Spice Chronicles

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Spice Chronicles

Every day recipes that taste authentic and fit into a busy lifestyle. I love any appliances that

A weblog offering a world of Delicious Dependable Cooking from a New York Kitchen. The food capers of a suburban working mom, with two kids, a foodie cat and a gardener husband. Speaking of regional flavors, check out my award winning cookbook, The Bengali Five Spice Chronicles.

09/08/2026

Sprouts has officially landed in Hartsdale — and apparently decided to give Trader Joe’s a run for its money in the parking-lot-chaos department. 😅

First impressions: the bulk bins are definitely interesting, although I was a little surprised not to see more beans and legumes. There’s plenty to explore, but opening-day lines are not exactly ideal for a leisurely food nerd wander.

So consider this the preview, not the review. Once the crowds settle down, I’ll go back, poke around properly, and tell you what I really think.

09/02/2026

The bane of an empty-nest kitchen: leftovers and the occasional kitchen disaster. 😅

The good news? By the time I actually post a recipe, I’ll have worked out a seriously good sauce.

Playing around with leftover chicken tonight and making a pretty respectable attempt at Kung Pao Chicken—spicy, savory, a little sweet, and definitely worth another round. 🌶️🥜

08/17/2026

Seattle photo dump 💙☀️ Blue skies, long walks, and some of my absolute Pike Place favorites — Mee Sum pastries, Honest Biscuits, Piroshky Piroshky, and plenty of wandering and eating along the way.

Of course, no Seattle visit is complete without a stop at my favorite Thai spot… but the very best part was getting to spend time with some of my favorite boys. 💕

Seattle, you were very good to me. 🌊☀️🥟

PikePlaceMarket PikePlace PiroshkyPiroshky MeeSumPastry SeattleThaiFood PacificNorthwest PNW FoodAndTravel TravelDiaries FoodieTravels BlueSkies CityAdventures MakingMemories SpiceChronicles

05/24/2026

365 Days of Mom — Day 31

Playing around with the ever-popular chicken and rice skillet dinner. I’ve finally settled on a non-dramatic Instant Pot version — though honestly it can easily be done in a skillet too. One day I’ll cobble together a proper recipe.

Mom thought the whole Instant Pot phenomenon was mildly ridiculous. She believed good food came from instinct, patience, and standing over a stove. But even while rolling her eyes at my gadgets, she always supported my culinary adventures wholeheartedly.

Somewhere along the way those experiments became The Instant Indian Cookbook.

Funny how love sometimes looks like skepticism paired with unwavering encouragement.

Tonight’s version has chicken, mushrooms, rice, and comfort — the kind of meal meant more for exhaling than impressing.

05/22/2026

365 Days of Mom — Day 29: International Tea Day ☕🌍

Tea was never just a beverage in our home. It was ritual, comfort, conversation, and memory poured into a cup. On this International Tea Day, I find myself thinking about another tea Mom loved — Kahwa (or Kehwa), that fragrant Kashmiri tea infused with saffron, cardamom, cinnamon, and almonds.

For Mom, tea was always about slowing down long enough to savor life. Darjeeling in the mornings, ginger tea on rainy afternoons, and kahwa when we wanted something warming and special. The aroma alone could make a house feel softer.

Over the years, I’ve collected tea cups from different corners of the world — tiny reminders of travels, stories, and people. Some delicate, some mismatched, some chipped with age. Mom would have loved that none of them are “perfect,” because for her the beauty was always in the memory attached to the cup, not the cup itself.

Today, I brewed a pot of kahwa and pulled out a few favorite cups. A quiet tribute to the woman who taught me that hospitality begins with putting the kettle on, and that some of life’s deepest connections happen over tea shared slowly.

05/18/2026

Day 24 of 365 Days of Mom

Making paneer has become one of those deeply calming kitchen rituals for me. Heating the milk slowly, watching the curds separate, tying the cheesecloth, pressing it gently into shape — it asks for patience in a way that feels grounding.

Mom hated wasting anything in the kitchen, especially the whey left behind after making paneer. She would always find a use for it long before “zero waste cooking” became fashionable. Lately I’ve been learning that whey can even nourish acid-loving plants in the garden, and somehow that feels exactly like her — care extending from the kitchen into the soil.

Funny how the smallest habits stay with us the longest.

05/17/2026

Day 24 — 365 Days of Mom

“Tui boddo bhaja bhuji khaas” — you eat far too much fried food.
One of Ma’s most repeated lines, usually delivered while I happily reached for another fish fry, chop, or crispy something straight out of the pan. And yet somehow, she always made the best fried food herself.

Today’s 365 Days of Mom was quieter. A little gardening, a little healing. I spent time trying to bring life back to a tired dark patch in the yard — planting hostas and deep red coral bells, hoping shade and patience can still create something beautiful. Maybe that’s what grief is too: tending carefully to the places that feel bare.

And yes Ma, I still love bhaja bhuji. 🌿✨

05/14/2026

Day 20 of Mom.

Some memories begin not with grand occasions, but with the quiet rhythm of ordinary mornings. In Kolkata, tea and biscuits started the day before anything else did. A pot of strong Darjeeling tea simmered gently with ginger, the steam filling the kitchen before the city fully woke up.

Mom loved the perfect cup of tea. Not hurried, not careless. The balance had to be just right — the fragrance of the Darjeeling leaves, the warmth of ginger, the color of the brew, the comforting pairing of tea with biscuits and conversation. Tea was never just tea for her. It was ritual, hospitality, and love.

There was always time for that ritual in Kolkata. Here in New York, life rarely allows for that kind of pause except maybe on weekends. But every cup of ginger tea still takes me back to those mornings with Mom, to a pace of life that felt softer and more connected.

Some rituals stay with us long after the kitchen table is gone. ☕💛

05/13/2026

Day 19 of 365 Days of Mom ❤️

Tonight I made chili crisp salmon — roasted with a chili crisp, honey, and lime marinade that caramelized into something smoky, sweet, spicy, and deeply comforting.

Salmon was actually new for Mom once upon a time. She grew up with the fish of Bengal — mustardy hilsa, delicate pabda, tangra curries simmered with care. Salmon entered our kitchen much later, almost cautiously. But over time, she grew to love its rich flavor and silky texture, and I loved knowing I was cooking something nourishing for her — full of warmth, comfort, and those treasured omega-rich goodnesses we always talked about.

Food becomes memory in the quietest ways. A marinade. A familiar plate. The instinct to call someone and say, “You would have loved this.”

So tonight’s dinner was for Mom. Another small act of remembering. Another day in this journey of carrying her forward through food, stories, and love.

05/11/2026

This Mother’s Day feels different.
There is deep gratitude in spending it quietly with my son — sharing a meal, small conversations, ordinary moments that suddenly feel precious. And at the same time, there is an ache that sits beside all of it. The first Mother’s Day without my own mother.

Loss has a strange way of sharpening love. Today I find myself replaying her voice, her strength, her rituals, the way she made care feel effortless even when life was anything but. So much of who I am — as a mother, as a woman, as a person — was shaped in the shelter of her love.

I understand now that grief and gratitude can exist together. I miss her deeply, but I also carry her with me in every gesture of nurturing, every recipe, every act of resilience, every attempt to create warmth for the people I love.

Today is for her.
For the woman who taught me how to give, how to endure, how to love fiercely.
And for the quiet gift of still being able to hold my child close while honoring the mother I lost. ❤️

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