Love in the Time of Quarantine

T oday is Jamai Shoshti, the Bengali son-in-law's day. It is one of those celebrations in the Hindu calendar that may have had their origin in religion, but since then has evolved into a family celebration in which several genrations come together to observe homespun rituals and feast on seasonal produce. While Jamai Shoshti is connected to the Hindu goddess, Shoshti, it is also a celebration of the season, end of May being the height of summer in India. The food served on this day showcases the best of summer produce and the mangoes that are in high season at this time are at the center of the rituals that mark the day. As far as the reference to the son-in-law goes, I think it was a clever ploy to create an opportunity for married women to visit their parents. Back in the day, it was not socially acceptable for married women to visit their parents whenever they wanted. However, if her husband was invited to her parents' home, she could definitely tag along, even stay on a

A traditional Bengali meal, including anywhere between 6-12 courses, is a tour de force of the taste palate. A few courses in the meal appeal to a specific part of the taste palate, with most straddling the umami region between the sweet and salty. A multi-course Bengali meal begins with something bitter (bitter gourd, crushed neem leaves, bitter greens), then ventures into the sweet-salty region (with daals, vegetable stir fries, fish or meat stews), stopping briefly to sample the sour (chutneys), before ending with the sweet. The sequence of courses from bitter to sweet as well as the variety of options and cooking techniques used within each course is what makes Bengali cuisine unique from other regional Indian offerings. The bitter flavors in the beginning of the meal and the light, sweet-sour chutneys, usually had on their own or with a papad, also distinguishes Bengali cuisine from most international cuisines. Once I had asked a German friend if they had any bitter foods in

E ggplant in my native Bengali is called  begoon -- a word with a complex etymological origin.  Begoon could be the Bengali variation of brinjal (itself derived from the Portugese  beringela ), the common English term for the vegetable in the Indian subcontinent. Begoon  could also be a reference to the color of the vegetable as begooni in Bengali is the color purple. In a different etymological analysis, the word begoon could be seen as a combination of the Bengali prefix " be- " (without or devoid of) and the base word " goon " (positive trait or quality). If we went with the latter analysis, the term begoon describe s  something devoid of good qualities. And, for most of my childhood, that is how I felt about begoon -- a vegetable without any redeeming qualities. Generally mushy and sometimes irritating to the mouth and throat, begoon was only acceptable when dipped in batter and deep fried, a treatment that masked its distinctive taste and texture. More o

Do you ever get a tune stuck in your head? That happens to me with food -- instead of a tune, a new dish/preparation gets stuck in my head and till I actually cook whatever it is I am obsessing over, it stays with me. That was the case with this Khoba Roti that has been in the back of my mind for a long time -- ever since I saw the winning team of the Big Family Cooking Showdown make them in the finals. A regional variation of the basic Indian roti, this rustic, whole-wheat flatbread with handmade patterns, hails from the majestic state of Rajasthan. Before I saw Khoba Roti in the show, I did not know that any Indian flatbread had patterns on them. This, in itself, made it an enigma worth exploring. The technique for creating the patterns by pinching the dough was simple as well as fascinating. I could see that the ridges helped the dough cook evenly and formed nooks and crannies for the ghee to collect. In spite of my extensive musings on the Khoba Roti, I shied away from making

Sometimes, certain foods become associated with a place. May be you taste something for the first time while on a trip or the ambience of a place lends a magical quality to the most common food items. For me, Saag Paneer (Paneer in Spinach Sauce) will always be associated with a trip to Rohtang Pass in Himachal Pradesh, India. Situated at 13,000 ft and connecting two Himalayan valleys, Rohtang Pass makes for a rather unlikely location for any food memory. It is a rugged place, exposed to extreme weather conditions, reachable only via treacherous roads that hug the mountain wall and drop precipitously into steep cliffs. The bus ride to Rohtang Pass is a harrowing experience for anyone, but was especially so for me because of my car sickness. Even though I had fortified myself with my regular motion sickness medication before starting the journey, I had to fight back waves of nausea and panic every time the bus took one of the sharp hairpin turns in the road. The struggle was well

