It’s all Fenugreek to Me
Share“First you add the crushed fenugreek seeds,” I crinkled my eyebrows and frowned, clueless. “What?” I asked. My mother pointed at a small tin cup filled with the seeds. She pinched a few and I...
View ArticleThe Little Red Devils
Share“Peppers are not spicy,” my dad declared at dinner one night. I had mentioned that the vegetables we were eating were spicier than usual. However, they had been cooked with bright red Cayenne...
View ArticleEasy as Chai
ShareOf all the Madrid cafes that I could have been standing in, I somehow ended up at Starbucks. Study abroad kept me away from home for a few months, and I was craving familiarity in the form of a...
View ArticleMithai Madness
Share“Two hundred and fifty grams of Bombay halwa for me and amba barfi for your mom,” my dad began on the phone. I was nervous about the task he had assigned me. But there was no way to avoid it;...
View ArticleStreet Smarts
ShareIt was a busy Friday night and the street was packed with vendors – food carts called lahris, and people enjoying a relaxing evening. Music was playing, a different song at each lahri, everything...
View ArticleStew Late
ShareFor many people, stewing is inextricably tied to winter: bubbling cauldrons of root vegetables and thick gravies over polenta or mashed potatoes. But, of course, in much of the world, stewing is...
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