Born with wheels on my feet, I’ve followed life across many cities in India and a few abroad. This rolling stone life shaped my thinking, my connections with people and of course, what I cook and eat. Sometimes I struggle to paint a clearer picture to find a definition for my tastes. But the truth is, that I’d rather not be pigeonholed. My smudgy watercolour of a palate where cultures, flavours and textures mingle and meld, is what makes the picture interesting.
I cook like I write. Intuitively. It’s the same way I experience food. The ripe curvature of a tomato. The patient lovemaking of yeast and flour. The lazy pour of melted chocolate. The honest reality of a pinch of salt. And a million other organic pleasures that go beyond the tongue to tease the senses and trigger memories.
It was why scales and slime under my fingernails didn’t bother me while gutting fish at 11. Why at boarding school, I sought solace in the memory of my mother’s Sunday goat curry. Why my brain was imprinted with the aromas of the annual puja at my grandfather’s, when pot-bellied cooks served a medley of South Indian dishes on plantain leaves with volcanic mounds of steaming rice and lava flows of ghee. I didn’t understand the powerful poetry of food earlier. Now I do.
I began cooking in my early teens but never realised that it was my thing, the one instinct that rings clear like a temple bell. Writing is my other thing. It is my work – I’ve written and edited reviews, features, website content, press releases and even white papers, for IT, travel, public relations, architecture and interior design. Strangely, writing about food began only a few years back. What I wanted to say was nebulous beyond the recipes. That fog has since cleared. This blog is my attempt at connecting the crazy wires of life through my lens with the pure pleasure of cooking and celebrating food. 100% natural, unadulterated self expression is what I’m going for. Wish me the words!
— Supriya Kutty