Delicious World of Chefette Spicy

formerly Ladles and High Heels


H4 on my mind

Back home, we were living people, not just an alpha-numeric visa-code put together. We had lives, we had education and professions that kept us on our toes. We had dreams of feeling worthy all the time while keeping in sync with the social demands. Perhaps that’s what found us open to marriage and family duties. Not all of us seeked out NRI men from the USA but out of love, commitment and sometimes pressure, we signed up for the ride.

People back home judge us. They think it was our wild dream to live in the land of a million opportunities and we took the easy way out by getting married to a semi-Americanised, big brand wearing professional. Oh, they would be surprised when they toss the coin and notice the other side. As I said, we had a fulfilling life back at home and if we had had a choice to be married to the same man and live on in our motherland, we would have agreed to it only readily.

Instead, we have a H4 prefixed to our identity and spend our daytime surfing between Food Network and brushing off dust from the coffee table. We are far away from our indulgent parents and parents-in-law who are either waiting to dote on us or preparing to criticize us. And amidst all the transition, we wonder why our identities ditched us in the cold.

The climate is another thing. We hate the cold, we just try to convince ourselves that wearing a coat and slipping on those boots were our longtime dream. We fool ourselves into thinking that New Delhi is nearly as cold as Washington DC  in winter and that the eclectic cuisines are hard to come across in India. We put our country down ignorantly while we know somewhere in our sub-conscience that we do that only to make ourselves feel better.

We know our next generation has a beautiful future in India, that the country is developing. In fact, for some reason, that is the only thing on my mind when I try to toss a Rava Dosa on a flat Dosa Tawa (instead of the concave one I am used to back at home). Yet we hold on, for we are strong, we are married and we have wonderful men who come home to us every evening with stories about Mandys, Sallys and Peters. We may still be looking for our identity, scouring in search of that one soul who would have a big enough heart to give us at least an internship while we try our best to ignore the judgmental comments from our India-based friends.

We try to believe it is worth all the mental strain. If it is worth it…



A fat girl confession

Lets admit it. 90% the world’s population wants to be thin. The ramp walkers to women on infomercials, they all look slim, wear their clothes well and don’t wonder about that extra pound of muffin waist sticking out. No wonder, beauty and clothing lines go huge on corsets and angled cuts to give the illusion of being thin.

I have always been on the plump side all my life. While I did look cute as a little kid, with rosy cheeks and pudgy baby fingers, I had a very difficult time coming to terms with my size. Being surrounded by skinny friends did not make me feel any better. While I used to spend more than half hour into picking my clothes and trying them on just to make sure I don’t look like a cup cake, I thought my friends had it easy. I have always been a perfectionist when we talk about dressing.

I have my own sense of style and I have my clothes fit me right, hence the extra minutes I spent at dressing up did not bother me. There was a short period in my life when I did lose a lot of weight and got to a size I not only loved but also felt sexy in. Gymming or other modes of working out did not do the trick. I fell ill. My medications curbed my appetite and hence helped me shed my pounds fast.  What did disturb me was the way people I know emphasized on their belief that I looked better chubby.May be  I do, I still don’t really know. And fashion is supposed to have made things easy for people like me.

There is a whole range of options for plus sized women and there are those easy ways out like cuts, colors and size of prints on clothes. While we do embrace these trends with open arms and try to incorporate them into our shopping escapades, some people, like me, do still wish for slimmer waists and thinner arms. What is it that makes us desire those <5 sizes? It cannot just be those models on the ramps, print advertisements and actresses at awards. It cannot be the lack of choice is clothing, if Dressbarn is anything to go by (the website sucks but the stores are awesome)

I know, I know, I am far away from the whole plus size phase of life, measuring 8/10 dress-wise. But does it mean I can’t feel huge?


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Call me delusional but I can hear my invisible audience laughing. Laughing hysterically at my total lack of ability to keep up my resolution. I did say I was going to write everyday, but in my defense, I have been swamped with other things like viral infections and non-blog writing.

The Atlanta trip was lovely, met friends, had cake, partied toddler style and ended up in Dulles very late on Sunday night to be greeted by incessant rains. The husband fell ill immediately (talk about weak resistance!) and I was busy pampering him for nearly a week. He is up and active now, thanks for asking.

But now, I am back on track, ready to write and give you, my invisible lovelies, something to scroll through. How does that sound?

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Reality Check

I know, I know. I haven’t really kept up with the complete name of my blog yet. I mean, with a name like Ladles and High Heels, the content intended is pretty straight forward: it should be about food and fashion. While they are my two favorite things in the world, you have to excuse me. I find it pretty hard to trash the lethargy and actually keep the blog updated.

I will make a promise now. I shall write one post a day and I shall alternate between food and fashion. While the latter is going to prove to be a challenge, I will not quit. The former is an easy route and I am jumping of glee because of that. As I mix Food Network and E! (two channels I am a regular at, being home all the time and all that), lets hope I churn out some readable content. So here is to ladlesandhighheels. Hurray!