Gordon Ramsay & Anger Management
Let me preface this by saying that I have a lot of unrealised potential when it comes to cooking. Living with four gourmet chefs who are passionate about food is a treat when you enjoy eating as much as I do. A bit more daunting when you think of trying to cook something yourself.
During this pandemic, people have really taken to their kitchens to cook the most Insta-worthy recipes. And they have the pictures to prove it (pun intended). At the beginning of lockdown, the dish I saw that was most commonly being made was Banana Bread. Now, I like a true monkey do enjoy bananas but get this, I have NEVER eaten Banana Bread (feel free to stop gasping anytime now. It's not a big deal). I'd like to think that I am not very conformative, think more Julia Roberts who low-key quit at the height of her fame (I have the big teeth if not the charisma) than Julia Child (I have the physicality if not the voice), however, I decided that I was going to make Banana Bread too.
I expected some things to go wrong in the kitchen but as it turned out, my battle was with something else entirely. The lead up to this attempt is now etched in my memory as the first time I recall being truly angry during our self isolation period. Sure, there would be fleeting moments of irritation when people would keep complaining on WhatsApp or send scarily untrue forwards but I feel that I very quickly accepted the fact that I simply had to stay home to keep myself and those around me safe. I didn't fight it. I just carried on living in la-la-land in my head (with Ryan Gosling). I would sum up my attitude as mostly calm, seldom bored and only slightly fatalistic. My exasperation, when it would strike would usually be unsuccessfully masked despite my best efforts.
Apart from being a bad actress, I'm also a planner so I thought that one quiet afternoon when the kitchen would be empty and thus, free from judgement, I'll bake a scrumptious Banana Bread and surprise my parents with a loaf at tea time. However, I am also a Chatty Cathy (feel free to stop laughing at any time, at least I'm self aware too) so, one day I proclaimed to my mother my grand on-to-becoming Masterchef plan. She simply asked me, ''Why? Pop doesn't eat bananas and no one else in the family has ever even said the phrase Banana Bread including you. You should still cook but maybe something else.'' Without warning, a hazy red mist began forming and my mind became like that of a petulant child (to clarify, I wasn't for a change angry at my mother, her words rang true. She's always encouraged my myriad of hobbies). Instead, my mind began its relentless and repetitive monologue - 'everything is against me! I can't have it all! Why is life so difficult? Look at me. I was trying to do something new but alas it isn't meant to be'. The tiny, rational part of my brain knew that I was clinging to feeble excuses and this was hardly a bump in the dough but anger tends to supersede all that.
Where does our irrational anger come from? Are people out to get you? Maybe if you've done something to annoy them (*wears lawyer robes* Ah, but who is to know what annoys others?). Is life really unfair? Well, yes it can be. You could be on your way to a vacation in the Maldives with your beloved partner and discover that they stand in the aisle as soon as the plane lands...and applauds. Some people warn that if you don't vent your anger out, it'll manifest somewhere else. I don't subscribe to this notion. It's an excuse that you can't handle your rage and if that doesn't convince you, you'll probably have to apologise to whomever you lashed out at which would only further annoy you - vicious cycle and all that. But we've all been guilty of thinking that we're being singlehandedly tortured (Sheer Dumb Luck at play - they're angry at someone else but taking it out on me). Whether we have the clarity and good sense to understand and analyse our behaviour is up to us (I love analysing; that adds up to - planner, non conformative, talkative, analytical - the dating profile writes itself).
Periods of rage (justified or not) right now are not unexpected. I understood that my rage at my mom's accurate advise was misplaced. We are all trying to put our best sanitised foot forward and smile serenely under our masks, but this is a time of elevated stress. There is too much that is unknown and the rumours are going from pangolin wild to disinfectant swallowing fatal. A sense of collective grief - for those who have passed, those who are sick, those who have lost someone, those who are helpless and for a life that has changed dramatically has engulfed us. With such significant changes in our external world, there had to be a change in our emotional growth too (I wouldn't call it a flattening simply because I've seen higher levels of compassion, gratitude and humour too).
So, we get angry. Angry at our families, our friends, our partners, at the news, at the Government, at the WHO, at China, at people clapping, at people not clapping, at our staff, at ourselves, at the virus itself. Maybe this emotion is also coming out so much because it is paradoxically, our only way of exerting some control in this out of control situation. It's debatable whether anger accomplishes something productive or not but it is contagious and I wonder if we are ready for another contagion. It is a part of our psyche and we can't escape it. Even the most peaceful, mind numbingly dull Jaya Bachchan Raichand had a breaking point - keh diya na, bas keh diya.
