A rich bounty of family, food and conversations

When I was married a quarter century ago, my spouse was startled with what she believed was my family's obsession with food.

- SAMAR HALARNKAR

As we scarfed down our lunch, she noted, we discussed what was for dinner and the next day's breakfast.

Nothing has changed—except she now does the same thing, planning the day's meals, discussing the next day's, refusing to acknowledge that food now occupies her mind as much as mine. She does not cook very much but is always generous with unsolicited comments.

If I say Moroccan, she says desi. If I say chicken, she says lamb. If I say chicken curry, she says grilled is better for the teenager. If I say egg-white omelette, she snorts.

Oh, she's vegetarian—with strong opinions on meats and everything else. I don't mind, of course. This country needs strongly opinionated women, who, as we know, have changed the course of history. But let's stick to my kitchen for this column.

I particularly like December because that is when we get to see a lot of her family and mine, and conversations from both sides strongly revolve around what's for dinner—and lunch, and breakfast, and snacks. It is a time of laughter, love and fraternity, the general mood always fuelled by food.

This December, it struck me how internationalist and inward-looking—simultaneously—our collective culinary outlook was.

For my aunt's 80th birthday in Mumbai, her daughter organised a spread of her favourite, native cuisine. So, there was spicy fish curry, kolambi bhaath (prawn pulao), mutton curry with vade (like spicy puris), thalipeeth (Maharashtrian flatbread) with loni (white butter), among a whole lot else.