I love to eat.

I REALLY love to eat.

When I see food I get excited. I’m not a glutton but food is probably one of my most favourite things. I don’t differentiate when it comes to food. Dosa, lasangne, dim sum, aapam, biryani, phad thai, tom yam, idli, maasi, desserts; I love everything as long as it tastes good. Bad food is a totally different experience. Some of which haunts me till today. But I love to feel the the flavours in my mouth. I like to taste food and guess what’s in it. I love spooning mutton curry right off the stove and tasting biryani as soon as it is done. If you give me a four course meal I will eat. If you give me curd rice and oorga, I will still eat and ask for more a la Oliver Twist.

I am what a person might call a thinipandaram which roughly translates to eatercock. You know, like fighter cock. I am not a QUANTITY thinipandaram but rather a QUALITY thinipandaram.

My mamma always tells me, “If you love to eat so much can’t you please cook?”.
Fair enough. But she NEVER lets me inside the kitchen when she cooks. She always asks me to get out of her way, like I am some big boulder that is preventing her from cooking.

Hence, I resigned to my fate. For now.

Years of being fondly called a baeku by my darling brother finally came to use today.
I BAKED!
A cake!
Without my mamma’s help.

But yes, I called her and asked for instructions. I didn’t trust Betty Crocker too much.

And I must say, it is pretty fun. I think I’d like to bake a cake everyday. And the batter looked so sexy all brown and gooey I just wanted to drown in it.

So yeah, here I am, 21 years old and baked my first cake.

The baeku has evolved baby!