A Recipe of Sacrifice, Not Choice

What we call comfort food often comes from a place of quiet sacrifice—and the women who rarely got to choose

- VERNIKA AWAL is a food writer who is known for her research-based articles through her blog 'Delectable Reveries'

My mum cooks really well. "My grandmother's love language was cooking." We say these things easily, affectionately—without always thinking about what they mean. They're part of the language we use to talk about food and memory, especially in South Asian homes, where so much of our culture is ladled out from the kitchen. I used to say them too. Until last year.

My naani was staying with me for a few days, and I asked her to make kadhi-chawal. It's one of those dishes that has become almost sacred in our home—nobody else's version quite measures up. I thought I'd record the process, preserve the recipe, and in some way, bottle the warmth and familiarity it always brings. As I filmed, I asked her, lightly, "When did you learn to make it?" She replied, without blinking: "I had to. I didn't have a choice."