Captain Jane COOK: 20 DAYS 8 MINS.

Pass on some pasta please:

8 mins. That’s all I needed to move from a woman-who-can’t-cook to a woman-who-can-cook. Sunfeast Pasta was an amazing discovery to me, when you have none of the cooking-woman’s traits, and your delirious mom left you for TWENTY days, in order to be with her romantic, solitary, loving, loveable and most importantly starved (for food and otherwise;)) husband in the Gulf, and left you scratching your head with a brother (B), more potently referred to as a hunger-monger.

B usually grits his teeth and gives the most obscene madman a run for his money, when even mom gives him anything remotely burnt, botched, bland or boggy.

If mom cannot be pardoned for her slightest culinary slips, I was going to be dead meat.
Dead meat reminded me of something- B was a carnivore. Chicken and chicks were the two most important things in his life.
B’s favorite saying: ‘If you can’t find me a sexy chick, I’ll turn gay.’

If I didn’t give him chicken, I’m sure he’d say, ‘If you can’t give me scrumptious chicken, I’ll turn into a cannibal, and eat you up.’

So I have
a)8 mins,
b)Sunfeast Pasta and Pasta Maker- Pizza style,
and
c)FEAR of being eaten up.

I was scared of B.
I would do anything to please B.
I just needed his nod of approval.

Without chicken at my disposal, I wanted to chicken out of cooking for him.

What else could I do?
Arey O Samba!
Arey, I don’t know how to make Sambar! (A south-Indian vegetable gravy)
Arey, I can teach him Samba, we could dance like ballroom experts, that would satisfy him- but he would only get hungrier then!!!!
Arey, I’ve heard of a Sushi-Samba in Chicago which serves a mix of Japanese, Brazilian and Peruvian cuisines, but you see, I had the money to fly him half way around the world (muhahahaha), but did I have the money to treat him free food at an expensive restaurant?- nahhh ;);)

B: I’m darn hungry. My stomach is groaning

(I came crashing down from my kitchidi of thoughts. I just needed to cook it up my scared soul and serve it down his craving food pipe )
I: Just give me 8 mins sweetheart.

Preparing the pasta:

1.I pulled out the ‘Chicken Manchurian’ savage left from our ravage binge last night. It was in good condition.
2.I shredded the three pieces of Chicken from the Chicken Manchurian.
3.I beat up two eggs, and scrambled them on a hot tawa, with lenient licks of Cheese Spread lacing the hot scrambled pieces.
4.I boiled the Pasta for around 5 mins, before emptying the Sauce maker- Pizza Ishtyle into the pan.
5.When everything boiled into a gooey broth, I flicked in the scrambled eggs, stirred the contents and covered the Pasta Pan with a lid.
6.Three minutes later, I poured out the hot and Pizza-flavored mixture onto a big silver plate.
7.I knew presentation mattered a great deal. I shaped the entire content into a star, lined the outer edges with fried capsicum, and added a dash of tomato sauce.

8.Voila.