Many years ago, on a cool summer’s day in Ootacamund, my family and I were lunching at our favourite restaurant. The restaurantās sumptuous wood-panelled interiors were as familiar…
These are sweet, delicate five-ingredient cookies, akin to the meltaway kind made with confectionersā sugar. Find the recipe here.
The very first solid food my mother fed me as a baby in our southern India household was mashed-up rice mixed with a little ghee. This set the…
āIf itās not local, seasonal, and organic,ā I grandly declared five years ago, āitās not worth buying.ā I sometimes think back to that moment, to past me who…
My grandmother was an amazing cook who could turn her hand to almost anything, provided it fell under the broad traditional cooking umbrella that she felt inherently comfortable…
I kept my unipolar depression a secret for years. My reasoning: people could not see that I was ill, so they would not believe that I was actually…
Not everyone instinctively knows how to handle someone else’s depression. Depression is a liar; there is no lie it won’t tell. It contributes to feelings of worthlessness, guilt,…
There are no crows to be seen. It is noon, and the sun is high in the sky in Chennai, India; two women carry a veritable feast in…
A picture, they say, is worth a thousand words, although itās clear that ātheyā havenāt read some of the words Iāve read describing food in breathtaking, drool-inducing detail….
My great aunt was an enthusiastic amateur photographer who loved to take photographs of everything and everyone around her. When she died, I inherited her huge collection. One…