My mom taught me how to boil food, to prevent it from spoiling. One day, as she returned from work, I made her tea. The joy in her eyes was the first ever significant award of my life. I fell in love with the art of cooking. Well, if that’s not inspiring, I don’t know what else is
..and all the stars eventually fell in place!
As I grew up, Satellite TV came to India, and with it the onset of cooking shows like ‘Khana-Khazana’. I wanted to pursue culinary arts as my specialization, but couldn’t pursue it, as I really needed a secure job in IT to support my family. Over time, cooking became more like a spiritual passion, than just a chore. Cooking was my happy place, my escape from the world. At this time, I was not only cooking for my family, but also entertaining guests over dozens of BBQ nights at my place. In Dec 2016, life and work brought me to Australia, and my friends convinced me to apply for MasterChef Australia. The stars aligned and I realized a very long cherished dream.
This is almost like a fairy tale (but I’m no Cinderella, perhaps ‘Shrek’), and I am looking forward to the journey ahead of me now. This website is a compilation of my cooking and my food experiences. It’s just like the two passions that I have, ‘Get Fed’ or ‘Feed’.
If there was ever a habit of mine that stands out, it’d be my love for food and an equal love for feeding people. Bangalore has shaped my love for food, like no other city did, and the reason for that is that Bangalore has always been a melting pot. The pub city of India is also the Silicon valley of India, and both these aspects make it a food lovers paradise.
My personality is similar to that of Bangalore, rooted in tradition but very modern. The pure East meets West city, multilingual with Beer at the centre of everything.
A Kashmiri Pandit by birth, a passionate Indian cook by choice and an IT Project Manager by Profession, an Indian by Heart and an Aussie since December 2016. I reckon the previous sentence would be a sufficient one liner about me.
Life was a breeze upto 1989 until the storms of militancy in Kashmir blew our family out of Kashmir. Grandpa passed away in the shock, my uncle’s wedding seemed anything but fun and we were on our way out of Kashmir, in a Truck, over the Mountain passes of the Pir Panjal. When the world seemed bleak, Hindustan Machine Tools (HMT, as they call it), my Mom’s employer, gave us shelter and a decent job to mom at Bangalore. Thus, our large family of Grand ma, uncles, aunts, cousins, my sister and I were forced to be apart. This was the most painful part of my childhood, and yes, it still pains.
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