And here it is! My first post under the “Food: Recipe Legacy”. You know I had imagined this section would begin with something like a rare, nostalgic recipe I would extract from a daily phone call with my mom (which, yes, will happen soon!). But as usual, my writing takes its own routes…

Anyhow, what truly nudged me into finally activating this part of the blog was a message on one of the WhatsApp groups I am part of here in Germany. It is called the “Indian ladies group in Germany” and while to most it might sound like one of those typical community groups where you are added by a well-meaning friend, or you are too polite or too lazy to exit, where the notifications are usually on mute, and most messages get a quick scroll-past…No, this group can sometimes be actually quite refreshing and fun. Probably because what makes it special is the way people share. The questions asked are so scattered, spontaneous and natural: cooking tip, hair product suggestions, seek posts, how to get rid of bathroom mold, visa-related matters or something deeply personal, there is always something fascinating. I mean this is a group of 500+ women, most of whom I have never met, and only a couple I even remotely know and yet there is no hesitance in asking or responding to any query, probably because there is just an unspoken warmth and solidarity for no real specific reason apart from the fact that we all have our roots in India, live in Germany and perhaps have some common gendered practices.

Anyway, coming back to the nudge part of this blog, so someone on this WhatsApp group casually asked, “Hello all, where can I get ENO (fruit salt) substitute in Germany?”

Obviously, while some of the responses pointed her to local South Asian or Indian supermarkets in the region, one of the replies literally stopped me in my tracks as I was travelling to work. The response was “Yes, you get an alternate in German supermarkets called Natron, but if you also want the sourness of ENO, you need to mix Natron and Citronensäure to get the exact taste.”

This reply blew my mind not just for the chemistry of it, trying to get as close as possible to the ENO fruit salt taste, but because of what the response in a broader sense represents. It took me back to my PhD days where I often thought of how migration does not just involve people moving across borders, but also an empathetic acquiring and adaptation of so many things…tastes, textures, cravings and well, what not. It is simply about the everyday genius of people trying to recreate or amalgamate the flavour of “home” with what is available in a new space.

And perhaps it might seem like just another question in a WhatsApp group of over 500 members, easy to scroll past. But it struck me how much culinary memory and adaptation exists beneath such simple questions. Given all the recent developments across borders, we might have Indian or global supermarkets a short walk away, but the desire to recreate, to experiment, to approximate a taste from home using what is locally available in a new land, now that’s what makes this exchange so meaningful.

And I find it truly remarkable to reflect on the inventive alternatives that have emerged through this group, and how this kind of a creative appropriation not only bridges geographical and cultural distances, but it also speaks to the need to preserve, recreate. All of this reflects the sheer resilience and adaptability of culinary memory that we hold so dear to our hearts and want to pass on through generations. And in this specific context, it brings together the daily kitchens of India and Germany in the most unexpected, yet beautiful ways.

I wonder if immigrants from other nations do this too. Pretty sure, they do! It cannot just be one of those “Indian” things? Haha. “Indian” things! And here I am often asking myself What is “Indian” or any nationality for that matter anyway especially when it comes to something as fundamental as hunger? We all need to eat, to nourish ourselves. And it is one of the most basic instincts shared by every species on this plant. The need to eat clearly transcends the boundaries of being human, leave alone the labels of nationality, gender, religion, and so on that we carry. It is a need that truly connects all life forms on our beautiful planet. In that moment of craving or comfort, what matters is obviously not identity, but imagination: the simple, universal act of trying to satisfy hunger in a way that meets your basic need.

And yet, look at food. One of the most beautiful and creative innovations of humankind to meet that basic need. Have you ever imagined a pigeon suddenly wishing for some salt and pepper while pecking away at grains? Or a lion wanting to spice up that giant piece of flesh it just hunted. Maybe they do? I don’t know, do you? But for humans, the thought, the creativity, the sheer joy of satisfying a craving! It is unlike anything else. I was telling my husband the other day. Think of “Pani Puri”. What other species on this planet could even conceive of such an invention to satisfy the taste bud? And yet, we are probably also the only species on this planet that has given names to cuisines by nationality/region, claimed ownership over dishes, and sadly, have even waged wars over food. Don’t even get me started on this topic.

Instead, I am now thinking of “Dahi puri” because of another recurring question in the same WhatsApp group: “How do you make khatta dahi (sour yogurt) at home in Germany?”

Of course, the array of responses is always interesting. Some suggest YouTube tutorials, temperature hacks, yogurt starter tricks. But one member suggested using a “Landliebe” yogurt and setting it at just the right temperature using an Instant Pot. Clearly, these are all not just tips for me. I would call them little overnight soaked almonds of knowledge…those tiny pieces of wisdom your parents force you to eat in the morning especially before an exam! And given that my imagination can really stretch knowing no bounds, I would also call these tips a form of art…their own poetry depicting culinary imaginations and truly defining the aporias of migration. Mitti ki jo hai khusboo, tu kaise bhulayega …

Thanks Sonal and Jheel for the “khatta dahi” and “ENO” wisdom! To every inventive home cook adapting recipes with love and to every parent on the phone saying chutki bhar/swaad anusaar (a pinch of it/as per taste) instead of precise instructions in teaspoons! And of course, to food for keeping us alive, for being a form of art, memory, invention, and resilience, all at once.

With this, I am officially opening this blog section and will start to list some of these amazing Indo-German ingredient alternatives, and most importantly some family recipes! Suggestions for ingredient alternatives and your own family recipes are always welcome via comments or my contact page.

Until next time! With a promise of a recipe from our large family’s secret kitchen. Stay curious! Stay hungry! Or maybe not. Don’t stay hungry for too long!