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Here in India, with Diwali having just gone by, we are now officially post-festive. Having eaten all the yummy goodies we can – which included, I hope, some of the recipes I have shared here, alongside your own family specialties – it is now time for a bit of detoxing. Leaning towards lighter meals after the festivities, as well as fasting beforehand, are parts of our culinary traditions too. A simple bajra khichdi is exactly the kind of dish that tends to be preferred at this time, soothing the body after all the feasting, and it is what I’m sharing today.

It is necessary after festivities to streamline one’s diet so as to give one’s digestive system a rest. In general too, eating mindfully is a sensible choice. I want to emphasize here that detoxing is not about shedding weight. To me, that is not important. What is important is listening to one’s body, removing from one’s consumption habits what doesn’t suit it, and maintaining one’s health. Season-based eating habits are obviously a part of this.

Even up to my mother’s generation, the cycle of fasting first so that the body is prepared for feasting, feasting during the celebrations, followed by eating very simple food, was just a part of the rituals and traditions. They didn’t give it much thought, even though to us today it seems to be highly intentional. Perhaps it will help to remember that the concept of detoxing is nothing new. The only difference is that so much is available to us 24/7 nowadays that restraint becomes a choice, and moderation was not a way of life as it was earlier. That said, one definite improvement is that more and more of us are learning how to use the right bins when disposing of kitchen and other waste, aware that our consumption doesn’t end with eating or tossing.

I want to linger on the subject of detoxing, not only in terms of food but taking a more holistic perspective. It is something I think about a lot myself, and try to inculcate in various aspects of my life. Now that I am older and more conscious of the surroundings – and here I mean especially about pollution and the planet, a topic that I’ve written about before – the necessity for curbing excess and being mindful feels stronger than ever. I believe I speak for many of us, for I know from conversations I’ve been having that a desire for more simplicity and less consumption is something that we have been feeling collectively.

I’m thinking therefore of detoxing as a sort of umbrella term, encompassing one’s body, one’s home, one’s relationships, one’s schedule – life itself, really. Let me use a small and practical example here: I have been detoxing my wardrobe. This means removing items I don’t require, and learning how to purchase wisely so that fewer pieces that have more longevity and can be valued over time are selected over quantity. I want to buy less and hoard less. I tell my family, some of whom have big shopping habits, “You must enjoy and appreciate beauty, but that does not mean you should own all the beauty you enjoy.”

This thought applies equally to nature, and how we operate as travellers. When we visit a place, we must remember that preserving it is more important than simply taking it in for our own pleasure.

Then there is shedding negativity, both within ourselves and in terms of whom we choose to have in our circles. This can be quite complicated, but it is also an essential part of well-being, for we do absorb others’ energies.

There are so many aspects of our lives that could do with occasional detoxification, and food just happens to be one of the more obvious ones. Coming back to this simple bajra khichdi, it is a satisfying dish that is full of goodness and nutrients. It contains bajra or pearl millet, which is a preferred grain in Indian winters as it takes longer to metabolize and therefore helps keep us warm. It is also high in iron. I have spoken about these facts before, and encourage you to explore more bajra and millet recipes on this blog. For now, this one is just right for this time of year, both in terms of season and in terms of our social calendars!

 

Simple Bajra Khichdi

(Serves: 2-4)

1 cup broken bajra grains (pearl millet)
½ cup yellow mung dal
3 cups water
2 tablespoons ghee
½ teaspoon turmeric powder
Salt to taste
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
¼ teaspoon asafoetida
1 green chilli

If you’re unable to find broken bajra, just blend coarsely or even hand pound the grain. Rinse and soak the bajra along with the yellow mung dal for at least 4-6 hours.

Change the soaking water, then pressure cook, adding the salt and turmeric, along with 3 cups of water. Use less if required. Cook until the grains are tender and the consistency is soft.

Heat a kadai. Add ghee, cumin seeds and asafoetida. Once the cumin seeds splutter, add the green chilli and the cooked bajra. Stir until the ghee is well mixed.

Your khichdi is now ready to be served hot. I would pair it with kadhi. This will make for a very filling lunch or dinner, and it definitely in the comfort food category in every way!

