When life comes a full circle…

About fifteen years ago, I began to pay attention to Amma talking to guests about Appa: ‘He is unable to eat food cooked by anyone else for a long time, you know? I know how to make things the way he likes it. I know not to make radish sambar the very next day after making rotis and chhole, because I know it will cause gastric discomfort to him.’

Later, I remember hearing my aunts say the same thing about their husbands – that their husbands are comfortable and happy eating only the food cooked by their wives. Food cooked by others would be eaten too, without complaint, but not with the husband’s heart in it.

I used to find this rather cute – husbands getting so used to their wives’ particular style of cooking that they missed it when it wasn’t available. I longed for that kind of familiarity with my husband’s palate, too.


The last few weeks have been quite busy for me, and I have been extremely held up with work and other things. There has hardly been time to cook properly, and the OH has mostly been eating out or at Amma’s or at my MIL’s place.

Two days back, I woke up on a lovely Saturday morning to him whispering in my ears: ‘I know you are busy, but can you please make something for me today? I am simply craving for the kind of food you cook.’

Both Amma and my MIL are fantastic cooks, but, apparently, the hubby had been missing the little, ‘different’ touches I add to the food I prepare. He had been missing the unique food tastes we have cultivated as a couple. In his words, ‘Even if I am eating outside, I keep thinking how my wife would have made this curry differently and more deliciously’. I could feel he meant it.

Feminism went for a toss. I was delighted.

Lemon rasam, aloo roast and a curry of methi leaves were promptly prepared on Saturday, served with steaming rice, and thoroughly enjoyed.


Life has, indeed, come a full circle.

50 thoughts on “When life comes a full circle…

  1. How did I miss this beautiful post! Thank goodness it showed up as one of the related posts in your new post now.

    I went Awwww!! multiple times now πŸ™‚ As I always say you both are such sweet sweet couple πŸ™‚

    S does it all the time with me, though he wouldnt be open about it πŸ™‚ I kind of remember a story now – when we were recently married, I was working with my MIL in kitchen while she was making veg biryani. S comes there all of a sudden and tells his mom that he would love it if I prepared the biryani instead of her. :Shock: So sweet my MIL is, let me handle it πŸ™‚

    I cant say the same about my dad though. Strangely complains abt amma’s food everytime he gets to taste my food or sister’s. Looks like, amma’s healthy version of cooking isnt that good for him πŸ˜€


  2. It’s so true for us too! I never realized how much The Techie got used to my cooking (experiments) until I went home for a month for something urgent. He had enough of eating out by one week. By the time I came back, he was thinnner and was looking more like his bachelor days! (And the house was a mess – But I was too sympathetic to complain πŸ˜‰ )


  3. It’s the same with me. Even though Mom cooks most of the times, I simply crave for the way Geet cooks. πŸ™‚
    I think this is a universal phenomenon. πŸ™‚
    And of course, the vice versa is also true. She loves it whenever I cook.


  4. I can vouch for this from the MIL’s point of view. My son/s extol the cooking abilties of their wives even of dishes that they loved me, their mother make earlier. Curiously instead of making me feel bad, it makes me smile gleefully. And as in your case, reverse is also true. The DIL loves some of the dishes the boy makes πŸ™‚


  5. You are one lucky lady πŸ™‚

    I guess its a long way to go for me, whenever I cook and it turns out a bit out of the mark, Zack will ‘beseech’ his mom to make it correctly the next time.

    Sigh 😐


  6. How sweet!!! I’m afraid my husband has never said such a thing to me πŸ™‚ But how sweet of him to have missed your cooking πŸ™‚ Can I come over one day to sample the aloo roast and lemon rasam….or wait….make it the undhiyo please!


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