W hen I first laid eyes on Yotam Ottolenghi's Jerusalem , I knew that the cookbook was different from others. I don't know if it was the soft cushioned cover, the straightforward recipes with simple ingredients, or the use of fresh, vibrant vegetables -- but, since then, recipes from the book have become part of our regular meal rotations. Inspired by Ottolenghi's recipes, I once embarked on a mission to find preserved lemons, an ingredient he uses frequently in his preparations, but I do not typically have in stock. My quest took me to the nearest Middle Eastern grocery store where the shopowner seemed to have never heard of a preserved lemon. "Have you tried the Indian stores?" he asked me. Not sure if his question implied a general ignorance of regional ingredients or a tendency to racially/culturally profile customers, I gave up hope of finding prepared preserved lemons. Instead, I followed a Mark Bittman recipe to make a "quick" version of pre

In the US, baked potatoes typically play the role of the reliable side kick in a steak dinner. Served alongside your favorite ribeye, the potatoes are either simply topped with a dab of butter or smothered in melted cheese. They are definitely not the most exciting part of the meal. My introduction to baked potatoes was in the UK, where they are known, rather quaintly, as jacket potatoes. Serving as a meal in itself, the potato in this British version is the receptacle for toppings like ham, cheese, or robust chili con carne. It is one of the most common and cheap food options in the UK, served out of food stands during office lunch hours. To a poor student, a piping hot jacket potato topped with a generous helping of chili con carne was an affordable and comforting meal on cold and grey days. In our dorm kitchen, we would stick an indiscriminately pierced potato in the microwave and top the cooked spud with whatever we had on hand as well as liberal amounts of Tabasco. Scramblin

I n the Indian equivalent of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs -- Roti, Kapda, Aur Makaan are the basic needs of food ( Roti /bread), warmth ( Kapda /clothing), and safety ( Makaan /home). Now, Indians living in predominantly rice-eating regions of the country may argue that, for them, rice is more symbolic of food than rotis. So, for them, the hierarchy would be more like Chawl (Rice), Kapda, Aur Makaan, but for majority of India, roti is synonymous with food, comfort, and well-being. Since I come from Bengal, the rice bowl of India, cooking rice comes more naturally to me than making rotis. It also helps that rice is a pretty forgiving thing to make. You can cook it in a rice cooker or in the stove top. You can even stick it in a microwave, a pressure cooker or Instapot. It is edible even when it is a little undercooked or overcooked. Rotis -- the wholewheat flatbreads that are made fresh in most Northern and Western Indian households -- take some effort. You have to make the dou

I am a perpetual planner and to-do list-maker. I typically have running lists of tasks in my phone, on post-it notes, in my notebook, and of course, in my head. While I do not always get to everything on my lists, I find that noting/writing things down helps me stay organized and checking off items from the lists gives me a sense of accomplishment. Those little moments of personal satisfaction have been hard to come by these past two months. At work, I feel like we are all in limbo. Unsure of what lies ahead, we cannot really plan for the future. And, since there is no plan in place, there are no lists to be made. The home front has similar uncertainties: How are our finances? What will the kids do over the summer? What will next school year look like? How will college applications work in these circumstances? There are no clear answers to any of these questions. So, planning and making lists seem futile. While it is liberating to not always be anticipating, planning, and identi

S treet food in India is a cuisine in itself. All over the country, hand carts, street-side kiosks, and hole-in-the-wall stores offer a mind-boggling variety of quick eats. Many of these street foods originated in major cities, reflecting local flavors -- the chaats of Delhi, idli-dosas of Chennai, egg rolls of Kolkata, and Pav Bhaji of Mumbai. However, over time, the most popular of these street food offerings have transcended regional boundaries and are now available all over the country with slight tweaks to appeal to the local palette. Food historians trace the origin of Pav Bhaji to the streets of Mumbai in the 1850's where it served as a quick and cheap lunchtime meal for cotton mill workers. It is a poor man's meal -- toasted bread (Pav) with a mash of potatoes and vegetables (Bhaji) -- enough to keep you full for the rest of the day. The bread for Pav Bhaji, said to be a legacy of the Portugese, is baked in sections like Parker House or Hawaiian rolls. Pav is the

