How far would I travel for the best meal of my life?
Not too far. To my kitchen. I am not a culinary specialist by any means but the best meal of my life can be prepared with fresh, homemade spices that are delivered from India every six months; the utensils that have seen me grow from just making food to cooking with patience and smiles; my obedient spatulas that been seasoned enough over the flame and the faithful stove that has never let me down – translating my simple skills into a clean, perfect meal.
No meal is complete without a distinct setting – I would carry the food out to my backyard on a humid afternoon when it is raining; seat myself on an old but comfortable, patio armchair and watch every shred of grass, every shrub, fed with pearly water while I savor my sumptuous lunch. A glass of water from a cool, earthen pot will serve as the best companion throughout.
Some find best meals at places they love most, some find it in their favorite restaurants – to me the best meal is not the one that makes you ecstatic to lust for food, but the one that brings a smile to your face with its freshness, authenticity, accessibility and simplicity.