Today as we celebrate Gudi Padva in Maharashtra which is marked as first day of the new year as per Hindu Lunisolar calendar. In some parts of country like Andhra Pradesh and Telangana this day is celebrated ad Ugadi and in Karnataka as Yugadi.
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Celebrating Passion for Food
Today as we celebrate Gudi Padva in Maharashtra which is marked as first day of the new year as per Hindu Lunisolar calendar. In some parts of country like Andhra Pradesh and Telangana this day is celebrated ad Ugadi and in Karnataka as Yugadi.
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The tiny beauties, as I write this, have found their way out from the Oven and have been placed in a neat linear arrangement on a rack. Typically, I write the blog after I have done with editing the videos and photos, however this time I couldn’t resist myself from pouring my heart out. My heart, looking at the second batch of cakes, as it spins in circles inside the Oven, is buzzing with excitement and a gentle aroma of khoa (reduced milk) that wafts out from the kitchen is getting me tranced.
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The city of Pune has established an identity for itself that is multi-faceted and dynamic as the youth of the city. Since decades it has been referred as Oxford of East and over the years it has done progressively better to retain its title. It houses nine deemed universities and more than 400 colleges in the city and students from all over the world come to city in pursuit of quality education. Pune has also been identified as a cultural center of Maharashtra which explains why major events like cultural festivals, film festivals, and literary events are arranged in the city.
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It lies in front of your eyes, delicately poised at the center of a plate, and its gentle aroma caresses your olfactory senses and you, with your eyes closed, let the moment seep inside you.
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Diwali mornings, every year similar scenes would be played out in our one room kitchen home. Mom would cajole me, threaten me and finally forcefully drag me out of bed. I would be required to find my way to bathroom and get ready before Mom lights up the house with clay diyas. I would trudge across laboriously taking a slight detour and make my way to kitchen instead. I would find it on the corner of a table kept in a large vessel, tightly covered.
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I am an eternal optimist, a person who would look for silver linings in every problem at hand. I stick to this philosophy for most events in my life, however I must admit, there are some events which I rue as a lost opportunity. I regret to have missed the gastronomic experience of trying out the Nawabi (royalty) recipe of Shahi Tukda during my trip to Lucknow last year. This feeling is more so justified when you know that the recipe originated from that city.
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The festival of Ganeshotsav is celebrated with great enthusiasm and excitement in India and more particularly in Maharashtra. This is a 10 day festival that starts with Ganesh Chaturthi. In Sanskrit, Chaturthi refers to fourth day and this festival is specifically celebrated during fourth day of the waxing moon in Bhadrapada as per Hindu calendar which comes around August-September.
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Indian mythology is replete with stories, some inspiring, some motivating and some that just tell you a tale of bravery, honesty, patience, dedication, intelligence and numerous other virtues. It is hard to tell whether these stories are based on element of truth or they are just figment of someone’s imagination but they have existed for years and years and would continue to do so because they help us learn these core values and improve as a human race.
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He would come pretty early in morning, cycling laboriously, with his paraphernalia that would add to the weight on his bicycle. He carried a big kadhai (pan), no not just big, a gigantic one, a large iron ladle, a fuel stove and enough fuel to last him the day. He would start with simmering the milk in that pan. I would mostly be in my slumber and would wake up to the pleasant aroma of milk, the milk that would had simmered for some time and filled up the streets with the aroma emanating from the pan.
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We all have grown up, listening to stories. There would be that one storyteller in the family, who would enthrall you with stories every night. I remember my Badi Maa (Father’s elder brother’s wife) was an avid story teller. We kids would play throughout the evening and when it would get darker, some elder would drag us back to home. At home, we would get restless and urge Badi Maa to finish off her chores, so she could spend more with us. More time would mean more stories.
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