K ben at work
For two solid years, my kitchen had been ruled by Her Highness K Ben—our cook. Reliable? Mostly.
Efficient? Yes. Did she treat my kitchen like her queendom? Absolutely! And I, the lady of the house, had graciously surrendered… until now.
This year, we decided to host our annual family get-together at our home. Yes, OUR home! A first in decades, because earlier, we always met at resorts or my father-in-law’s place. But now, with kids grown up, all of us retired and fabulously free, RB and I thought, "Why not turn our house into a party palace?"
Eight adults. Four days. Post-Holi. All beautifully planned, with meal menus jotted down in my trusty diary (black and white, no room for surprises). We had a WhatsApp group buzzing with plans, excitement, and jokes. Everything was going fine—until the bomb dropped.
K Ben informed me, very casually, "Madam, I’ll be back on 18th March," after Holi vacations.
Me: “All good, plenty of time.”
Reality: She did NOT come on the 18th. Or the 19th. I called—phone switched off. That’s it. I knew I had been royally ditched. No show. No sorry. Just silence.
Now, I had a house full of guests and zero help. What did I do? I channelled my inner Annapurna, tied my dupatta tight, and got to work.
Day 1 Crisis Management Menu:
-
Breakfast: Idli, sambhar & poha. (South India ka swag!)
-
Lunch: Good ol’ kadhi-chawal. My 40 years of marriage came in handy—everyone’s taste was known territory.
-
Dinner: A happy chaos in the kitchen with everyone pitching in. Laughter, chopping, gossip, and rotis flying—who needed a cook?
Day 2: Adventure Mode
-
We had an early start to Modhera Sun Temple, so we made aloo puri for breakfast (because carbs are love) and packed munchies galore.
-
Lunch: Eaten outdoors with bhelpuri made under the sun. Five-star views, zero-star fuss. And some snackish meal at Shanku's Water Park.
-
Dinner: My neighbourhood angel, Priyanka, our home-chef friend, took over. Hallelujah! Hot deliciousness delivered to the doorstep.
Day 3: River Cruise & Realisations
-
Breakfast: Again, outsourced to Priyanka because vacation = chill mode ON.
-
Lunch: On the Sabarmati river cruise. Fancy? You bet.
-
Dinner: Simple home-style pulao, made with love (and less ghee).
By this time, I had already written the rustication letter in my mind for K Ben. And guess what? I actually did it. With zero guilt. In fact, I felt reborn.
You see, when you’re paying someone, you sometimes feel compelled to create extra work for them. And then you get food that’s overcooked, over-oiled, over-spiced, and never on your timeline. Dinner at 8 PM? Sorry, K Ben wants to leave by 7. Evening walk? Cancelled because Ben is coming. Ugh.
Now? Freedom tastes like home-cooked chutneys, different and new snacks or sometimes even a khichdi on your own schedule.
RB and I have started cooking together. We chop, stir, laugh, and recreate our old favourites. We eat when we’re hungry, not when the reheated sabzi says so. Oil consumption? Halved. Satisfaction? Doubled. And bonus—I get my daily activity just by moving around in the kitchen. Who needs a treadmill?
So here I am—reclaiming my kitchen, reclaiming my life, and realising that the best masala is made with love, not dependency.
If you're on the fence about letting go of a helper who’s more stress than support, this is your sign.
And just when I thought I had found freedom in food, I also uncovered some unexpected truths…
Since I had a camera installed in the kitchen (a decision I now thank my stars for), after a month of K Ben’s absence, I checked the CCTV footage. Let me tell you, I was shocked! My consumption of ingredients—oil, spices, even rice—was almost halved. But what I saw on camera opened my eyes to things I can't even describe fully. Let's just say, some practices were happening that no one should ever tolerate in their kitchen. It's funny, but it reminded me of that disturbing news where a cook was jailed for kneading dough with her urine. And then, there’s the story my old friend Neelam shared. One evening, as her cook worked silently in the kitchen, there was an eerie quiet, no noise, no chopping, no sizzling. Curious, Neelam peeked in only to find her cook filling her pockets with dry fruits! She froze. After the cook left, Neelam shared the incident with her mom. I’m not saying all cooks are like this, but it’s a cautionary tale for anyone hiring help. Always keep your eyes open and trust your instincts. You might not always get what you bargained for.
Caution Before Hiring a Cook:
-
Watchful Eyes: Whether it's through cameras or simply being present in the kitchen, keep an eye on what’s happening when help is around.
-
Communication is Key: Be clear about your expectations—this avoids misunderstandings later.
-
Trust, but Verify: Trust your help, but always check the quality of what you’re getting. It’s your home, your food, your health.
-
Check References: Always speak to someone who has worked with them before hiring.
-
Don’t Overlook Red Flags: If something feels off, it’s probably best to move on before things get out of hand.
If you are looking for interesting and effective content on mental health, parenting, lifestyle, reviews, etc, think of subscribing to my other blog - Neerja's Musings.
Instagram | Facebook | YouTube |Twitter |Podcast
I have written 3 solo books and 3 anthologies. You can buy my books on Amazon. If you are on Kindle Unlimited, you can read them for free. Pls, do check and share your reviews.
Comments
Post a Comment