Call me weird, but I like exploring grocery stores -- not the typical large, big-box stores like Safeway or Lucky or even Whole Foods. I like the smaller, independent stores that carry fresh produce as well as specialty pantry items. I find that depending on the demographics of their clientele, these stores carry items that are specific to a particular region of the world. Here in California, I am lucky to have several small, independent stores within easy driving distance that carry regional specialities -- fresh curry leaves from the local Indian store,   za'atar from the local middle eastern grocer, a variety of dried chilies at the local Mexican store, rye bread and frozen pierogis at the local East European store. A trip to these stores often feels like a little excursion to a faraway place. The smaller square footage means that I am not spending my time pushing the shopping cart up and down long isles. Because these stores tend to rely on local suppliers, I get produce t

O ne of my travel regrets is that I did not get a chance to explore more regions of India when I lived there. The US is about three times the size of India. I guess I could have the same regret about not traveling to more regions of the US having spent as much of my life here as in India. It is not a fair comparison though. While the 50 US states are marked by distinctive geographical features and natural landmarks, they do not offer the variety in languages, clothes, food, and culture that distinguish the different regions of India. I think very few people who have not lived in India realize this about the country. It is truly baffling to think of a country where the human landscape changes so dramatically every couple of hundred miles. So, I regret not having experienced more of regional India when I lived there. When we visit India now, we try to explore at least one of the different regions. Given that our trips are not very frequent and we are always pressed for time when we ar

M y first memory of having panna cotta is at an Italian restaurant where my husband and I had dinner to celebrate our first anniversary. The ethereal mounds of fresh cream served in a pool of summer berries provided the perfect finish to a fantastic meal. Since then, panna cotta has been one of my favorite summer desserts. The fact that it is easy to make is just an added bonus. In a way, panna cotta is a mystery. How can a dessert whose primary ingredient is heavy cream be so light? How can you feel refreshed and pleasantly satiated rather than guilty after eating it? Whatever the reason, panna cotta makes for an easy, super-light, and elegant dessert for your summer table. My girls are in charge of unmoulding the individual containers I make panna cotta and they have a funny technique for sliding the mounds of cream out of the containers. We call the technique the panna cotta spin. After the pudding sets, they dip the ramekins/pudding cups in warm water and run a thin knife aro

I did not realize that Cinco de Mayo was this week till I saw a post for enchiladas in one of the food blogs I follow. More evidence that I have completely lost track of date and time due to the lockdown. I am convinced that I am not the only one caught in this time warp as the New Yorker Magazine just came out with a cartoon called What Day is It? Luckily enough, we had all the fixings to make fish tacos at home. Because, hello, it is Cinco de Mayo? We must have Mexican food and beverages! So what if they do not really celebrate this day in Mexico and so what if we are not sure why the date is important in Mexican history? We just need an excuse to eat tacos. So Taco Tuesday it was to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. The only thing we were missing was Mexican beer, but the Anchor Steam IPAs we had in the fridge was more than adequate. I do not batter fry fish for the fish tacos I make on a regular basis. Deep frying is too much hassle and I do not undertake that task unless it is a spe

L ast year, we spent a couple of days in Morro Bay on California's Central Coast. On the way back home, we stopped at Paso Robles. The plan was to go wine tasting in the local wineries, but the day turned out to bee scorching hot and walking around a winery with two reluctant kids tagging along did not seem like a good idea. Instead, we explored downtown Paso Robles, hugging the shade of the buildings, pausing once in a while to look at the antique store windows. We were drawn to the WeOlive storefront because of its unique Colonial facade and the dogs thirstily lapping up water from the bowl left outside by the shop owners. While my kids stopped to pet the dogs, I decided to take a look inside. The store had a vast array of olive oils available for tasting along with  pestos, tapenades, vinegars, jams, and other condiments. The people at the shop were super friendly, encouraging customers to sample everything, explaining the difference between the products. For samplin

E very year, in early April we plant herbs and vegetables in a raised bed in our backyard. Due to the lockdown, I was not sure how I would get the seeds and saplings that I needed for my spring planting. First, I tried the local nursery where I typical buy my plants every spring. Their web site indicated that though the nursery was closed, they were offering curbside pickup service. When I called to place an order, the lady who answered the phone said that the city had shut down the curb-side pickup as it was not deemed an essential service. Next, I tried ordering online, but most vendors were either out of stock or had a month-long delay in delivery. Then, a friend I was speaking to happened to mention that she got her plants from Home Depot. "What? Home Depot is open?" "Home Depot, Lowes, both are open. Just wear a mask when you go," she said, clearly doubting my ability to navigate the lockdown world. "Of course they are open," said my husband when