Why I don’t belong in a kitchen.

Although my guilty pleasure is watching mukbangs on Youtube or bingeing on the Food Network channel on a Saturday night, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I cannot cook. The only times you’ll find me in the kitchen is raiding the fridge in the middle of the night on the hunt for sapid snacks.

According to Lorraine Pascale, “anything that goes in the oven is baking”, so with that being said, I took on the challenge of my first ever bake. No, not just some basic oven lasagne- I mean a real bake, a cake.

After a simple google search for the best yet easiest carrot cake recipes, I finally found one which was fit for me even though I just didn’t have a lot of the ingredients on that list and so, I switched things up a little:

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175g light muscavado sugar = 200g brown sugar (I don’t know what muscavado means)

140g grated carrot = an awful lot of hard work

100g raisins = NONE because who enjoys raisins in a cake?

1tsp bicarbonate of soda= 1tsp baking powder (I’m not technical in anyway)

1tsp cinnamon = 2tbs cinnamon to celebrate my Sri Lankan heritage

Everything else remains the same.

As I was doing this, I began to reminisce a song from my childhood. Stephanie from Lazytown sang “You gotta do the cooking by the book, you know you can’t be lazy; never use a messy recipe, the cake will end up crazy”. Well, I do hope Stephanie grew to her senses because adapting a recipe to my own needs DOES NOT make me lazy, and I definitely will not stick to the recipe because I am not a conforming individual and Stephanie should really just get out of my head and stop telling me what to do. Anyway, I digress. 

People often say that baking is easy since you whack everything into a bowl and it’s done. That is easier said than done. My sister peered inside my mixing bowl and said “You’re mixture’s split”. Since I didn’t know what that meant and I’ve done five more laps around the planet than her and have collected ever so much wisdom, I ignored her snarky comment and carried on. Nigella Lawson taught me how to grease my pan and lightly dust it with flour to stop the batter from sticking. So I did, less stylishly and more maddened than Lawson as by this point I realised why it had taken me 18 years to finally have the reason to use an oven. I don’t belong in the kitchen or have any interest in being in one. Long story short; I dusted the finished product in icing sugar (to cover the burnt bits) and presented a bog-standard looking carrot cake to my family.

CONCLUDING THOUGHTS: The perception of women having to “belong in a kitchen” died long ago, though there will always be people hinting about the concept to this day. I truly believe that in order to abolish this, all women must take their own fields of interest and exceed at it by taking full control. It doesn’t take a genius to say that I’m awful at cooking but only a fool will tell me that I am an awful woman because I cannot cook. I wish to exert my energy into passions of mine and stand down from the stereotypes that I have been labelled. 

Different. By Tallulah Stone

Me: an imaginist, a vivid wanderer. You could say perhaps, a narcissist.

I’ve always found myself different from others. Of course we’re all different from each other; unique is the word. But the ones around me, as a collective, are all the same. Same as each other but different from me.

Take my family for example. A wonderful, wonderful group of people; kind, gentle, generous. The adjectives could go on.  But, they are all the same. Doctors, engineers, nurses, teachers, an architect even. Then there are my friends; future doctors, teachers, engineers. Academics they are. A collection of academics. A collection of academics. 

And me? Well I’m a literary aficionado. Academics are all important to run the world, needless to say. But who is there to change minds, to change the way we view each other and to stop the crises of modern day. 

Me. Because I was not destined to fall in with the same crowd of academics. I’m different. Gifted perhaps. Gifted not with the power of words but with a mind that thinks differently. Differently.

Don’t even get me started on success. They want it all. A large house with beautifully furnished interiors and an impressive garden. The fanciest cars, the most luxurious holidays. All this for what? A small click and the picture’s taken and uploaded to the internet. To show off to the world their materialistic success. That’s how they find comfort; through likes and comments from other avatars who are hidden away behind the screens as if they are hypnotised.

1 like = 1 follow.

How wasteful. 

Do they truly believe that sharing an article of extreme poverty will solve the problem? Will watching a documentary on plastics in the ocean suddenly remove all the waste on beaches. If only 1 view meant 1kg of waste removed. You may say that awareness is spread. I’m sure it does but what will one do with the knowledge. Take action or bury the guilt within the depths of their garden?

And me? My success would be when I’m fulfilled. Fulfilled when the world no longer hungry, no longer needs my help. When boys and girls can be noticed as equals. Why isn’t it already equal?

Why do those in foreign continents want to impersonate the west in both colour and lavish lifestyle but not realise that girls and boys belong together.  

The west must take blame for sure. The west that we live in. The west which believes that feminism should even be a word. Why isn’t there a word for male equality?

And to all those who say ‘the future is female.’ No, the future is not female. Yes, women may thrive like we have never before but future is all of us moving forward. The future is all.

And when this is fixed, even if it’s long after my time, I will be successful. That’s what makes me different.