Writing from my kitchen

Anybody who has lived in KolKata better known as Calcutta or even been a frequent visitor to that eccentric city would love to talk about it. Everyone has endless stories about places and people. , which invariably ends with a “that’s Calcutta” . The mob, floods, polluting taxis and everyone who would rather tend to your business even when he is not sure of his own is what makes that city memorable. Mind you it is not the same reading about it. You need to spend a few days and the city grows upon you with all its quirkiness and whole hearted warmth. I am very happy living in Bangalore but Calcutta and its memories come by almost every other day. Another aspect of Calcutta not to miss of course is its food. From the Puchkas off the street , to Indo-Chinese at Tangra, or the good old Biriyani from Aminia, it’s a festival on your palate. The Biriyani is not to be missed at all. Served in old time china plates most of which may be chipped at the edges, looks pretty bland and pl

After a year and two months of oblivion, it is a little unnerving to start writing again. The past year of no blogging has been full of other activities, some involving food and most involving people. They have ranged from weddings, starting a new occupation, moving home, and much more. My kitchen is as busy as it always has been when I’m around, though with my new occupation the time I manage to keep it busy is a little limited. Now I get a day in the week to explore, create and recreate ideas and translate them into interesting food. Nevertheless the effort and the exercise is still full on. Last week I was visiting a good friend for dinner and she casually mentioned to her other guests that I am good at churning out variety of dips and chutneys. I was beaming inside but of course in all humility had to brush it aside as “it is really nothing”. The truth is, that in a number of instances these dips are creations that evolve out of necessity of putting something together to