Light Hearted

Cooking is a beautiful art form—or so they say. For some of us, it’s more of a creative battlefield, where the spoils of war (literally, the spoiled food) often lead to solo ownership. In our household, there’s an unspoken rule: if you mess it up, you clean it up (with your stomach).

Take the other day, for instance. Vani, my wife, was casually watching a YouTube video about making payasam—a sweet, velvety Indian dessert. Seeing her engrossed in the video, I felt inspired. Why wait for her to finish watching? I thought. I had all the ingredients; I had the urge for sweet; I had… overconfidence.

Fast forward 30 minutes, and there I was, standing over a pot of payasam with a tiny hint of burnt aroma wafting through the kitchen. Not burnt-burnt, I told myself. Just a little “smoky.” But to Vani, the discerning dessert connoisseur, it was a no-go. And thus, the unspoken rule kicked in: I was now the sole proprietor of my slightly charred creation. Into the fridge it went, where it would wait patiently for me to slowly consume it over the coming days.

The Kitchen’s Spirit of Individualism

This isn’t the first time such culinary independence has graced our kitchen. If I cook something and it doesn’t turn out perfect, it’s immediately a “me problem.” Same goes for groceries bought on a whim. For example, if I buy avocados with guacamole dreams in mind, and Vani’s not in the mood, guess who’s eating avocado toast for three days straight? Conversely, if she overestimates our household’s banana consumption, she’s left Googling recipes for banana bread because I’m not touching those mushy things.

We both firmly believe in the mantra: Thou shalt not waste food. But when it’s just the two of us, finishing off something subpar becomes a bit of a battle of wills. Honestly, it’s easier when the kids are home. They’re more than happy to help—less out of sympathy and more because they haven’t yet developed the finely tuned aversion to slightly burnt food.

Culinary Lessons… and Laughs

This whole dynamic isn’t without its silver lining. For one, it keeps us mindful of food waste. It’s also a reminder that mistakes are part of life, and sometimes, owning up to them means eating slightly burnt payasam one spoonful at a time. But it also begs the question: Are all couples like this?

Do other households have similar rules of culinary accountability? Or is it a free-for-all where everyone suffers together when something goes wrong? I’d love to know if there’s another couple out there playing the same game of “You spoil it, you own it.”

A Message Wrapped in Humor

Jokes aside, this is a fun reminder about the value of teamwork and compromise in a relationship. Yes, we tease each other mercilessly when someone messes up (because what’s a marriage without good-natured ribbing?), but we also appreciate the effort that goes into cooking, grocery shopping, and avoiding waste.

Next time you’re faced with a culinary mishap, remember: the fridge may hold your mistakes, but the laughter they bring can be pretty sweet too—burnt payasam and all.

So, what’s your “you spoil it, you own it” story? Share it—I could use the company in this club!