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What does summer look and feel like in your city? Here in Chennai, temperatures have been crossing 40 °C (104 °F) – and we’re bracing for May, usually the hottest month of the year! The streets are at their sunniest and most scorching, but pleasantly lined by flowering trees and stalls selling fruit. A few weeks ago, on a short road trip, water mirages accompanied me all along the highway. As for what the season feels like: sweat, thirst and the longing for a cool breeze and a chilled beverage are our primary sensations at present. Come visit, I say – just not today!

Fortunately, there’s a method to the madness of every season. Traditional wisdom and the science of macrobiotics make the best culinary use of fruits, vegetables and grains that thrive at different times of the year. Here in the subcontinent, if there is one kind of produce that is ubiquitous with the sweltering, sultry days of summer, it’s the mango.

The dessert du jour is the chia seed pudding – fuss-free, and usually requiring very few ingredients. If you’re like me, you’d have gotten introduced to chia seeds because of your curiosity over the current craze of having them in puddings. The first time I tasted them, they took me back to childhood visits to Bombay and the city’s famous bright-coloured, super-sweet dessert drink known as falooda. They tasted just like the takhmaria (sweet basil) seeds I loved catching between my teeth as I slurped it down… And that’s when I had an inspiration about a very Indian twist on the done-to-death chia seed pudding.

Do you ever have that feeling, returning from travels or even just from a demanding day, that you simply must bake something that makes you feel good?

It’s a feeling I have often – which means that the emotion that follows, as I gently remove my creation of the day from the oven, is also one that I frequently get to enjoy. Many things inspire the baking itself. A craving, for instance. Or a memory. Sometimes, the creativity comes from cookbooks. A recent one I picked up is Love, Manuela. I lost myself for hours in the pretty pastels and luscious desserts that filled the pages of the book. Another favourite is Under The Walnut Tree by Fanny & Anna Bergenström, which features ingredients and recipes from around the world.

And sometimes, everything begins with a single ingredient.

When my friend Lucy visited recently, she brought me a beautiful batch of Meyer lemons, garden-grown and gorgeous. I know the tree from which she plucked them, from her home near a cove in Wareham, close to Boston. I love Lucy’s garden, unmanicured and filled with a wild charm. It was where her son’s wedding was held, with a Star Trek theme, and I vividly recall the funky geometric necklace I wore as per the dress code! Lucy came to visit in India bearing good tidings, kind comfort… and sweet, gently-raised lemons.

What is the most descriptive collective noun for coconuts? A cluster? A clump? A crowd? None of them quite sufficed for the copious numbers I found myself with! With five thriving trees in my garden, dangerously dropping their heavy drupes at any given moment, I responded to this abundance in the best way I know how: by bringing them into my kitchen.

So I hired a nimble man to climb up the trees to cut most of the coconuts down, and then we segregated them into tender ones, which yielded nutritious coconut water, and ripe ones with flesh that could be shaved. One of my coconut trees is also the site of an experiment of mine. I have a little basket on a lovely pulley system which takes pieces of papaya up to a nice altitude for the parrots that often flit about. It took a while to convince them that this odd contraption was actually a friendly gesture, but as with people and animals both – at the end of the day, appetite always wins!

restore shaved coconut

The shaved coconuts found themselves in many of my recipes: from coconut rose cupcakes (which you can order here if you’re in Chennai) to sweet-savoury kachoris (which you can make in your own kitchen, with my recipe here) and more. And in the late afternoons, those pristine white shavings of coconut were perfect for a local lentil dish: sundal.

When most people hear the word “burger”, they think of an oily, low-nutrition meal full of sauces and heavy meat, polished off with unhealthy sodas and greasy fries! But what if I told you that I can share with you how I make something that looks like the real thing, tastes just as (or more!) delicious, and doesn’t do anything but nourish your body and soul?

My vegan bean burger is an improvisation on a dish that one of my teachers at the Kushi Institute, Chris Jenkin, used to make for us for lunch sometimes, in a strictly macrobiotic style using East Asian ingredients. I love innovating in the kitchen, discovering ways to turn a dish around and make it vegetarian, vegan, gluten-free and so on. I also consider how to source ingredients that are seasonal and readily available. Call it Macrobiotics meets Madras! Here’s a perfect example of how I fine-tuned a recipe so that it makes the best sense for climactic and cultural conditions.

With the monsoon, the sick season begins. The kids (and all the adults whom illness reduces to behaving like kids!) catch the flu. Coughs, colds, sneezing, sore throats – no sooner does one person in the household calm down does the next come down with a bout!

When it comes to healthcare, I’m a believer in homemade concoctions and natural wisdom. There’s a particular cough syrup that I find very effective, the basics of which I learned from Kiran Patel, an amazing Mumbai-based nutritionist whose principles of simplicity for wellbeing match mine. You will need nothing more for it than some of the most basic ingredients in your kitchen, garden or windowsill pots.

There are always beautiful things that we learn from our parents, grandparents and in-laws. The kitchen is one such space of knowledge shared and passed on. When I got married into the family (in India, due to the joint family system – one marries families, not individuals!) I had the chance to learn more than I had imagined. My mother-in-law is an educated woman who enjoys cooking, and coming from different regions of the country, she and I had different styles and methods. We would often argue about how my family would make a dish a particular way, while she would insist that her family’s recipe was better. So it was with her kachoris, a delicious regional variant of the internationally-ubiquitous samosa.