Bajra ni puri is a traditional Gujarati snack that is mostly eaten in the monsoons or when the climate is cooler. This is because bajra is heavy to digest, as I have shared in prior recipes that feature it, and also to coincide with the winter harvest of this particular millet. I often talk about how Nature tells us what we should be eating, and how and when; it was a wonderful science indeed that our ancestors followed. However, if consumed in moderation, bajra ni puri can of course be eaten year-round. Since this is the last stage before the summer heat sets in, and hence our last chance for a few months to gorge on this dish as per traditional logic, I thought it was the perfect time to share it.

Bajra, also known as pearl millet, is a millet rich in iron. You can infer this because of its darker colour, as I learned while studying Macrobiotics some years ago. Speaking of seasonal consumption, lighter grains are usually had in the summer. Funnily enough, cravings for heavy food are not often there in the hot season anyway. Our bodies naturally adapt to Nature, and we should become more conscious of these needs and put them first.

There are different methods of making bajra ni puri. I like this one as it has a bit of tanginess, created by the yoghurt that is added to it. It is also spiced up by ginger-green chilli paste.

My mother used to make the puris a bit bigger, and they would be fluffy – soft in the centre and crisp on the edges. My sister makes it this way too, and I love hers perhaps because it reminds me of our mother’s.

My version is a small and crispy one, which goes well with masala chai. To create this perfect pairing, you can check out my recipes both for the masala and the chai itself.

When my daughter who is away studying came home recently, she took back with her the entire batch of bajra ni puri that I had made then. She loved it that much. So even though my own favourite version is what my sister learned from my mother (which she must have learned from her own mother), my daughter’s is probably mine. I am happy to share with her not just this snack but also the traditions that come with it.

What I am reminded of in some way is of how when a Gujarati bride gets married and leaves her home, she is given a pot full of goodies to take back with her. My understanding is that she would need the sustenance as she left her village and crossed into her new one, be it by road or by train, and items that would provide energy (like millets) would be included. Today, the tradition is continued in the form of fancy silver trays laden with sweets and nuts.

My mother must have brought with her the pot that is now an heirloom of mine when she got married. It was the only thing that I asked from her before she passed on. It is a beautiful round brass pot with a small mouth and a small lid; I imagine this was to ensure that only a little air got in and the items within remained fresh. It adorns my kitchen, and maybe I’ll share a photo of it in future.

Bajra Ni Puri

(Yield: 40 tiny pieces)

 

¾ cup bajra flour

¼ cup wholewheat flour

2½ tablespoons curd (use lime juice – optional)

2 tablespoons oil

Salt to taste

1 teaspoon sesame seeds

¼ teaspoon asafoetida

½ teaspoon turmeric

2 teaspoons green chilli+ginger paste

½ cup finely chopped fresh methi leaves (optional)

2 tablespoons water (optional)

 

In a bowl, add the flours, salt, turmeric, asafoetida, curd, oil, sesame and green chili-ginger paste. Mix, then add the methi (fenugreek) leaves if you wish to. Now, gauging the quantity of water required, add it slowly – 1 tablespoon at a time – making sure the dough is thick.

In the mean time, heat the oil for deep frying. Once it has heated, gently add a few puris at a time and lower the flame. Turn them over frequently so that both sides cook well and become a golden colour. Fry on a low to medium flame.

Remove and drain on a paper. Once cooled, store in an airtight container. Enjoy with your chai. You’ll find it tangy, spicy and yummy.

I love how this bajra ni puri contains the significance of my mother’s wedding pot, and also the simplicity of an afternoon snack.

Still on the theme of post-festive millet-based goodness, after the previous post’s millet upma, I’m glad to share another recipe that I’ve been turning to frequently. This is another breakfast dish, and what’s even better is that it makes use of the previous day’s leftovers, maximizing resources and minimizing time. There’s a long tradition of innovative dishes that do this, as we’ve seen in my second helpings series from a few years back, and this bajra rotlo cereal fits beautifully into that category too.

Bajra, or pearl millet, is a long-fingered crop with hundreds of grains on the cob. It has been cultivated on the Indian subcontinent for thousands of years, and is a staple across different cuisines in this region. As a darker coloured millet, which indicates that it is heavier on the digestive system, it is perfect for monsoons and Indian winters. It keeps the body warm, since the digestive system is active for longer, working on those slow-release carbs, and thus reduces hunger between meal-times. I have noticed that it is one of the key ingredients consumed by farmers, such as the people I’ve met on my travels to the Rann of Kutch, where the salt-harvesting community eats bajra with chutney daily.  It has a high iron quotient, is gluten-free and is rich in amino acids, fibre and antioxidants.

