The Return Home

Hello everyone! I’m back from my Summer hiatus bringing exciting news. I’ve moved back to my motherland in search of tradition and to learn the dishes of my childhood right from the source: my mom, sister, aunt, uncle, the restaurant at the end of my street, and the push cart that I used to visit more regularly than the temple.

Let me not kid anyone, this move was prompted by my lack of a valid work visa in the US and just the thought of putting an end to the New Hampshire chapter tore my heart. Still in denial after purchasing my ticket back to India, I reluctantly moved about my kitchen packing up my baking instruments to go into storage, the worst of which was packing up my beautiful Kitchen Aid.

It felt a little unfair that just when I was getting started, I had to leave everything I knew, I loved, and built, just to start over again. As I packed, I remembered the way I felt when I’d first heard that I got into Dartmouth. It was on the back of a bad breakup when I’d lost my drive, interest in my fun job and was just living. Naturally, I was excited to have an opportunity that literally allowed  me to escape from it all, at first. As the days got closer and I submitted all my documents, got my visa stamped, and dotted all the i’s on my loan documents, panic also started to set in. I was going to a college that me and my ex had talked about going to, alone, travelling abroad for the first time ever, far from everything I’d ever known, and to do what? A writing course? That was cuckoo talk! I remained excited for everyone except my friend to whom calls of hysteria would go almost every day about how I didn’t want to go, until one day I was asked why I wanted to stay. I had no answer.

I’m very thankful for that moment in my life and for not bending into my fears, for the last three years have been, not to sound dramatic, life altering. Apart from the quality of education, the chance to spend a semester in Oxford, discovering my love for cooking, and the start of my culinary career, the small, pretty college town of Hanover made me fall in love five minutes after I stepped out of the bus. It was all the old brick buildings, the large tower clock in the middle of town and more importantly, the extremely kind couple who were eager to help me find my accommodation.

I’ve always been an outdoors kid and the fact that the town sat on the banks of a river, surrounded by mountains excited me to the very last day when I drove around town, soaking in as much as I could before I had to leave it all behind. Hanover is gorgeous, in the day, in the night, in Spring with colourful flowers all over, in Fall with fluorescent leaves, in Winter with fluffy white snowfall, just all the time! Mountains surround this petite town and the roads entwine the Connecticut river, across which is the alluring vintage Vermont.

New Hampshire gave me a lot of things to love right from the almost 200 years old farmhouse I was proud to call my home that sat surrounded by apple trees, creeks, and a bird sanctuary that brought the most colorful birds to my backyard all the way to the beautiful covered bridges that I would’ve never seen if not for my adventure seeking partner in crime, Ni.  

And even though I’m a city girl who ferociously loves the heat and sun, I fell hard for the New England winters. How could I not? Each time it snowed, it was like living in Winter Wonderland.

Dartmouth saw me mature from being just another student to someone who discovered her passion. A simple story about how my grandmother used to feed me and my cousins turned into obsessive days spent in the food section of the library learning the best way to share my adventures in the kitchen with the rest of the world. This was the biggest change that took me by surprise, one that I thankfully embraced with open arms. I evolved from someone who’s never used an oven to someone who organised bake sales and shared recipes with and taught the community. Sometimes I feel like I’m having an out of body experience and I’m watching someone else change.

Perhaps it is because I understand how much the last three years have enriched me that it is so difficult to say goodbye to that country life, my friends, and family. Perhaps that is why even though I’m back home, I’m fiercely home sick. And it takes a minute or two for me to remember that the last time I was so resistant to change, I ended up loving it, just like deep down I know, I am going to love this chapter of my life. India is at the cusp of a crossroads between preserving tradition and creating modern food. The culinary industry is exploding, and to have even a tiny part in contributing to this revolution is humbling.

So, stay with me as I go on this new journey, tasting my way through all the nuances of Indian cuisine, the dishes we know, the dishes we don’t, and the ones we’ve forgotten about.