I think whoever told me that I knew how to cook was just pulling my leg. Wait until you taste my mom's food! She is just so good at it. Her culinary skills are nothing short of impeccable. Cooking seems to be her cup of tea. I am not surprised, though. I mean, she spends a decade in the kitchen preparing dinner for us. She likes her food fresh, and so do we.
Every evening after coming straight from work, she gets as busy as a bee in the kitchen. First, she cleans her hands and goes straight to the task at hand. Cleanliness, she says, is always next to godliness. Preparation of the spices takes nearly half of the entire cooking time. She prepares everything. From onions, broccoli, cucumber, the list is endless. She likes everything ready before she starts cooking just so that everything comes out perfect. Killing two birds with one stone is not her way of doing things. She likes them organized, one after the other. She makes the spices look like a small garden of roses, very colorful. From the red tomatoes, orange carrots, purple onions to the white garlic. Everything just looks fantastic. I have to pull up my socks if I am to be half as good as she is.
The vegetables follow next on the list. She thoroughly cleans them, not once, not twice but three times, just to ensure that they pass all the cleanliness tests. Chopped into small pieces, they are then left to drip. The ball gets rolling, and now it's time for the main session of the evening. It doesn't take long before an aroma, sweet enough to tempt even my dad to rush to the kitchen, comes from the kitchen. It must be the spices. The smell is ever sufficient to change the mood of each one of us in the house. We suddenly become as happy as a clam, always waiting for that moment when we get to have a taste of a meal prepared with love. It soon gets to preparing the stew, and we all can't help but salivate. We usually run out of patience, waiting for the food to get to the table. The aroma filling the house makes the place unbearable to stay. She can be heard in the kitchen fighting with the utensils, making sure that the rest of the meal is ready. The sound of the gas cooker can be heard diminishing, and this serves as an indication that all is good to go. The noise of the blender then permeates the silence; it must be the juice. She knows that we like it when our meals go hand-in-hand with juice blended from fresh fruits. We are patiently waiting for her to bring the dishes to the dining room so that we can give the hunger we have some rest.
When the food gets to the table, it's all smiles. It's now time, that time when we get to the best moment of our evenings. After serving each one of us, we give our tongues and stomach the long-awaited satisfaction. The taste is always out of this world! The food is always tasty and meets every of our expectations. She never disappoints. She sure knows a perfect way into our hearts.
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