Is it just me, or does every family get-together feel like an interrogation? My relatives have a PhD in question-asking: “So, when are you getting married?” “Have you thought about kids?” “Why aren't you more like Sharma ji ka beta?” Like, I’m just here for the free biryani and to avoid awkward eye contact. Honestly, I thought catching up meant chatting about childhood memories, not diving into my...
Why do we even bother pretending to love cooking when ordering takeout is basically the greatest invention since sliced bread? Like, I can barely chop an onion without crying, but somehow I’m expected to whip up a five-course meal? I’d rather spend that time perfecting my couch potato skills. Can we just agree that being an adult means figuring out how to make instant ramen fancy?
Honestly, can we talk about how people treat cooking like it's an Olympic sport? I just wanted a simple recipe for dinner, and instead, I found a 10-page essay on the existential meaning of each ingredient. Like, dude, I just need to know if I should boil the pasta or if I should be making it dance in olive oil while chanting ancient food spells. If I wanted a TED Talk, I’d just go watch one; I just want to eat without feeling like I need a degree in culinary arts!
Honestly, can we talk about how people treat cooking like it's an Olympic sport? I just wanted a simple recipe for dinner, and instead, I found a 10-page essay on the existential meaning of each ingredient. Like, dude, I just need to know if I should boil the pasta or if I should be making it dance in olive oil while chanting ancient food spells. If I wanted a TED Talk, I’d just go watch one; I just want to eat without feeling like I need a degree in culinary arts!
I genuinely want to know—who decided that cooking at home was an adulting milestone? Because I just spent an hour trying to figure out how to chop an onion without crying and still managed to burn the toast. And don't even get me started on the recipe that said "easy pasta" but somehow turned into a scene from a horror movie. Is my stove plotting against me, or are there just some people who are b...