How do you dissipate the anger then? Weirdly enough, we all may be bound within our four walls but I feel that we all are more connected than ever before. Our social circles have expanded somehow. There are fewer excuses to give if you don't want to be present for a House Party or a group Zoom chat (what will you say? You have to be somewhere?). But, all these connections, however tedious they may seem at times, they help. At the end of another listless day, with anger bubbling below the surface, talking to a loved one about anything mundane (not the news), a story you've relived countless times, the new show you're obsessed with, a blog that resonates deeply with you, anything at all, it can help relieve the stress. Also, fitness is important etc etc..
After my fantastical ploy to create Banana Bread was foiled, I spoke to a friend about my day. I jokingly explained the Battle of Banana Bread (me vs me). She told me about a recipe (not of Banana Bread thankfully) she tried and how well it turned out. After sharing the process, she gave me sweet words of encouragement. I don't know what it was but I decided to listen to her and try making what she had - an almond cake. The recipe looked pretty straightforward. Lo and behold, what's this? A new ingredient - almond flour. Since my home isn't terribly trendy, we don't have such options readily available. Cue the tantrums, right? Call it some sort of divine intervention or simply a coincidence but I recalled another friend sharing how simple it was to make almond flour at home and that's exactly what I did. I couldn't begin my gastronomic journey in a quiet peaceful kitchen as I had earlier devised. Instead, it was with my gracious and helpful household staff. Their expressions at seeing me in the kitchen (gathering ingredients rather than rummaging through the snack shelf) ranged from shock to bemusement. I asked them for their help and tried to explain what gluten free meant (they were not impressed). The batter didn't quite resemble the video I saw but it tasted good (note to novice chefs - keep tasting!) and the aroma was heart-eye-emoji. I even found my trusty old double whisk beater, surely another sign (add believer of signs to my online profile) that this was meant to be a success. With the batter ready and poured into the buttered tin, the oven and me both hot, I set my timer and left the kitchen while reciting a prayer.
Bing! I had just about cooled down from the kitchen heat and it was time to face the music. Look at that, a fluffy, mouth watering, delicious almond cake. The idea that somehow I had combined a bunch of ingredients and produced something tangible (and appetizing) affirmed my optimism and faith in my culinary skills. I made a huge show about a simple cake and my lovely family, always one to go along with my tricks gave me endless compliments that I ate right up along with my cake. Their compliments were sweet but my cake was sweeter (yes it had sugar, don't infuriate me with your dietary requirements now).
During this pandemic, people have really taken to their kitchens to cook the most Insta-worthy recipes. And they have the pictures to prove it (pun intended). At the beginning of lockdown, the dish I saw that was most commonly being made was Banana Bread. Now, I like a true monkey do enjoy bananas but get this, I have NEVER eaten Banana Bread (feel free to stop gasping anytime now. It's not a big deal). I'd like to think that I am not very conformative, think more Julia Roberts who low-key quit at the height of her fame (I have the big teeth if not the charisma) than Julia Child (I have the physicality if not the voice), however, I decided that I was going to make Banana Bread too.
I expected some things to go wrong in the kitchen but as it turned out, my battle was with something else entirely. The lead up to this attempt is now etched in my memory as the first time I recall being truly angry during our self isolation period. Sure, there would be fleeting moments of irritation when people would keep complaining on WhatsApp or send scarily untrue forwards but I feel that I very quickly accepted the fact that I simply had to stay home to keep myself and those around me safe. I didn't fight it. I just carried on living in la-la-land in my head (with Ryan Gosling). I would sum up my attitude as mostly calm, seldom bored and only slightly fatalistic. My exasperation, when it would strike would usually be unsuccessfully masked despite my best efforts.
Apart from being a bad actress, I'm also a planner so I thought that one quiet afternoon when the kitchen would be empty and thus, free from judgement, I'll bake a scrumptious Banana Bread and surprise my parents with a loaf at tea time. However, I am also a Chatty Cathy (feel free to stop laughing at any time, at least I'm self aware too) so, one day I proclaimed to my mother my grand on-to-becoming Masterchef plan. She simply asked me, ''Why? Pop doesn't eat bananas and no one else in the family has ever even said the phrase Banana Bread including you. You should still cook but maybe something else.'' Without warning, a hazy red mist began forming and my mind became like that of a petulant child (to clarify, I wasn't for a change angry at my mother, her words rang true. She's always encouraged my myriad of hobbies). Instead, my mind began its relentless and repetitive monologue - 'everything is against me! I can't have it all! Why is life so difficult? Look at me. I was trying to do something new but alas it isn't meant to be'. The tiny, rational part of my brain knew that I was clinging to feeble excuses and this was hardly a bump in the dough but anger tends to supersede all that.
