Young Pavan recently asked on a discussion on brownies on Finely Chopped, “is it possible to make brownies at home? On the microwave? Has anyone tried?”
This reminded me of a story of something which happened once upon a time in a city called Mumbai.
There was a young girl who was born in Mumbai. She was the baby of the family and was used to having the world wait on her. Her wish was the command of all around. The only time she lifted a spoon was to have a bite of chocolate ice cream. Carefree as a Princess, she was brought up to be.
This little princess met a young man from a land far away. He was a new kid in town who managed to win her hand over prawn fried rice, beef chilly and chocolate brownies at Leopolds.
The princess left her palace and her Five Gardens to marry the young man. And they lived in a tiny house after an even tinier marriage.
That’s when the reality of life kicked in. They loved to eat. They ate out every night of their courtship and were left with an account balance as round as the biggest of rasgullas. Loan EMIs, rents and maids to be paid became the order of the day. Eating out. What was that?
So life went on till one day the Princess remembered the young man’s love for the brownie at Leopold’s. She did the math and ruled out a trip to Colaba. She scoured the world wide web instead and downloaded the recipe for microwave chocolate brownies and took a print out on a bright yellow page.
Out she ran from her office and shopped for cocoa, butter, flour, milk and other stuff which we will never know about. She came home with her shopping bags and marched towards the microwave.
A few hours later he rang the bell after a long day at work. Only to see her sobbing quietly in the four feet by two feet passage they called their kitchen.
He asked ‘what happened’ as he prepared to apologise for whatever it was that made her cry. No questions asked. No strings attached.
She looked at the micro and sobbed even more. He squeezed past her and opened the micro, only to find shattered glass all over.
That was her first attempt at a brownie that evening.
He heard her story. Helped her clean up. Said, “give it another shot, I am in no hurry”. He switched on the telly. Ignoring the hungry mice that ran all over his stomach.
A while later she surfaced again into the four feet by four feet room they called their drawing room. And at dinner time, their dining room.
She proudly held a plate with four brownies of indeterminate shape arranged on them.
He took a bite and gave a big, happy, smile of approval, bliss and contentment.
And finally her day was made.
Today if you ask him for the recipe of a microwave brownie, you are likely to get an empty stare.
But ask him for the recipe of a microwave soft centred cookie of indeterminate shape and he will dig up her file of recipes from eight years back and pull out the yellow print out she used that night.
The End