Bajra rotlo is a flatbread, one of many varieties enjoyed by the Gujarati community. It is most often accompanied by a garlic chutney, but while I was growing up my mother would usually serve it to us with jaggery and ghee or else with homemade white butter. In those days, the milk quality of brands that are still around today was pure and excellent, which meant we could extract our own buttermilk from the curd, and from this the butter. I remember watching my mother churning the buttermilk, which would make the butter float on top. She would often ask me for my help. We would collect the white butter and set it aside. Having it with some bajra rotlo over dinner was one of my favourite meals.

Of course, the homemade butter no longer exists and the store-bought ones just don’t compare when it comes to this purpose. Which brings me to my second-favourite way of eating bajra rotlo: as cereal.

It’s funny how things come full circle. As a child, this was a dish that I scorned at the breakfast table. My mother would always prepare a few extra bajra rotlos, to be kept overnight for my father and her to have in the morning. She would crumble these with her hands, turning them into a cereal consistency, and my parents would eat this cereal with milk. It looked like cornflakes to us kids, which was interesting in theory, but we did not like the taste back then. I grew to love it, however. In fact, I now enjoy this deconstructed version more than I enjoy the previous night’s freshly-made, unbroken bajra rotlos themselves!

Now, when I prepare bajra rotlo cereal, the memory of my mother’s hands and the way she would crumble the rotlos always comes to me. The dish is all the more special because of this.

For the time being, no one else in my family likes bajra rotlo cereal. But they watch me eat it, just as I once watched my parents eat it. I’ve never forced it on my kids, but maybe somewhere later down the line, they’ll reach out for this comfort food on some mornings too. Fond memories really are what make food palatable, above all else. Besides, as parents we always set an example. The next generation, be they little or a little older, will make similar choices to ours. So the more healthily we eat, the better a model we set for them.

Bajra Rotlo Cereal

(Yield: 4 servings)

1 cup bajra flour

½ cup water

A pinch of salt

½ cup flour for rolling

 

Optional (non-cereal version)

1 tablespoon finely chopped onion

1 tablespoon finely coriander leaves

 

Put the flour in a bowl, add the pinch of salt and stir. If you plan on having the bajra rotlo as a bread, not a cereal, then make the savoury version and add the onion and coriander now. Skip these optional ingredients if you plan on having the cereal version.

Add the water. Leave a little bit behind in the cup – use just enough to make a malleable dough.

Once the dough is made you, don’t let it sit. You will have to roast the rotlo immediately.

Make four smooth balls with the dough. On a rolling board, sprinkle more flour. Place a ball of dough on it and use your palms to gently pat it out. Use your fingers to press down the edges of the rotlo. If you need the help of the rolling pin, you may use it, but very lightly and gently. Since there is no gluten, the dough will be soft and needs to be handled with care. Add more flour if necessary. Each rotlo needs to be ¼ inch in thickness. Keep dusting with flour at the bottom too. Make all four pieces.

On a hot griddle, place each rotlo individually. Use your fingers to wet the top of the rotlo with water.

Roast on one side and flip over. Cool on a medium flame. As it’s thick, it needs to cook well on the inside. Once it has spots on both sides, place the rotlo directly on the flame to cook further.

Remove from the stove and top with ghee. Allow to cool. You can now serve this bajra rotlo with chutney or dal, if you like.

To make a cereal, once it has cooled, either the same day or the next morning, simply crush or crumble the rotlo with your hands.

You can have this with cold milk, if you prefer that. I usually have mine with warm milk. Specifically, I enjoy it with almond milk, which I’ve been reaching for more and more in my quest to make my diet more vegan. You can also add some sugar, if you wish to sweeten the cereal. All in all, it makes for a complete and healthy breakfast.

The festive season also coincides with the wedding season, which means that there is a general period of celebration until February or so in most Indian communities, peppered with religious occasions as well as personal gatherings. Foods like this dish, which nourish the body and let it recover from the heavy, fried, sugary, buttery, ghee-rich foods that are eaten at special events, are welcome and appreciated after and between feasts. This isn’t to knock indulgent foods at all – in fact, I have noticed how traditional ingredients like gond or gum resin, which are used in laddoos, are a warming agent and boost immunity. There’s a culinary and seasonal logic to indulgence too. But the body really does feel better when some millets are in the mix, balancing out the treats.

