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”.

Even as Mumbai has opened up, a host of small businesses are conspicuously absent from its landscape, as they were unable to weather the months of lockdown. This latest obituary is for Bandra’s beloved Karachi Bakery.

Karnataka introduced a new stringent Bill banning cattle slaughter on December 9. Politicians often cite traditional values to defend their anti-beef stance, but a new study shows that inhabitants of Indus Valley Civilisation relied on beef for protein in their diet.

Dev, a 13-year-old desi contestant on the ongoing Junior MasterChef Australia, has left judges and viewers thoroughly impressed. Born and raised in Australia, he prepared a platter of Lamb Mughlai Curry, saffron rice, cucumber raita, coriander chutney, & smoked chicken kebab – all within 75 minutes.

“Idli are the most boring things in the world,” tweeted Edward Anderson, a UK professor of history and expert in India-Britain studies. All hell broke loose. Anderson was schooled by angry Indians on Twitter over his blasphemous opinion – even Shashi Tharoor got involved.

KFC doesn’t want you licking your fingers. “That thing we’ve been saying for 64 years? Ignore it,” says the fast food brand in its newest campaign that’s appropriate for this pandemic.

In a lockdown that has seen some truly questionable culinary innovations like Chocolate Maggi and Oreo Bhajiyas, Chyawanprash ice cream just raised the stakes.

Carlos Elizondo, a 79-year-old Mexcian man, was not the one to fret after losing his job because of the lockdown. He started uploading his food videos on YouTube and has become an instant star, garnering 400K subscribers in less than a month.

If there’s one piece of advice I could pass on to you in 2020, it’s this — don’t break your head on Swiggy and Zomato over where to eat. If you pass by a restaurant that has a table full of elderly ladies, step in. If you can get past the talk of potential marriages, I guarantee you’ll have a meal that will fill your soul.

A hard day at work? A special birthday meal request every year? A cure for a broken heart? It's always the same answer. Irish stew — despite comprising none of the spices and masalas Indian food is so famous for — is a cure for all ills.

The average Gujju salivates at the very mention of undhiyu, hunger and childhood nostalgia kicking in at once. In a state famous for its dhokla, fafda, khakra, and khandvi, it is the haughty undhiyu that has a national day of its own. But is the hype worth it?

The reason I love sorpotel so much could be because it was my first solid meal. Legend has it my mum ran out of baby food so my grandmother turned sorpotel and khichdi into Cerelac on crack and fed it to me. Even today, there is nothing more comforting than a steaming bowl of khichdi, accentuated with a few tablespoons of the luscious curry.

Even in the coldest of Finnish winters the comfort of ghar ka khana can warm your heart enough to brave the sharp chill in the air and the stinging ice in your face. And nobody understood that better than my maa.

All grandparents seem to share a universal love of feeding their grandkids. YouTube’s favourite Grandpa of Grandpa Kitchen fame, who cooked for orphans, was no different. Thank you for reminding us that to make a difference, sometimes all you need is a little Loving, Caring, and Sharing.

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.

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.

The humble varan bhaat toop is as versatile and ubiquitous as Radhika Apte’s appearances on Netflix. Sometimes it is plain simple comfort food, at other times it’s part of an elaborate offering to Bappa. A love for varan bhaat toop is the epitome of Maharashtrian-ness.

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.

It takes a bit to get used to Britannia’s eccentricities: the sleepy cat on the counter, the Union Jack and cut-outs of the British royal family on the walls. But of all the quirks of this nearly 100-year-old cafe, there are none that approach the legendary status of the proprietor himself.

You remember that gym hottie you were eyeing for weeks? And how when he finally opened his mouth to crack a joke, your world fell apart. Fondant cake is no different. It’s got the looks, but you take a bite and you know what disappointment tastes like.

Food blogs are constantly adapting to every new diet trend, perpetually coming up with questionable keto, vegan, and Whole 30 spins on traditional favourites. While their creative thinking is laudable, surely we can all agree that spiralised zucchini makes a salad, not a pasta dish?

For most people I know, it’s impossible not to get lost in nostalgia at the mere mention of Parle-G. The biscuit was my diabetic grandfather’s favourite treat. And the only way to get my school watchmen to open the gates and let you inside after the morning bell was with bribes of Parle-G.

Ask any TamBrahm, and they would swear by their kula deivam (family God) that not wrapping up a meal with thayir-sadam (curd rice) and some lemon pickle is enough to get you ostracised.

What’s a “female beer”, you ask? Well, if a Gurgaon pub is to be believed, it’s some sort of sweet cocktail mixture that promises to awaken your inner tigress with just a few sips. Now all we need is those “lady-friendly” Doritos for chakna.

Jiggs Kalra, the flamboyant chef, changed the way we looked at Indian food – how it could be cooked and consumed. He put a bit of Kashmir in Kanyakumari and Bengal in Bombay.

On a good day, RoohAfza tastes like a vampire’s tonic that drowned itself in a vat of sugar. On a bad day, it tastes like pulverised incense stick. What then is the hype really about?

My young nephew knows A for Asparagus, B for Broccoli, and C for Celery. While the proletariat “palak” and “methi” draw a blank from him, his eyes light up with joyful recognition at the mention of rocket, kale, and arugula. His international school has only taught him about “angezi sabzi”.

As a child growing up in Calcutta, we were raised to believe that if the mango was the king of all fruits, the Himsagar was the emperor. It is all about swag, style, and a symbol of Bengali pride. When I moved to Mumbai, I approached the Alphonso with all the cynicism of a Bengali. And then I was smitten by its fragrance.

Dear jackfruit, you are about to replace moringa as the next best thing to have happened to the white gut. The Brits have branded you a “vegan sensation”. Be prepared to be passed off as a burger patty, meatballs, or a crab cake.

Being vegetarian has never been an option in my household. But when my newly vegetarian friend asked how I could be a “woke” animal lover and still eat meat, I didn’t have an answer. The worst part? The judgment from my parents – my mutton-kebab-eating parents.