Here you go, mim.
Picture this. Its New Jersey. With great difficulty we have found an apartment which is:
1. Walking distance to the train station
2. Affordable and
3. Has only a minimum number of creepos in the complex
So what if the trash-can was about 0.5 miles away? And the laundry room reminded me of ghost stories of yore? So what? Anyway I was not living there. My husband was. (DON'T tell me how weird that sounds, I know, I know).
Innocently I went over one weekend and we agreed, after discussion, that we should cook and eat at home. He scrounged around in his fridge and came up with a .. mmm.. certain vegetable. And of course, enough beer. The mmm.. vegetable was cut, rice and dhal (moong, if you must ask) were washed, the rice cooker was set up, and the pressure cooker goaded into the task it must often perform.
As an aside, in my defense, I always hated that pressure cooker. It was small, it was aluminum (see me drop the 'i' woo hoo). I dislike that material of cooker, generally preferring stainless steel. This one was especially hateful because it was black on the inside. I also hate circulon, if anyone is interested. Anyway.
So we switched on some music, twisted off the tops of some beers, straightened out the futon (placed conveniently about 1 m from the electric stove, this was a studio apartment of sorts, the 'kitchen' and the 'living room' were one married unit), and were, well, talking.
Ka Boom Crash Pssh Shakalaka
The vegetable was cabbage. I had followed mother in law's diktak that dhal should never be cooked without turmeric in it. Cabbage Moongdhal Turmeric. Splattered all over the tiny apartment.
The smell was something astonishing.
I still hate that cooker. It had evil designs from the beginning, I tell you. My fingers still smell of that .. that... we spent hours trying to clean it up. Fuck, we must have used up a roll of kitchen towels. And then had to do that walk to the garbage dump place (skunks ran away from us, believe me).
And soon after that, we moved.
(I think one should tag Perakath to re-narrate the story related to eggs, fungus, and electric water kettles.)