I’ve got quite a repertoire of millet-based dishes in my recipe archive, if you are keen to bring this nutritious category into your kitchen more often. Having tried this bajra rotlo cereal, if you find that you’re a fan of pearl millet at breakfast, the traditional Gujarati bajra ghensh is also a fantastic option. Here’s to happy, healthy mornings!

After making the nutritious (and labourious) seven-grain khichdo to share with you last week, I felt inspired to do a short series of similar dishes. This series will showcase the versatility of the staple grains we consume, and the many ways they help make up the traditional Gujarati menu. So here is part two of this series: bajra ghensh, which uses the goodness of broken pearl millet. Pearl millet has been cultivated in India for thousands of years, and is a vital part of both the authentic Gujarati and authentic Tamil cuisines that I grew up surrounded by. As you may know, I truly believe in the revival of higher quantities of millet usage in our diets, especially as a preferred alternative to white rice, and have written many times about their value to us.

I’ve been spending more time with my sister recently, and as always this means exploring her cooking style and picking up new techniques to include in my own. As she sometimes does, she said to me the other day, “Come, I’ll teach you a new recipe.” Working alongside her in her kitchen, I was very surprised to discover that it wasn’t a new recipe to me at all, but only a different interpretation of one I knew well, and made for a different meal of the day. My sister prepares bajra ghensh as dinner, whereas for over three decades my mother-in-law and I have been eating it for breakfast.

What did I tell you about the versatility of millets? In this highly adaptable bajra ghensh, we see an example of how dishes themselves become versatile too depending on the choices of the cook and the habits of the one consuming the same. The method of preparing it, as either breakfast or dinner, is still less the same, but storage and serving determine the type of meal it becomes. It’s a very simple dish with three base ingredients and a generous helping of dry fruits and nuts.

Bajra ghensh wasn’t something we ate while we were growing up, and just as my sister was introduced to it after getting married, I too first encountered it thanks to my mother-in-law. I remember how when I first moved in, my mother-in-law would make it as a porridge or cereal to be had in the mornings, and I loved it from the start. Soon, I was frequently whipping up a big pot of it for both her and I and we would share it for breakfast. We both enjoyed it so much that we would have the same dish for two or three mornings in a row, without needing variety. This was the only way I’d ever eaten it, until my sister served it for dinner the other day.

As delicious as that was, to my mind this is still a breakfast dish, and so my recipe and my photographs here reflect this perspective. It’s a very healthy post-workout meal, and it’s an ideal replacement for supermarket cereals, which make tall claims about nutrition values but are usually full of processed ingredients and sugar. On the other hand, this is comparable only to the simplicity and goodness of whole oats. It is also gluten-free, for those who are making a dietary switch, but it is not dairy-free.

Traditionally, just like the seven-grain khichdo, bajra ghensh was also a winter dish. Pearl millet is warming and high in iron, and the Macrobiotic principle of darker grains being considered winter-friendly applies here. They are harder to digest, whereas in summer lighter grains like jowar and amaranth that are light on the stomach and easiest to digest are better, as per the time-honoured logic of seasonal culinary usages. As I said earlier, since I usually have bajra ghensh in the mornings, I’ve noticed that on days when I have done so, I tend to not become hungry again till at least lunch time or even later. A dish like this cancels out your snack cravings, which automatically increases its already high healthiness quotient.

Finding out that this works well both as a filling breakfast and as a heavy dinner, as well as making the connections with Indian seasonal logic and Macrobiotics, also made me ponder how my mother-in-law and I prepare this at night and store it in the fridge. Since this is a traditional recipe, this meant that in earlier times it could only have been made in winters, when the climate as well as the type of vessels used would allow it to be stored overnight. Only certain probiotic foods would be kept to be on eaten the following day (including homemade yoghurt). There could be no such thing as leftovers, and if there were there were resourceful ways to ensure that these were consumed quickly too. Particularly for Jains, wastage goes against religious philosophy and practice, so quantities are an important part of cooking methods. In the absence of refrigeration, and often with access issues or resource concerns to consider as well, creating perfect portions that satisfy the entire family without any excess is a special skill, and one that cooks across the centuries had to cultivate. It is only in our modern age that we can rely on certain conveniences.

