Getting started with a completely new way of life can be hard. New routines, new faces and new roads can all be a bit scary in those first few days. I'm sure there are some people who can ease themselves into multiple lives without a care in the world, but for me fitting in took some time. And the strangest thing has helped me through it — cooking.
I’ve always been a food fanatic, watching countless videos of Nigella and Gordon cooking up food that wouldn’t be allowed near any self-respecting Malayalee home. I learnt, hypothetically of course, to cook minestrone and baked potatoes and pasta with truffle oil. I learnt how to poach eggs, why quinoa was cool, and even how to make baklava. It was a random hobby, something I did to take a break from the monotony of studying. And somehow, that obsession helped save myself from the fogginess of my initial days in Vancouver, Canada.
It started, as most great things have, from desperation. Unable to tolerate another bowl of cereal, I tentatively entered the kitchen. To my utter surprise I found myself making French toast, complete with cinnamon and some vanilla essence that I found on the shelf. It was as if hours of watching cooking videos had somehow translated into actual skills, resulting in absolutely-edible-maybe-even-tasty French toast. And to top it off, quite literally, I created what my brain recognised as a blueberry coulis (apparently I knew such terminology) with blueberry jam and maple syrup. And voila, I had my best meal in days together.
Now, this may seem weird, but the ability to cook food like the ‘natives’ somehow helps you feel more at home. You start to believe that adapting to this new environment is not impossible, and the minestrone soup you just made feels like the first step towards it. Things are no longer completely strange, and your days have a bit more of a structure. I would wake up planning breakfast, make a small sandwich for lunch, and come back home to a nice cup of coffee. Then I would check the fridge, pick out the about-to-expire items, and whip up dinner while listening to my favourite songs.
My crowning moment actually came when I made a perfect poached egg, perched it on top of an avocado toast, and cut into the ooey-gooey mess. I’m not kidding when I tell you that I danced around the kitchen — my initiation into the North American way of life was complete!
And while I do admit to having occasional dosa and butter chicken cravings, trying to cook this food has given me a footing into what was until now a completely foreign and alien way of life. An anthropologist would probably point out that food, being an integral part of any culture, has the ability to translate into acceptance, belonging and even understanding. I wouldn’t know about that, but what cooking has done is to help me ease myself into independence and a new environment.
Trust me when I say it’s easier than learning to clean kitchens or manage your finances.
parvathi.mad96@gmail.com