Where does our irrational anger come from? Are people out to get you? Maybe if you've done something to annoy them (*wears lawyer robes* Ah, but who is to know what annoys others?). Is life really unfair? Well, yes it can be. You could be on your way to a vacation in the Maldives with your beloved partner and discover that they stand in the aisle as soon as the plane lands...and applauds. Some people warn that if you don't vent your anger out, it'll manifest somewhere else. I don't subscribe to this notion. It's an excuse that you can't handle your rage and if that doesn't convince you, you'll probably have to apologise to whomever you lashed out at which would only further annoy you - vicious cycle and all that. But we've all been guilty of thinking that we're being singlehandedly tortured (Sheer Dumb Luck at play - they're angry at someone else but taking it out on me). Whether we have the clarity and good sense to understand and analyse our behaviour is up to us (I love analysing; that adds up to - planner, non conformative, talkative, analytical - the dating profile writes itself).
Periods of rage (justified or not) right now are not unexpected. I understood that my rage at my mom's accurate advise was misplaced. We are all trying to put our best sanitised foot forward and smile serenely under our masks, but this is a time of elevated stress. There is too much that is unknown and the rumours are going from pangolin wild to disinfectant swallowing fatal. A sense of collective grief - for those who have passed, those who are sick, those who have lost someone, those who are helpless and for a life that has changed dramatically has engulfed us. With such significant changes in our external world, there had to be a change in our emotional growth too (I wouldn't call it a flattening simply because I've seen higher levels of compassion, gratitude and humour too).
So, we get angry. Angry at our families, our friends, our partners, at the news, at the Government, at the WHO, at China, at people clapping, at people not clapping, at our staff, at ourselves, at the virus itself. Maybe this emotion is also coming out so much because it is paradoxically, our only way of exerting some control in this out of control situation. It's debatable whether anger accomplishes something productive or not but it is contagious and I wonder if we are ready for another contagion. It is a part of our psyche and we can't escape it. Even the most peaceful, mind numbingly dull Jaya Bachchan Raichand had a breaking point - keh diya na, bas keh diya.
How do you dissipate the anger then? Weirdly enough, we all may be bound within our four walls but I feel that we all are more connected than ever before. Our social circles have expanded somehow. There are fewer excuses to give if you don't want to be present for a House Party or a group Zoom chat (what will you say? You have to be somewhere?). But, all these connections, however tedious they may seem at times, they help. At the end of another listless day, with anger bubbling below the surface, talking to a loved one about anything mundane (not the news), a story you've relived countless times, the new show you're obsessed with, a blog that resonates deeply with you, anything at all, it can help relieve the stress. Also, fitness is important etc etc..
After my fantastical ploy to create Banana Bread was foiled, I spoke to a friend about my day. I jokingly explained the Battle of Banana Bread (me vs me). She told me about a recipe (not of Banana Bread thankfully) she tried and how well it turned out. After sharing the process, she gave me sweet words of encouragement. I don't know what it was but I decided to listen to her and try making what she had - an almond cake. The recipe looked pretty straightforward. Lo and behold, what's this? A new ingredient - almond flour. Since my home isn't terribly trendy, we don't have such options readily available. Cue the tantrums, right? Call it some sort of divine intervention or simply a coincidence but I recalled another friend sharing how simple it was to make almond flour at home and that's exactly what I did. I couldn't begin my gastronomic journey in a quiet peaceful kitchen as I had earlier devised. Instead, it was with my gracious and helpful household staff. Their expressions at seeing me in the kitchen (gathering ingredients rather than rummaging through the snack shelf) ranged from shock to bemusement. I asked them for their help and tried to explain what gluten free meant (they were not impressed). The batter didn't quite resemble the video I saw but it tasted good (note to novice chefs - keep tasting!) and the aroma was heart-eye-emoji. I even found my trusty old double whisk beater, surely another sign (add believer of signs to my online profile) that this was meant to be a success. With the batter ready and poured into the buttered tin, the oven and me both hot, I set my timer and left the kitchen while reciting a prayer.
Bing! I had just about cooled down from the kitchen heat and it was time to face the music. Look at that, a fluffy, mouth watering, delicious almond cake. The idea that somehow I had combined a bunch of ingredients and produced something tangible (and appetizing) affirmed my optimism and faith in my culinary skills. I made a huge show about a simple cake and my lovely family, always one to go along with my tricks gave me endless compliments that I ate right up along with my cake. Their compliments were sweet but my cake was sweeter (yes it had sugar, don't infuriate me with your dietary requirements now).
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