The blog hit a milestone I didn't see coming: a literary agent reached out. A real one. From New York. She read the blog and the column and she emailed me — me, Priya Krishnamurthy-Patel, pharmacist in Edison, New Jersey — and said: "Have you ever thought about writing a book?"
I stared at the email for so long that my computer went to sleep.
Have I thought about writing a book? I have a leather journal with one hundred and seventy pages. I have a blog with fifteen thousand readers. I have a monthly column called "Between Two Kitchens." I have a mother who measures in handfuls and a daughter who eats rasam rice with her fists. Have I thought about writing a book?
Every day. Every week. Every time I sit in the rocking chair at 3 AM and write about sambar and motherhood and the distance between a recipe and a life.
I called Raj. "A literary agent emailed me."
"About what?"
"About a book."
"YOUR book?"
"She thinks I could write a book."
"You've been writing a book. You just didn't know it."
He's right. The journal, the blog, the column — they're all pieces of the same thing. The thing I've been making, the way Amma makes sambar — adding ingredients over time, tasting and adjusting, building layer by layer until something emerges.
I'm not ready to say yes. Not yet. I need to think about what the book would be, what shape it would take, how to hold my mother's recipes and my own stories in a container that people can hold.
But the agent is real. The possibility is real. The book is real, somewhere in the pages I've already written.
I made Amma's murukku tonight. The spirals were still too wide. But I've stopped seeing that as failure. The spirals are mine — wider than Amma's, imperfect, consistent in their imperfection. My murukku, not hers. My version, not her version.
Maybe that's what the book will be. My version. Not exact. Not Amma's. Mine.
Wider spirals and all.
After I made the murukku — wider spirals and all — and after I stared at that email until my screen went dark, I needed something sweet to match the feeling. Not Amma’s sweet. Mine. This Cashew Candy Crunch is the kind of thing I make when I want to mark a moment: fast, a little indulgent, golden and crunchy in a way that feels like a reward. Cashews have always been my celebration ingredient — the handful Amma dropped into everything that mattered — and tonight they felt exactly right.
Cashew Candy Crunch
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 2 cups roasted, salted cashews
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 1/2 cup light corn syrup
- 1/4 cup water
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt (plus more to finish, optional)
Instructions
- Prepare your surface. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone mat and lightly grease it. Set it near the stove — you’ll need to move fast once the candy is ready.
- Cook the sugar syrup. In a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the sugar, corn syrup, and water over medium-high heat. Stir just until the sugar dissolves, then stop stirring and let it cook, swirling the pan occasionally, until the mixture reaches 300°F (hard crack stage) on a candy thermometer, about 10–12 minutes. The syrup will turn a pale amber.
- Add the cashews and butter. Remove from heat and immediately stir in the cashews, butter, and vanilla extract. The mixture will bubble up — stir quickly to coat all the cashews evenly.
- Fold in the baking soda. Sprinkle in the baking soda and stir briskly. The candy will foam and lighten in color. This is what gives the crunch its airy, brittle texture.
- Spread and season. Immediately pour the mixture onto the prepared baking sheet and spread it as thin as you can with a greased spatula. Sprinkle with a pinch of flaky sea salt if desired. Work quickly before it sets.
- Cool completely. Let the candy cool at room temperature for at least 15 minutes, until fully hardened. Break into irregular pieces by hand or with the back of a spoon.
- Store. Keep in an airtight container at room temperature, separated by layers of parchment, for up to 1 week.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 115mg
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 174 of Priya’s 30-year story
· Edison, New Jersey
Priya is a pharmacist, wife, and mom of two in Edison, New Jersey — the town she grew up in, surrounded by the sights and smells of her mother's South Indian kitchen. These days, she splits her time between the hospital pharmacy, school pickups, and her own kitchen, where she cooks nearly every night. Her style is a blend of the Tamil recipes her mother taught her and the American comfort food her kids actually want to eat. She writes about the beautiful mess of balancing two cultures on one plate — and she wants you to know that ordering pizza is also an act of love.