Social media is flooded with pictures of delicacies prepared by these budding chefs. Getting your cookbook out, and dishing up something fancy is a great way to beat the lockdown blues, nevermind the waistline. Just like visual and performing artists need an appreciative audience, food artists need connoisseur patrons. Not being blessed by the muse either in performing or culinary arts, I try to redeem myself by being a good patron. The problem these days is, it is much harder to beat the blues by the memory of comfort food. Be that as it may, that is what I must do—remember good food times, and derive my comfort from that warm memory.
Every culture celebrates its food with enthusiasm and vigour. Actually, food is culture. I sometimes get the opportunity to take out some time during my travels, from my work engagements, and sample what the host state or country has to offer. My only (some might say, huge) limitation is that I am a ‘pure vegetarian’, which limits my sampling to a large extent. Folks, everywhere that I have been in the world, have made special efforts to tweak their native cuisine offering to accommodate my food preferences. Purists may laugh at me, saying I have not tasted the real thing. Maybe so. But I have succeeded in accumulating a treasure trove of memories, both for my taste buds, and my affable soul.
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