So what happens is this: because of its thick consistency, this bajra ghensh sets when you keep it in the fridge. In the morning, take a chunk, add a bit of milk and have it as a cereal. Or else, prepare it in the evening and eat it hot, right off the stove and with no milk added for breakfast, just like a khichdo.

Bajra Ghensh

(Yield: 2 persons)

 

½ cup broken bajra (pearl millet)

1½ – 2 cups water

½ cup thick yoghurt

Salt to taste

20 grams kharek (dried dates)

10 grams dried coconut slices

10 grams cashew nuts

 

Clean, rinse and soak the broken bajra for 2-3 hours.

Once soaked, cook the bajra along with the 1½ cups of water in a pressure cooker until the grain is soft and tender. Open the pressure cooker lid when ready.

Place a kadai on a medium flame and pour the bajra into it. Now, add the yoghurt and stir continuously. Next, add the salt. Finally, add the dried nuts, dates and coconut and mix well.

This is the point at which you have a choice: today’s main meal, or tomorrow’s breakfast?

Let’s say you decide to have it for breakfast. Just pour the concoction into a container and set it aside for some time. As the bajra ghensh cools, it will solidify. Once it is at room temperature, refrigerate.

You don’t have to do anything the next morning but scoop out a portion into a bowl, add a little milk or buttermilk (which I prefer for the tang) and enjoy!

Do you have a recipe in your own repertoire that you’ve been making and having a certain way for ages, which you later found in an alternate rendition somewhere else? It’s always fascinating to me how the very same dish is prepared or consumed in different ways, depending not even on the community but just on the family or the person who does the cooking. I hope you’ll enjoy this bajra ghensh, and be sure to let me know which meal you had it for!

The very first recipe I learnt from my mother was the foundation of all Gujarati meals: the humble yet hard-to-perfect roti. Or as we call it, rotli. The ideal Gujarati rotli has to be as thin as muslin, and it took me years of practice to expertly knead the dough and roll it into perfect circles. My mother insisted that a good Gujarati girl’s rotis had to be dainty and delicate. My early ones often turned out like Punjabi parathas, large and thick – and by the norms of the Gujarati kitchen, totally wrong! Curious about this cultural difference, I asked a Punjabi neighbour why their standard for the perfect flatbread was so unlike ours, and she gave me a beautiful answer: the big Punjabi paratha reflects generosity, large-heartedness and the desire to share what you eat with the world!

Rotis, known by many names and variations, originated in the Indus Valley civilisation, where grain grinding is said to have been invented. Indian breads are different from other loaves in that they do not contain yeast. This soft form of unleavened bread comes in various forms, shapes, sizes and flavours typical of the region it is prepared, with flour made of millets, wheat, rice and other grains.

All over India, the basics of a good roti are flour, fat and flavour. The fat comes from oil, butter, cream or ghee. There are so many kinds of flavourings and stuffings – from green chilli paste to potato to cauliflower to the quintessentially Bengali renditions made with fish.

I’d like to tell you more about a few Gujarati variants: the herbed thepla, the crispy bhakri, the sweet puran poli, the seasonal juwar and bajri, and the simple rotli. Of these, I’ll share two recipes – both are meant to be eaten hot, and bear in mind that an average person can easily eat several at a time! Some notes for kitchens outside India: while binding the dough, I work with my hands. However, if you’re used to the food processor, please do utilise it. You can use a standard rolling pin.

 

Rotli

Lunch during our summer holidays as children was a competitive affair: who could eat the most rotlis? These rotlis were the simple, everyday variety, washed down with aam raas, a seasonal mango purée. A blissful siesta would ensue, the heavy lunch and the heat lulling us to sleep to the sound of old Hindi songs on the radio…

The rotlis we had then were made from balls of dough joined together, then roasted and peeled from each other. They were as fine as skin. We also ate a sweetened “children’s” version, made with jaggery water. Another way to sweeten a rotli, if you want to, is to eat it with a strained yoghurt dessert known as shrikand. I’ll be sharing a recipe for that soon, and if you subscribe to this blog, you’ll be the first to know.

