping/add-another-suitable-catastrophic-gerund-here. He is an expert in that field. Then he decided to cook an omelette for dinner. As told, he whisked the eggs to perfection and added salt and pepper. Well, that isn't much of a task now, is it?
Here is a picture of the perfectly whisked eggs (in Monica's words, "Even a monkey could do that.") But I do not take anything away from the boy or his efforts at learning.
Well, what do you know. He put on the pan. But I couldn't fathom why he did not put in either oil or butter in the pan in spite of my repeated orders. So the eggs didn't cook. And stayed runny. And IB had to dispose of them not in his stomach but in the trash can. He later told me that the dish had been only cooked for 3 minutes on low heat (they use electricity, instead of old-fashioned gas in England). Three minutes? Even water doesn't start boiling over low heat in that time. So how IB thought it would be sufficient to cook an omelette I will never know.
Then, IB hit on another brainstorm -- of making a sandwich for dinner. But as it turns out, he had forgotten to buy cheese from the store. So what do you have? No cheese, no omelette, plain bread (which he does not like). And so, IB's first dinner in Newcastle comprised -- hold your breath -- a ton of juice and a vitamin tablet. Yes. You heard it right.
But IB did make coffee. Instant Nescafe. And it looked very nice indeed (though I am not so sure about the taste).
IB also gorged on Belgian chocolate mousse cakes (affordable and delicious, of course). He told me how everything was very expensive in that foreign land. A fried egg costs 1.5 pounds while a litre of water is a pound. The cheapest vegetarian item in the university cafetaria is pasta -- a plate for a whopping five pounds! So you see, IB really has his task cut out.
Anyway, it will be a happy evening for IB today. The university is throwing a dinner party for all the new students. And parties can mean only one thing -- FREE FOOD! IB is positively delighted. I have even asked him to smuggle in some food for tomorrow, maybe hide some in his coat pockets, or store them in his cheeks like a hamster. It's heartening to know that IB will eat well tonight at least. Instead of gorging on Indian delicacies, I can imagine him with a plate of Yorkshire pudding and blood sausage in his hands. Can that EVER happen though? Not in my wildest dreams.
IB asked me the recipe for an omelette. As we know, cooking omelettes is really simple and not at all backbreaking. But trust IB to make even that as difficult as Suresh Kalmadi returning all the money he accumulated during the Commonwealth Games. IB bought eggs and milk and butter. And a big bottle of juice, I think it's a litre. Unfortunately, he couldn't locate either Maggi or rice in the departmental store and will ask his fellow Tamilians around. So he went to the mall and asked a salesgirl something which elicited a very rude and cold response from her. "Excuse me, could you tell me if you have eggs?" LOL.
Anyway, IB came back suitably chastened and with a lot of readymade stuff to eat. Milk and cornflakes formed his first meal, and he promptly spilled most of it on the table in the communal kitchen, which is shared amongst four students. So he had to wipe that up. Just one reminder here: IB does not (rather, cannot) do anything without spilling/throwing/messing/dropping/add-another-suitable-catastrophic-gerund-here. He is an expert in that field. Then he decided to cook an omelette for dinner. As told, he whisked the eggs to perfection and added salt and pepper. Well, that isn't much of a task now, is it?
Here is a picture of the perfectly whisked eggs (in Monica's words, "Even a monkey could do that.") But I do not take anything away from the boy or his efforts at learning.
Well, what do you know. He put on the pan. But I couldn't fathom why he did not put in either oil or butter in the pan in spite of my repeated orders. So the eggs didn't cook. And stayed runny. And IB had to dispose of them not in his stomach but in the trash can. He later told me that the dish had been only cooked for 3 minutes on low heat (they use electricity, instead of old-fashioned gas in England). Three minutes? Even water doesn't start boiling over low heat in that time. So how IB thought it would be sufficient to cook an omelette I will never know.
Then, IB hit on another brainstorm -- of making a sandwich for dinner. But as it turns out, he had forgotten to buy cheese from the store. So what do you have? No cheese, no omelette, plain bread (which he does not like). And so, IB's first dinner in Newcastle comprised -- hold your breath -- a ton of juice and a vitamin tablet. Yes. You heard it right.
But IB did make coffee. Instant Nescafe. And it looked very nice indeed (though I am not so sure about the taste).
IB also gorged on Belgian chocolate mousse cakes (affordable and delicious, of course). He told me how everything was very expensive in that foreign land. A fried egg costs 1.5 pounds while a litre of water is a pound. The cheapest vegetarian item in the university cafetaria is pasta -- a plate for a whopping five pounds! So you see, IB really has his task cut out.
Anyway, it will be a happy evening for IB today. The university is throwing a dinner party for all the new students. And parties can mean only one thing -- FREE FOOD! IB is positively delighted. I have even asked him to smuggle in some food for tomorrow, maybe hide some in his coat pockets, or store them in his cheeks like a hamster. It's heartening to know that IB will eat well tonight at least. Instead of gorging on Indian delicacies, I can imagine him with a plate of Yorkshire pudding and blood sausage in his hands. Can that EVER happen though? Not in my wildest dreams.
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