Where to begin? This question kept me thinking for more than a decade about starting to write about my unapologetic love for food. Like the apple that hit the soon-to-be-famous Isaac Newton on a warm evening in 1666, just after his dinner, I had a ‘light bulb’ moment while eating at South India’s milk peda (from a famous brand). I thought it was time to start writing about my second passion -Food and its interesting stories. Hence, I invite all readers to embark on a culinary journey filled with humour, a sprinkle of kitchen mishaps, and many flavours as we dive into recipes, reviews, and the occasional tale of culinary catastrophe. Grab your cutlery because things are about to get tasty!

Welcome to the world of the chaotic Indian kitchen, its history and traditions.

When I got married and relocated to the city while my in-laws stayed in the village, we faced the exhilarating challenge of setting up a kitchen. Naturally, we went hunting for budget-friendly deals. We stumbled upon an ad boasting “10 free items with a mixer grinder,” and predictably, we were both hooked. We snapped up the whole deal faster than you can say “kitchen clutter.” One of the freebies was a mysterious gadget I’d never seen before—my mom never had one, and there was no Google to consult or WhatsApp to ask for a second opinion. So, after a week of awkwardly eyeing it on the shelf, I finally handed it over to my helper, who probably knew exactly what to do with it.

In 2004, while I was briefly staying in Chennai, I was jolted awake one morning by a cacophony of eardrum-shattering whistles. I jumped out of bed and sprinted to the kitchen, only to discover the source of this auditory assault: the very milk cooker I had given away six years prior. Yes, that’s right—I had just encountered my old nemesis in action for the first time. Over the following days, the entire apartment complex joined in on the symphony of whistles, making sure no one could forget the true meaning of the early-morning alarm.

Mornings can be a real circus with all the noise and smells, but they also bring a treasure chest of memories. Growing up in joint families on both sides—my parents’ and my in-laws’—I’ve developed a real fondness for the breakfast blues.

The day starts with a frantic scramble to remember, “What should I cook for breakfast?” it’s a full-on battle to get the kids ready for school. According to my co-sister, it’s like a war zone.

First on the morning agenda: getting the milk on the stove and starting the tea. Meanwhile, both we and our mothers get busy kneading dough for the quintessential, healthy, and speedy staples—rotis and chapatis—which end up packed in lunch boxes for the day ahead.

But wait, there’s more! Now we’ve got a buffet of “combination” requests: egg-roti, sugar-roti, ghee-gud-roti, and even ‘sabzi-roti’ (yep, using up last night’s veggies). Still, the crowning glory remains Chai-roti with a generous dollop of clarified butter. Sundays were usually a breakfast feast day, and our kitchens were filled with the aroma of poori-bhaji, dosa-chutney, and aaloo ka paratha.

And let’s remember the elders. The mothers-in-law are busy transferring their vast culinary wisdom into every dish via their daughters-in-law, who secretly daydream about the day they can escape to their parents’ place, where breakfast is served in bed. Life seems just a bit less complicated.

There’s always that one person who seems super adjusting and easy-going, but don’t be fooled—the entire menu is meticulously tailored to their tastes. Yep, it’s the head of the family, who, despite their seemingly outward calm, has the magical ability to make sure every meal is exactly what they want. When they’re away from home for a few days, the menu becomes a minimalist’s dream—simple and primarily composed of whatever leftovers are lurking in the fridge.

The women of the house transform into morning warriors, multitasking like superheroes. While busy in the kitchen, they also tackle ironing, dressing the kids, polishing shoes, and serving breakfast—all while trying to sneak in a cup of tea to soothe their growling stomachs. It’s a daily circus, and they’re the main act.

All of this is now becoming a thing of the past. With nuclear families on the rise, the charming morning chaos that once brought us together kept our bonds strong and supported each other despite our differences, and it is slowly becoming a fond memory.

Our modern lifestyle has swapped out the old demands—with black tea, low-fat milk, and soy milk—for a new routine of cereals, instant noodles, a quick gulp of malted milk, or just a piece of fruit. Sundays have turned into “no-breakfast” days, and the culinary wisdom of our mothers and mothers-in-law seems to have fallen out of favour.

Stay tuned as I bring a slice of the past to your kitchen, and who knows—you might just rediscover the joy in those delightful morning mishaps!