I cannot remember a single tadka in my mother’s kitchen that did not involve a handful of curry leaves going into hot oil first. They
Every year as the weather starts to shift, my grandmother would bring out a jar of homemade amla murabba and insist we all have a
My grandmother cooked almost everything in clay pots, dal, rice, even her pickles were stored in earthen jars. For years our family cooked mostly in
Every August, as Onam gets closer, my mind drifts straight back to my Kerala friend Meera’s kitchen, where I’d sit on a stool and watch
Growing up, breakfast at my Andhra friend’s house always meant one thing: a stack of green pesarattu sizzling straight off the tawa, served with a
A friend from Patna once told me that no restaurant version of litti chokha ever tastes quite as good as the one made over a
Growing up, the week before Raksha Bandhan always smelled like roasted besan in our house – my mother would stand at the stove for what
The first time I had dhokla was at a friend’s Gujarati wedding breakfast, and I remember being confused that something so light and fluffy was
Every festival season in my house, the sugar jar sits mostly untouched while the jaggery box gets refilled twice. My grandmother never really explained why
I used to think the rise in idli batter overnight was basically magic – one day it’s a flat, watery mix of rice and dal,
