The Thing called COOKING-2

As I was wracking my mind to choose a recipe to be tried, I saw the leftover parathas kept on the ledge. There were some five in the bowl. Slightly thick but mushy. Some were a bit more doughy than I expected. I chose two which were still crispy in the edges and comparatively thin of course to make the dish which every amateur would try— Chilli parotta! The very thought made my mouth water.

I didn't disclose that to my mom as she would at once reject that without any consideration. I headed to the cupboard, picked up the needed cutlery then went to the refrigerator for the ingredients. After all cooking is not entirely new to me. I have already tried my hands in making desserts ranging from falooda to random "diet burfies" (taste is immaterial though). Hence I was not in need of my mom's assistance or resistance. Besides, having mothers around while cooking is life-threatening (like tackling a lion in its den). 

So I went to my ultimate refuge, YouTube. Typed the name of the dish. Taddaa... came numerous results. Being incredibly lazy, I taped on the shortest of all the videos and played it. It went on for almost five minutes. By the end of the fifth minute, I stood with sheer confidence that I could replicate what I saw on the screen,  on plate.

Now the execution part. Nothing much. Had to chop some garlic cloves, onions and tomatoes, to pick some rinsed coriander leaves and to gather the needed spices. 

There I went. I kept my most favourite tava on the burner and was about to turn on the flame. By them came my mom's shriek....

(To be continued...)