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I have grown up loving food. I had never been much of a fussy eater – I remember my mother proudly testifying to that. So until I was 15 and I stayed at home, I did not really know what my ‘favorite food’ was. I liked anything that did justice to my gustatory sensibilities. (I have on occasion feigned stomach ache on knowing that the cook’s culinary skills are questionable). Anyhow, on turning 16, I went away to boarding school and it was after I went there that I realised what my favourite food was (not pasta, as I had earlier thought). It was my mother’s homemade fish and rice. I am Bengali, so I have grown up on all kinds of Bengali dishes. Yet, as I moved away to residential school and survived on cafeteria food, it was fish and rice that made my mouth water (and still does!)

One of my favourite kinds of Bengali fish is tilapia. Until I was eight, I would not eat lunch unless I was given tilapia curry with rice. Same dish, same mealtime story (Little red riding hood). This summer, I redeveloped my love for tilapia when I stayed at home and was continually fed with my choice of food. The tilapia is fried and then dipped into the ingredients of the curry after which the curry is made. My mother uses different techniques to cook this – either mustard paste, or ginger garlic paste, or a ‘clear’ curry with tomato paste and cumin seeds. That mixed with rice is my ultimate food – food that literally makes me happy. At home we eat with hand, and I firmly believe that doing so (mixing the rice and the fish curry with our fingers) adds to the taste and enjoyment of the meal.