“You can never make anything,” this was my sister who had started shouting at me while I was surfing on the internet.
I was startled at this unexpected situation, controlling my emotions asked: “what happened?”
She continued: “you have no sense of responsibility! Look at your room, how careless and untidy you are.” I looked around my room . . . it was not untidy exactly, infact it seemed more artistic and creative. I always hated those typical neat and tidy rooms, where everything is decorated on its fixed place. After all, KHUSHIFAIRY ought to have some distinction from other traditional rooms, eh? But my sister could never understand. I gave an expression of you-can-never-reach-to-my-level saying: “duh.”
She started again but in a calmer tone now: “Listen khushi! You know I am very busy these days with my tests, so you should show some responsibility.” She stood facing me, expecting some better response.
“Oh sis! I am not in a mood to take any lectures from you.” I felt I had made it but this time something different happened.
She came nearer very smoothly expressing as she-already-knew-this, and said: “poor khushi! Can never grow up, make up all herself. She can never handle the house errands, she is totally irresponsible and useless.” DDAH, DAAH, DAHHHH . . . this was really annoying, I blurted: “hey hey, excuse me! How did u say that? I can do everything . . .”
“Then what is the problem in proving it?” she interrupted.
“What do you want to see?” I had now started to accept the challenge. She was geared up: “why don’t you cook something today? Let us see what and how you do it?”
“Not a big deal, what would you like to eat?”
“Ummmmm . . . Pizza.”
Stars started twinkling over my head, I had never cooked any simple meal and here she is demanding a PIZZA, and from ME? My mind started fading away all its thoughts, PIZZA . . . PIZZA. Had I ever thought about its baking whenever I had eaten it. Was it really ME who was listening to all this crap.
I returned hearing her: “Haaah, I knew that, you can never make anything.”
I was not to remain silent now, “so you are challenging me, eh?”
“Yeah. . . sort of.”
At that time I wanted to cry loudly throwing away all the tension I had just received, but I controlled my self and switched off the computer, pushed back my chair and stood up facing her like a soldier who was going on a mission from where his return was not sure.
“OK, then see you at the dinner.” She grinned. “So we are gonna have pizza made by khushi, the great CHEF. . . Waww! Good Luck!!!“ She had left the room.
Ahh man, what the heck was this? Why did I accept her challenge, who is making pizza for the dinner?
I came up with a great idea and felt contended. Why not order for PIZZA home delivery! The plan sound cool and safe, but her evil face appeared in my mind, grinning with all her yellow teeth at me and widely opened eyes, repeating her words “…we are gonna have pizza made by khushi the great CHEF. . . huhuhuhuhuh, hahahahahahahah . . .”
No khushi no, I have to make it by my self, and I will. Yes. I went to the kitchen, a place I had hardly been to, it was quite strange to be in there having no idea what all those cupboards had in them. An extremely tough time was ahead. I saw some cooking books at the shelf and picked one with most attractive cover and pictures in it. Next what, I was going to follow a pizza recipe. I got one for pepperoni pizza, but the ingredients, they were so difficult to pronounce even. Now I had to search for the things. I opened the cabinets and found few items there, thanks to my sister that she had written names on each jar, other wise I would have suffered a lot.
Few things were missing and I realized I had to visit the market for them. I listed and headed off towards the local market. I bought pepperoni slices, ketchup, oregano, mushrooms, and came across a ready made pizza base. An evil thought came into my mind, what if I take these dough, nobody will see me and nobody will know it . . . but then my conscience fluctuated, NO KHUSHI NO, THIS IS NOT YOU, YOU CAN’T CHEAT ‘EM. I returned back home.
I set everything on the slab, and phew . . . what was that time I accepted her challenge, WHY?
Anyway, I started with the pizza dough. Following the recipe, I tried my best to knead the dough, mixing the white flour, yeast (aah, how awful it had smelt!), olive oil, warm water, salt and sugar altogether. Next came the making of pizza sauce. At first, it seemed the most difficult stage, but thank God I enjoyed the most while making it. I made a very spicy tomato sauce, and after tasting it I gained some confidence. Hey khushi, you are not that bad at cooking. Then I moved for the toppings, I chopped the capsicum, pepperoni slices, mushrooms, and shredded the cheese.
Further, I rolled the dough and made 3 family sized pizza bases. Then spread the sauce on it. There was a pleasant feeling that I am baking pizza, I – khushifairy – oh my GOD! it was so unrealistic for me to work for 2 – 3 hours in the kitchen and also not cooking something but baking a pizza. Then I spread the topping and sprinkled some oregano on the top and it was just ready to go to the oven.
Being very much careful, I placed it in the gas oven, started my stopwatch, and went to my room, very very excited, could not hide my feelings, so I started calling all my friends and telling them proudly and confidently that I am making pepperoni pizzas. Few of my friends were badly shocked, and few weren’t believing, then one of my close friend – who was also in a great trauma – asked me to capture some pictures of it and share it on my blog for proof. That was really a nice idea, because this was my first time to make something, a big victory of mine.
After some time I checked my pizza, it was almost baked, so I arranged the dinner table, and arranged the plates with drink. I rushed to my sister’s room, knocked and eager to hear: “com’in,” I entered with a look of victory and success, I asked her to come down for the dinner. She saw me from head to toe very slowly, then I realized that how funny I was looking, my hair had gone white because of flour, and some flour was sticking on my hair, there was some sauce at the bottom of my face, I didn’t knew when it got there (probably while I tasted it), and the worst were my clothes, my baby pink shirt had turned grey, with red patches of sauce on it.
After looking at myself I lifted my head to her and smiled very innocently, she started laughing and explained: “dear, there is something called an apron in the kitchen, you should have used it“. She blurted out laughing again.
Anyhow, I walked back to kitchen and saw that APRON hanging behind the door, I asked my self, am I blind? Why had not I seen this before. Duh, but the beautiful aroma of the delicious pizza diverted my attention. I took out the pizza, WOW! how delicious it had smelt. I pushed it in the serving plate and took it to the table, jumping with excitement, infact screaming. At that moment I wanted to fly, I was so happy about the remarkable pizza made by me. Both my brother and sister were impressed and quite stunned at my condition. I did not care, I just placed the second pizza in the oven, and started to enjoy the first one. They praised a lot, and I myself was really enjoying the taste, yummmmyyy. . . It was a beautiful feeling that I made those pizzas all by myself. They asked me to bake pizza again some other day, and I answered: "oh, sure no problem for me..."
That night I was thinking that it was really not that difficult to do some house chores and especially cooking, indeed it was a great fun. And one must try out such lovely activities. As I had done (or was made to. . .) Since that day, it enlivens me each time I recall MY FIRST PIZZA BAKING.
