I have an indifferent relationship with cooking. It wasn’t always this way. In fact, it began as a hate-bordering-on-indifference relationship, but over the years, it has mellowed into a simple lack of passion. Cooking and I have had a complicated journey together, and I’d like to share a few chapters of it.
Early Days of Cooking
In my twenties, as I stumbled through the basics of cooking while managing a home, one thing became clear: cooking demands planning. More often than not, I’d commit to a “serious cooking week” starting Monday, only to wake up and discover I’d forgotten to soak lentils, buy the required vegetable for the planned recipe, or account for ingredients that mysteriously disappeared from the fridge. It taught me more about logistics than the joy of culinary creativity.
Cooking and Chemistry
Back in school, I disliked chemistry. I couldn’t understand why elements needed specific conditions—temperature, catalysts, and the like—to combine. Why couldn’t hydrogen and oxygen just decide to make water, the way integers simply add up?
Cooking felt just as finicky. For example, why can’t adding onions and tomatoes be commutative? (For those who’ve forgotten: in mathematics, commutative operations yield the same result regardless of the order. a + b = b + a.) For me, onions + tomatoes = tomatoes + onions. I often toss them in the pan together, not caring if the onions brown first. In the morning rush, efficiency trumps precision. Judge me if you will, but I’ve embraced my chaotic approach to the chemistry of cooking.
Cooking and Brushing
For someone as meticulous in programming (software) as I am, my indifference to the details of cooking surprises even me. Cooking, for me, is like brushing my teeth—necessary, dutiful, and done with the same level of enthusiasm. If I were to apply the “Eat the Frog” productivity motto to my life, cooking would be my frog. I tackle it first thing in the morning, even on weekends, to rid myself of the day’s most dreaded task.
In my early cooking days, I even woke up at 5:30 a.m. on Sundays to get it over with. Thankfully, I’ve relaxed my routines since then.
Cooking in Social Circles
In social gatherings, when conversations drift toward recipes, I feel like an outsider. For the longest time, I believed most people disliked cooking. To my dismay, I discovered that I was the odd one out. I often excused myself to the bathroom when recipes dominated the discussion, only to return and find the topic still alive and well.
Why do people love to talk about cooking? Aren’t there thousands of other topics under the sun worth discussing? Perhaps it’s because cooking is universal—it’s an activity that connects people across cultures, evokes nostalgia, and sparks creativity. For some, it’s a passion; for others, a survival skill. But for those of us who find it more of a chore, it’s still puzzling how it manages to dominate conversations.
The Cooking Timetable
To ease the agony, to facilitate the weekly shopping and to ensure balanced meals for my family, I created a weekly cooking timetable. Mondays are for pulao or variety rice, Tuesdays for sambar rice, and so on. It’s so ingrained in my family’s routine that serving sambar on a Monday causes confusion—it must be Tuesday, right?
This system has streamlined grocery shopping and meal prep, but it also highlights how far removed I am from the nostalgia of cooking fresh, local and seasonal vegetables daily, like the women from my childhood did. Times have changed, and so have I.
The Spouse who loves Cooking
My husband’s love for cooking is the perfect foil to my indifference. He immerses himself in Ranveer Brar‘s cooking videos, books like Krish Ashok‘s Masala Lab and culinary experiments. Unfortunately, his late-night tendencies clash with the morning madness, leaving me to shoulder the responsibility of cooking on school days. It’s an amusing dynamic: he loves cooking but lacks the time, while I lack the love but make the time. That said, I truly cherish the relaxing days when he enthusiastically dives into one of his culinary experiments, leaving me free to sit back on the couch with a good book in hand.
Reframing my Perspective
For years, I labeled myself a “bad cook” who hated the task. But lately, I’ve realized this sweeping statement doesn’t do justice to the reality. Today, I see myself as a competent cook with a limited repertoire, a knack for adaptation, and a strong focus on efficiency.
Years ago, I remember being baffled when a friend critiqued a chef for not waiting another whistle on the pressure cooker for the peas in a dish. Now, to my surprise, I find myself noticing such details—not because of newfound passion, but perhaps due to experience.
I’ve come to understand that cooking, much like any skill, takes time to master. Back then, I wasn’t a bad cook—I was simply inexperienced. Reframing it this way shifted my perspective and prompted me to reflect on why I thought I hated cooking. I realized that my struggles were less about incompetence and more about inexperience and competing priorities. As my husband once wisely said, “First, start enjoying eating. Then you’ll automatically enjoy cooking.” So now, I’m on a new quest: learning how to enjoy eating.
Cooking may never be my passion, but we’ve reached a truce. That’s progress, isn’t it?
What kind of relationship do you share with Cooking? Share your thoughts in the comments.
Photo Courtesy: “saute-onions-peppers” by Rebecca E. Parsons/Cre8Tiva is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
