Food has played a pivotal part in my life. I grew up watching my grandmother, mother and father rustle up ambrosiac dishes in the kitchen and I knew that someday I would find myself holding a ladle over a bubbling pot too.
Our family gave a lot of importance to food and discussing the next day’s menu would take up nearly the whole evening everyday. Coming from a clan that literally obsesses over food, it was only natural for me to start cooking the minute I turned 20… but that is not how the story went. Apart from baking midnight chocolate cakes in the microwave and cooking Shasliks in my mother’s OTG (which found its only fans in her and my sister), my tryst with cooking was largely ruled by my wavering moods. And that is when I found myself married and away from my comfort zone.
Trying to make the most of my situation, I began cooking for my husband as a part of my everyday chores. My culinary experiments soon turned from an unavoidable task to a full-fledged passion the minute I put my first (and what turned out to be a rather dry) chocolate cake into the oven to bake.
A year and thirty random food posts later, I find myself invoking the spirits of my grandmother and father regularly in the kitchen. As for my mother, she is on my advisory board and we spend nearly all our phone time discussing food, recipes and what to make. I get most of my inspirations from her and my biggest dream is to cook for my mum, another equally awesome chef: my other mother (the in-law) and my completely foodie sister.