Blending is for my Blender

...not for me (or you). Plus, exclusive recipes from my pop-up dinner in nyc

I think about blending a lot. Sauces, fillings, soups. To mix and combine until the constituent parts are indistinguishable. Makes sense for a smoothie. Not so much for me.  

But, I’ve tried.

I have been trying to blend in for most of my life, though I wouldn’t exactly describe my efforts as yielding “indistinguishable” results. Come to think of it, I actually don’t think I’ve ever really even been that good at blending. I mean, give me some dates and almond butter and I’ll give you the most luscious caramel to ever exist. I’ve got that kind of blending on lock. As for me? There has always been a part of me resistant to the blades, unwilling to become something that I ultimately am not.

giving out homemade samosas for my first grade class :’)

My parents immigrated to the United States when they were in high school. Despite them bringing their Indian roots and customs with them, it was thoroughly and completely challenging for me to believe that those roots belonged to me too.

What did belong to me though, was the feeling that I didn’t. Sure, I had friends growing up, but the puzzle never fit and it felt obvious that I didn’t look like nor was I like the other kids in school. Though I was (and am) extremely proud of my heritage, I felt a strong need to hide it in order to make my existence more palatable for the western community I was engrained within. Mine is not a new story, it’s the immigrant one. Bringing sukha gosht sandwiches were eventually swapped for Nutella ones, and traded in with Lunchables and Poptarts. Like everyone else. 

Feeling different from others at such a young age, despite my parents’ successful assimilation instilled a seed of a notion that planted itself within me deeply and grew well into my adult years – that my worth depended on how well I could fit into a mold. How much I could be liked by others. How small I could become, and amenable I could be. I watered this seed. Over and over. Challenge accepted, I guess.

But I’ve spent most of my life trying to achieve that smoothness – being accommodating, a pleaser type, to ensure that sticking out even further was not an option for me. I yearned for an ease of being twirled along into an existence of uniformity. Everything coming together smoothly, blending seamlessly – as if I wasn’t an odd part at all, just something that could fit easily into the sum. Belonging. 

Belonging is interesting. Isn’t it? Why do we choose to chase acceptance from others over that of ourselves? It took me time to realize that it was all supposed to come from me. Everyone on earth could accept the version of myself I had manufactured and conjured up for the sake of peak palatability, but if I didn’t accept it, if I didn’t trust it, or believe in it, well, none of it really matters does it? No one is me. No one is you. That’s pretty much all we need to remember.

I used to ask myself, who am I? Where do I fit in? I guess what I should have been asking myself is how do I stand out? I want to move toward that. It is finally resisting this urge to chameleon myself for others. Not owning up to who I know I am and could be. I have the privilege of doing so now, so here I am. I have been trying to fit myself into the confines of a room — not registering the fact that the room actually has no walls. The walls are in my head! Made up. Imagined. And I, you, we – can be more than one thing. 

I am this and that. I like cookies and brownies. I am a people pleaser and a boundary setter. I am words and actions. I am brave and I am afraid. I am Indian and American.

So, where does this leave me, then? A little…bit…confused. But in a good way. The funny thing is, I turned my people pleasing into palate pleasing and I’m pretty happy about that. One is obviously more delicious than the other, wouldn’t you say?

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DADA DATE NIGHT: A POP-UP DINNER

The menu I wrote for my pop-up dinners in New York last week was a pure manifestation of this (healthy) confusion, in a way that feels like me and no one else. I wanted to set out to create Indian dishes that felt reverent and respectful, while also smattering in the plant-based comfort food nature of the work I’ve been doing for almost 10 years (wow, crazy to believe). 

I have never, EVER been more overwhelmed with gratitude, love, and pure disbelief at how many people showed up for this dinner, on both nights. I am deeply cognizant of the time, energy, and resources it takes to even pull yourself out of your home and travel to an event or to a dinner (whether you’re right around the corner, or have to hop on a train, car, or plane)– and I am as deeply thankful that people chose to spend all of those things on a night with me. Wow. Thank you. All I have ever wanted to do is feed people in more ways than one - delicious food, of course, but also love, belonging, acceptance, and joy. It fills me more than you could EVER know. I mean just look at how cheese I am, lol:

you can literally see all of my teeth

To those who couldn’t make it, or aren’t local, I promise that I will be making an effort to do these events more in other cities and places in the future!! It was soooooo much fun. I can’t wait. Please drop a comment on this post and let me know where I should pop-up next!

RECIPES

In the meantime, I’m so excited to share with you a couple of recipes I cooked for the pop-up dinner. They were such a hit and I am so excited for you to bring them into your own kitchen! I hope you enjoy making them at home. Let’s cook -

SWEET POTATO CHAAT with Date-Tamarind & Green Chutneys, Coconut Yogurt,