"Oh my God ! Not again!", my wise man screamed (almost) when I got the cream bowl out from the fridge. He knew it was time for me to process this cream into butter; something that he just hates to the core ! "With so much ghee available in the market or even with my mom sending you all those dubbas of ghee, don't know why you do this!!", began his monologue.
I got wondering, why do I do this, month-on-month. I must admit that this process calls for a lot of time, effort and electricity and the RoI is really miniscule (given the mess I make).
Guess, this process takes me back in time (which wont be back!) to the memories of my sweet home "Chaitanya" in Kalas (a village at the outskirts of Pune); that big courtyard where I enjoyed my childhood with my sis' playing "bhatukli" (my home-my kitchen kinda game that girls play) ; Lakshmi our cow, her shed that hosted her family of a 2 and maintained sparkling clean by Maushibai; those cycle trips my sis' & I used to make to fetch Lakshmi's fodder in the summers; my Ma, Papa and Babu (Grandpa) caring for Lakshmi and Lakshmi returning all the "seva" that they did with loads of milk.
The most vivid memory of those days is that of my Aaji (grandma) carefully boiling the milk; setting aside that really really thick cream and settling to whip it for butter every sunday. My sis' and I would loiter around her kitchen; only to settle in front of Aaji when she was ready with the butter (obviously with all that hope in our eyes :-) ). Aaji knew it all along and would say "haan... haat pudhe kar" ("yes... spread open your hand") and drop that dollop of butter !
Every time I get to whip that cream, I wish Lakshmi was still around and so was Aaji... wish the time could rewind and I go back to the time I enjoyed the most !
I got wondering, why do I do this, month-on-month. I must admit that this process calls for a lot of time, effort and electricity and the RoI is really miniscule (given the mess I make).
Guess, this process takes me back in time (which wont be back!) to the memories of my sweet home "Chaitanya" in Kalas (a village at the outskirts of Pune); that big courtyard where I enjoyed my childhood with my sis' playing "bhatukli" (my home-my kitchen kinda game that girls play) ; Lakshmi our cow, her shed that hosted her family of a 2 and maintained sparkling clean by Maushibai; those cycle trips my sis' & I used to make to fetch Lakshmi's fodder in the summers; my Ma, Papa and Babu (Grandpa) caring for Lakshmi and Lakshmi returning all the "seva" that they did with loads of milk.
The most vivid memory of those days is that of my Aaji (grandma) carefully boiling the milk; setting aside that really really thick cream and settling to whip it for butter every sunday. My sis' and I would loiter around her kitchen; only to settle in front of Aaji when she was ready with the butter (obviously with all that hope in our eyes :-) ). Aaji knew it all along and would say "haan... haat pudhe kar" ("yes... spread open your hand") and drop that dollop of butter !
Every time I get to whip that cream, I wish Lakshmi was still around and so was Aaji... wish the time could rewind and I go back to the time I enjoyed the most !
