Spicy Happiness
“Is it your birthday?”
“I don't care, I want two Samosas as party. ’’
"You lost the match? No problem .Let’s eat samosas."
 These are some lovely lines quoted by every student of our school.
 Small, crushed yellow potatoes mixed in flour, salt and fried black pepper.
These triangles of happiness fried in hot boiling oil in big cauldron attract every one.
Ours is a big school in the lap of nature. In a remote corner of our school...

Four letters that make every connoisseur, every chef, every home cook turn their heads. Four letters that are not just our sustenance but are the livelihood, the hobby, the passion, the literal bread and butter of the existence of so many people.

Food.

Whether a lasagna oozing with cheese and still warm from the oven, freshly picked plums with juice that runs down our chins as we take the first bite, fish and chips wrapped up in paper and taken...

    A colorful salad, artfully arranged on a plate. The feel of sticky bread dough in your hands. The crunch of a chip, perfectly thin that just snaps when you bite it.  The scent of cinnamon wafting through the air. The taste of warm chocolate, as you dig in to a fresh chocolate chip cookie. This is my childhood. These things bring back memories that I wasn't even aware I had. Food can help use all of our senses to...

Here is food for thought, there is enough food on Earth at the moment to feed every person more than they need to be healthy and full. The only problem is that quite a substantial amount of it is in the wrong places and isn't being spread in accordance with equity and equality. Equity is "the quality of being fair and impartial" (Dictionary.Com) whereas equality is "a symbolic expression of the fact that two quantities are equal; an equation" (Google...

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            Today is an interesting day for me because I get to set up a New Year’s party for going into 2020.  The requirement for this historic dinner party is to just invite 3 people from the past or a fictional character from a book to the dinner. I don’t really understand how to do that but, I tried. I entered in the names Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, and I even tried to invite a novel character called the Historian...

It’s warm. Not like a soup, but like a bubble bath. Smooth stock runs down my throat and
the fragrance of a fisherman’s blazing afternoon in a shrimp boat on the bayou envelops my
nose. If you tried gumbo from a Black grandmother, you would know what I mean.
With a kitchen cabinet overflowing with Cajun seasonings and spices growing up, I never
realized how good I had it until a white friend told me casserole wasn’t a myth and...