The Great Bread Tragedy
(A tale of ambition, melted plastic, and emotional damage.)
Have you ever had a dream? A beautiful, wholesome dream? A dream so pure, so noble, that you could already smell success?
Yeah. We had that.
And then we made bread.
The Master Plan
One fine day, my brother and I decided to level up in our cooking journey. Enough with the small wins. Enough with noodles and Maggi. It was time to conquer a real challenge.
🥖 Homemade Wheat Bread.
Because we were on a health kick (read: had watched one too many food documentaries about store-bought bread being evil).
Like every overenthusiastic beginner, we did what we do best—watched way too many YouTube videos (this time 12-15 videos). Experts kneading dough like it was an art form, golden loaves rising to perfection... It looked so simple, attractive and mesmerizing.
We had visions of pulling out a fresh, bakery-level loaf from the oven, tearing it apart with our bare hands, and taking that first heavenly bite.
What could go wrong?
The Preparation – So Far, So Good
We ordered everything. Flour, yeast, eggs—the whole shebang. And this time, we waited for the delivery person like baby birds waiting for their first meal.
Ding dong! Delivery Bhai, our hero, had arrived.
We took our ingredients, set the mood with music (Pink Sweat$ – "At My Worst" because we were feeling classy and international), and got to work.
Step by step, we followed the video like it was a sacred text.
✅ Carefully measured the yeast and mixed it with warm water.
✅ Measured the flour with the precision of scientists in a lab.
✅ Kneaded the dough like it owed us money.
✅ Let it rest to rise, feeling like proud parents.
It was perfect.
At least, we thought it was.
The Mistake – A Decision That Changed Our Lives
Now, our oven had one clear instruction: "DO NOT PUT METAL INSIDE."
So what did our highly intelligent brains decide?
"Let’s use a BIG, STRONG Tupperware instead."
Because, obviously, Tupperware can handle anything, right? It holds food. It goes in the fridge. It’s unbreakable and specifically mentioned its microwave safe. What could possibly go wrong?
We shaped our dough, placed it inside our best, most durable plastic container, and slid it into the oven.
This was it. The moment of truth.
20 Minutes Later… A Crime Scene
Mom was casually walking through the kitchen when we suddenly heard it.
💀 A scream. A real, horror-movie scream. 💀
"WHAT IS THAT?!"
We RAN.
And there it was—our dream, destroyed.
The Tupperware? A sad, melted puddle.
The bread? Sitting in the middle of the disaster, less than half-cooked, looking betrayed.
The oven? Possibly traumatized forever.
For exactly 30 seconds, no one spoke.
Then my brother, ever the philosopher, broke the silence:
"Well… at least now we know Tupperware melts."
The Aftermath – Emotional Damage
Since that day, I have never attempted to make bread again.
It’s a phobia now. A genuine, deep-rooted fear.
Maybe someday, I’ll try again. Maybe.
But that day is not today.
The Almost End… But Not Quite
We sat in silent shock for three hours. Questioning everything. Re-evaluating life.
And just when we were about to quit cooking forever, when it felt like maybe this hobby wasn't for us...
We stood up.
We turned on Netflix.
We ate store-bought bread like traitors.
And then, we made a decision.
"NOT TODAY."
Failure was not the end.
The dream was not dead.
We would cook again.
Just… maybe not bread. Ever.
Moral of the Story: Science says plastic melts. Believe science.
🎭 The End. 🎭 (For now.)
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