No dressing on diners, please. Back-to-the-basics brunch has got everyone’s taste buds tingling. What else could explain the popularity of London’s first naked restaurant?

My mum and I are locked in an endless deathmatch: She’ll continue to ask me what I want for the next meal, before rejecting my suggestion outright, accusing me of making “kingly demands”, and serving us lauki for dinner anyway.

The mythology of food in India is storied and the best fables revolve around pregnancy. Twins, some believe, are the result of eating twin bananas – fruit that has the power to impregnate a man.

Settle down in front of your TV with these piping hot dal baras as, you watch the battle for Chhattisgarh unfold. #ChhattisgarhElections2018

The CBFC's at it again, this time it has gone after Amartya Sen. escalating stupidity up to ten, we've made them a cocktail, to help them find zen.

A potato-less diet makes me a social misfit in Kolkata. You can take the egg from the roll, but there’s no way to take the aloo from the posto.

My mother has published a cookbook; my aunt has made meticulous recipe cards with the fond intention of passing them down to the next generation. And yet, an appeal to either one for how to make a favourite dish turns into an hour spent deciphering how much “about a handful” is, or when a dish “smells of dum”.

Solo meals can be a source of warmth. For one, it’s refreshingly satisfying to interact with every bite in its glory. What people see as a lonely endeavour, I see as solitude.

Turn some Dairy Milk chocolate and Old Monk into this delicious hot chocolate. The perfect 'pick me up' for when you're feeling low.

We seem to have become intolerant to the very foods that used to be household staples – butter, cheese, milk, and rotis! Has something truly changed, or as my mom would say, are we just trying new ways to push up our cool quotient?

Last month, when Alps, a four-decade-old beer bar at Colaba, shut down unannounced, no one seemed to instantly notice. It didn’t warrant blockbuster social media obituaries like Cafe Zoe did. That’s the thing about Alps, it never hankered for attention or loyalty. It just waited until it earned it.

In India, poverty isn’t just a state of mind, and paisa-vasooli is a way of life. Yet, people buy an extra birthday cake, just to smash it gleefully in some unfortunate soul’s face. What gives?

Tender, young jowar called Ponkh in Gujarat or Hurda in Maharashtra is a hyper-seasonal ingredient available for just a few months a year. Here's how you can turn it into tasty upma.

Gayhun, no longer an admission of guilt.

Hostel nostalgia taaza karo, bread ke beech mein bhujia bharo.

Indian restaurants and pubs have their own caste system. Firangs are the Brahmins of the restaurant world, and next in line are Silver Spoons – celebrities from the film industry. All the hospitality is reserved for them. At the bottom of the rung are single, young men, aka the Sad Stag Group.

Gujaratis inherit a penchant for "food terrorism". There were Gujarati kids at school who wouldn’t drink “jhoota” water in case it had been touched by a meat eater. And there was my grandmother who’d remind me that I was Jain every time I’d go for an evening snack.

My Chinese roommate taught me that giving in to suspicious, alien flavours can prove to be a rewarding experience. And that friendships forged over fire stand the test of time.

Aaj baba ka birthday hai, bole toh aaj Chicken Sanju Baba bananeka aur khaneka, kya?

Food and sex go hand in hand. Making love on an empty stomach is like crossing the desert barefoot: You wouldn’t want to do it unless absolutely necessary. What we eat says a lot about who we are. Pick a five-course meal and we’ll tell you your favourite sexual position.

Despite being from a cosmopolitan family, I realised that every day, I was unwittingly consuming our caste on my plate. In the game of kitchen politics, caste is a far more deeply riven divide, than the differences between North and South Indian food.

In a world where the Islamic State can blow you to bits, a drunk driver can crush you, and UV rays can pierce the ozone, we’re all living dangerously. Could a little bacon hurt?