 

Thepla

 

(Yields: 12)

 

1 cup methi (fenugreek) leaves, picked and washed

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon turmeric powder

2 teaspoons cumin powder

1 teaspoon white sesame seeds

1 teaspoon crushed green chili (adjust to your taste)

½ teaspoon ginger paste

1 tablespoon yoghurt

1 tablespoon sunflower oil + oil for sautéing

100 ml water or less

 

Traditionally, theplas are often made with leftover rice or khichdi, so as not to waste food, but you can make them fresh too. In a mixing bowl, add all the dry ingredients and blend them gently. Now add the 1 tablespoon of oil and the yoghurt. Slowly add water and continue mixing, until you feel the mixture is slightly tougher to the touch than bread dough. You do not need to use the entire 100ml.

Dust both sides of the ball with flour. Make small lemon sized balls and allow them to sit for at least half hour. Now, dusting more flour as you do, roll out the dough into discs. Make them as thin as you can.

On a heated iron pan, place the thepla on a medium flame for 30-40 seconds. Then turn it to the other side. In another 30-40 seconds, add a few drops of oil. Make sure the oil is spread to the edges too, as the thepla may dry out. Press down with a spatula to help it cook. Flip the thepla a couple of times until it is golden on both sides. Remove from the pan and fry the next disc, and so on.

As you make each thepla, either store it in a hot case, so it remains soft and warm, or pile them up on a plate. Serve hot, with a curry of your choice or a sweet mango or kumquat pickle, or simply enjoy them as some Gujaratis do – with a lovely cup of chai.

 

Bhakri

 

(Yields: 15)

 

2 cups whole wheat flour

¼ cup semolina

¼ cup oil

100 ml warm water

¼ teaspoon salt

 

A bhakri is really a type of biscuit, made with a greater quantity of oil than water. A version with jaggery water was my standard after-school snack while growing up. You can make this in the sweetened (what I call “children’s”) version too, by substituting plain water for jaggery water.

Assemble all the ingredients in a large bowl. Add water slowly as required and bind the dough together. Continue pressing firmly, until it all comes together and does not stick to the bowl or your fingers. The dough should appear as a smooth, firm ball. There’s no need to dust this ball of dough with flour, as it is quite tough and will not stick while rolling. If it does stick, you have probably added more water than required, and only in this case should you dust a little flour. Now, divide the dough into 15 smaller balls and keep aside.

Heat an iron pan. Roll out the dough into discs of about 1 cm thickness – this is where the thin-as-muslin standard doesn’t apply! Place the discs onto the hot pan and reduce the flame. Since bhakris are thicker they need to cook on the inside too, so it will take longer to cook. The flame needs to be maintained between medium and slow. Flip over each bhakri a couple of times until golden. If you’d like to, use a pair of tongs and roast the bhakri directly over the flame towards the end of its cooking time. This is the traditional way – dough to flame, directly, just like in this video!

Once they are crisp and golden, remove from the pan and let a trickle of ghee melt onto the bhakri. Serve with tea. They also travel well, so consider packing them for journeys. As my mum would say, a well-made bhakri will be like an easily chewable cookie – it can be eaten comfortably both by the elderly and by children alike.

Puran Poli

Sweet, stuffed and festive, the puran poli is enjoyed not just in Gujarati cuisine but throughout India. Made of toor dal (pigeon pea) and jaggery, it is a stuffed and folded variant that is half-roti, half-dessert.

Juwar & Bajra

It’s only after years of practice with the other rotis that one comes to seasonal variants like juwar and bajra, which are even more difficult to make, let alone master. Gluten-free, the juwar roti is made of sorghum flour while the bajra roti is made of pearl millet. These thick flatbreads were traditionally eaten during winters, roasted on a charcoal flame and thus imbued with a different flavour. They were most often relished with a thick layer of white home-churned butter and sugar or jaggery. Leftover juwar and bajra make delightful, healthy cereal when crushed and eaten with milk.

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Many Gujarati rotis were created to satisfy two specific purposes: to suit the extremely dry summers and cold winters, or to be travel-friendly, a fact proven all the way from the traders of yore to families like mine who took cross-country train rides. Whether unpacked during a picnic or a road trip, or eaten fresh and piping hot from the stove, the roti satisfies.

Throughout the subcontinent, we eat with our hands. According to Indian philosophy, the 5 senses are at our fingertips, and the act of eating activates all of them. Eating is truly a multi-sensory experience: presentation, ambience, mood and texture (even the texture of the thaali or plate – is it silver, terracotta, bell-metal or steel?), who serves us, who we eat with, the memories we recall or create through the meal – all of these matter as much as the taste itself.