Growing up in Amritsar, India, food was never just cooked; it was offered. My grandmother stirred pots at dawn with instinct and devotion. 

The kitchens I was raised in were not full of privilege and expensive ingredients. But they were full of beautiful rituals filled with care. 

Indian food has always lived in homes, temples, and community kitchens. It was not created to impress, but to nourish, include, and heal. But for too long, the world has overlooked Indian food because of these very qualities.

When I went to culinary school in India, I was trained in French sauces and classical European techniques. This training gave me discipline and structure. But I was drawn to the depth of Indian food, the kind that isn’t taught, but remembered.

The pineapple coconut curry from the Krishna Temple in Udupi, the dal from the Golden Temple in Amritsar, the sweet rice from the Jagannath Temple in Puri, and the modaks from the Siddhivinayak Temple in Mumbai resonated with me far more deeply than the sauces I was taught in culinary school.

While my culinary school classmates........

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