I had the honour of being interviewed in my capacity as a food blogger for The Saturday Post – here is the full feature.
This week I had the honour of guest blogging for someone who has become a close friend of mine through the blogging world- Prerna of Indian Simmer. Prerna is a phenomenal cook and food writer from In...
If you were friendly with one of the House Prefects, you were always guaranteed a thick stack of those buttery, crumbly biscuits for dipping into your milky tea. At 10am, as the bell rang, all of us ...
Kulsum of Journey Kitchen takes poetic, dreamy photographs of Indian-food-with-a-modern-twis t, reminding you of that picnic you plan to have with your friends nestled under a 700-year-old olive tree,...
Food blogging is my passion, but it comes with a challenge that I have recently experienced. There is the issue of copyright infringement and plagiarism. Bloggers see their complete recipes being cop...
Aglio, olio, peperoncino. Tossed with some spaghetti and it’s a full meal for the five friends who end up at your place after a night of hearing the legendary jazz pianist Chucho Valdés perform at th...
My Nani Ami used to make a humble ‘meat and potatoes’ dish- fragranced with notes of spicy ginger and black cardamom, it was cooked slowly, over a low flame. It wasn’t like that posh ‘mea...
There is a tiny panificio on the corner of Via Galvani and Via Mastro Giorgio in Testaccio where they sell wee rose-shaped hollow bread rolls called rosette. If you’re going to pop in to buy th...
Serves 4 Ingredients: *400g (approximately 2 cups) chana lentils *1 small onion *3 small tomatoes *1 tsp tomato paste (optional) *
Dear Lovely Readers, Thank you for your readership over the past few years and for all the support. I wanted to wish you all a Happy New Year- I hope that you had a fun and relaxing holiday. Many of ...
Lahore. The city of my birth. The city of the humble samosa. That flaky, deep-fried triangular parcel stuffed with cumin-laced, spicy potatoes you buy from the dhaba; kiosk, from that little alley be...
Honestly, I understand the sentiment, but what was the hotel thinking when they put a 20cm sparkler on my birthday cake? At midnight on Friday, my husband almost set the bed on fire, and no, I am not...
That coral pink sludge we used to buy from the Sainsbury’s closest to our dorm was usually scooped up with salt and vinegar crisps. Taramosalata it was called. My Greek friend MM had introduced...
I can’t understand why I never tried a Reese’s Pieces when I was a child, maybe because the epic joy of having a jolly rancher with its neon watermelon and green apple flavours seemed mor...
I loved those kaanch ki churiyaan; glass bangles you’d find right before Eid at the Anarkali Bazaar in Lahore’s Old City. The vendors had every colour you could imagine- neon lemon, bubble-gum pink, ...
I am honoured to have been interviewed by one of Pakistan’s most prestigious and widely-read English-language magazines for their September issue. Here is the link to the three-page feature.
It looked like a tangled mess, those sawayyan; vermicelli, lying in a mound in the silver-gilt rim white porcelain dish on Eid morning in Nani Ami’s home. Next to it lay dainty matching bowls w...
The Bullying. Stratford Landing Elementary School, Grade 2. In a suburb of Washington DC. Ami used to make me sandwiches for lunch so I wouldn’t have to eat the horrid spaghetti in bolognese sa...
Toot toot! That is the sound of my horn, and I hope you don’t mind the sound of it, because The Spice Spoon was featured in The Independent as 50 of the world’s best food websites. ‘...
At the Ciragan Palace in Istanbul last summer, having lots of scrumptious little bites and long, cool drinks.
It was the sort of evening where dessert had to be eaten first. It was the end of June and the tiny, scarlet, sweet-as-jam wild strawberries, le fragoline di Nemi were in season. Baba was visiting me...
I don’t have friendships which have lasted thirty-some odd years. I don’t have friends from kindergarten that I grew up and stayed up late at night with around the bonfire during summer c...
Blog post is in response to a request from my friend AFC- who loved his masala omelettes during his business trips to India. I like to eat my masala omelette placed between two pieces of soft, untoas...
Her name was Bridget but we called her Aunty Brige. Not pronounced ‘bridge’, like the one which connects two points across a river, but Brige, with a long ‘i’, as in liege. Sh...
Ami and Nani Ami in Murree, Pakistan It’s dreadfully difficult to find ice in Rome. It’s considered an American thing- ‘ma, tu sei Americana?‘, the server joked with my sister...
Carb on carb is considered very naughty. But we, the Afghans do it, the Pakistanis do it with our spiced potato sauté mopped up with pillowy naan; the Poles do it with their pierogies and you haven...
I first tried “gossip” when I lived in Rome. No, not that kind. I learned what gossip was in the kindergarten when my ‘husband’, Jamie and I paid Gina for a pound of tomatoes and instead of putting t...
Lago di Albano is shaped like an egg and glistens like lapis lazuli under the sun. When the sun starts to set, the shadows from the poplar trees in the Colli Albani above deepen the colour of the vol...
I was 18, Maria, my youngest sister was 10. Standing on Paris’ Pont Alexandre III, we took the ultimate-touristic shot. It didn’t matter that we had been coming to Paris all our lives; Ba...
Salted caramels from Trader Joe’s and saffron strands from Yekta were always packed into my suitcase for my trip back home to Rome. And when I was really lucky, I’d get to take back a blu...
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