Do Not Read This Book While Hungry
Do not read this book when you are hungry! Oh my god—aloo bhorta, goru bhuna, fuchka… it didn’t even matter that I have never tried any of these foods, I craved them! I stopped reading and started contemplating my perfect daal recipe, imagining all the ways I can make the dish more hearty, more comforting, and aromatic. I added mustard oil and spices to my grocery list. And I did all of this in the middle of the night, fighting the urge to raid the fridge, so yeah, do not read this book when you are hungry!
After establishing how this book pushed my foodie buttons in the most delicious and torturous ways, let me introduce you to another aspect of it that I crazily loved reading about: fandoms! I am not specifically into wrestling, but I had no problem with Zarina being super nerdy about it. The author loves wrestling, understands the lore of it, and it shows. I specifically loved how this story explored social media and fandoms—how they manipulate our desire to be acknowledged and appreciated. But it doesn’t always have to be bad; some connections and genuine love can still be found in those spaces.
I envisioned Zarina as a young version of Asma Khan, one of my favorite chefs, who also has Bengali heritage. But it’s not just that. It’s like both fictional Zarina and very real Asma are putting pieces of themselves, their memories, and their heritage into a pot to nourish everyone around them. Like food is the purest expression of who they are.
For more Asma Khan, check out the sixth season of Chef’s Table, her cookbooks, Trevor Noah’s podcast, or—if you happen to be in London—her restaurant, Darjeeling Express. (My fandom for Asma, as you can see, matches Zarina’s devotion to Sierra Myst.)
For more P. Paramita, well, you don’t have many options since this is her debut. I can’t believe this is her debut!