Keep Calm and Bake on

Disha put on her apron and surveyed the kitchen. It was Diwali and this was one of the few times of the year she put on her baking gloves and cooked a delectable meal for Himanshu. She looked back into the living room to see what he was doing. Ah! As usual, he was curled up on the sofa, reading with great concentration - a book. Non-fiction. His glasses perched on his nose, rigid and suave. She knew this pose by heart; he loved reading and he had the ability to get lost in what he was reading, cutting off the entire world for hours at a time. This was his space, the one he cherished, and rarely did he let her into it. But she knew her baking would lift him out of this stupor and propel him forward.

Baking gloves on. Hair tied loosely in a bun. Coffee mug on the side. After all, functioning effectively without coffee was always a no-no. She was ready.

She would be baking different kinds of desserts, all chocolately of course! She wanted to add delicacy and ecstasy to the Diwali lights. She wanted to cook up something exotic, all tinged with the magical ingredients which made life into savory bliss.

She was making caramel and banoffee pie, which was good enough to lash up the right amount of frenzy, topped with whipped cream and made with raisins. This had in the past, turned Himanshu from a book-lover to a foodie! Well, almost! She loved the look in his eyes when he would taste her good-looking as well as yummy food. He lived in the moments, and that was rare for him. He became greedy for more, and that was even rarer for him! Crusty longing filled his eyes, and he would plead for more, whilst smiling that once-in-a-melting-moment smile. He was the rare epitome of a man who savored his wife’s baking, and was tinged with the default mechanism of longing for more.

It was one thing to indulge in chocolate caramel sea tarts and then again, it was another to indulge in his wife’s tarts. Ah, the crisp, fluffy feeling of melt-in-the-mouth perfection! Ah, the source of infinite plastic wisdom! Ah, the sources of all things cool, beautiful, and fleetingly zesty! White chocolate mousse, melted butter, chilled milk, and the works! This was beyond delectable!

Thirdly, she was making classic salted caramel, luscious milk cream caramel with a touch of pristine sea salt which was crafted to an artisanal recipe befitting the most discerning palate. Her husband’s! After all, he was so choosy when it came to food, and especially with regards to her desserts. She knew how to tantalizingly take her time in making these assorted delicacies, teasing his patience, and warming up to him in a sweet, subtle way. He loved to taste the flavours, bursting with colours and just the right proportion of all ingredients.

Baking was her exclusive love, the kind of things which was owner’s envy, neighbor’s pride. She reveled in baking. It was her art, her science, and everything in between. It was her salvation, her road to perdition, her claim to fame. She knew how it felt to blend the perfect recipe, the harmony between sweet and bitter, luscious and luminous, melting and delectable. She knew how to turn her husband into inchoate longing. And that was the ebst feeling ever.

“It’s ready!” she called out finally, when the clock had already struck ten. Three hours of being in the kitchen should yield some masterful results. Should yield whatever they were both searching. Chocolate. Desserts. Just euphemisms in their quest fro something bigger than themselves.

As Himanshu sat at the table, his eyes were locked with Disha’s. He loved the way she surveyed everything with an exacting and calm demeanour, as if measuring the time it would take him to lose control which he had so carefully cultivated and become this energetic soul, who would do anything to have a second bite.

He had forgotten there is a physicality is not wanting to offend. Sweet the feeling of dececy flooding him now, akin to what it must be like to drink the sweet nectar of life. The beak of the hummingbird entering the corolla. That rich. That sweet. Highly underrated in the world of desserts, he thoughts. He took a bite and smiled.

“Perfect!”he murmered, and he was not lying. Her cooking was always delicious and perfect. Redemptive.

“Can I have a second helping?”he murmered.

‘Only if your promise me that after this, we shall watch my favourite television show together and cuddle for hours afterwards.”

“Done.” The words left his mouth before her sentence could be completed. And this time, she smiled.