I started writing again. Not just the food journal — something new. A blog.
The idea has been forming since the pregnancy, since the food journal became more than recipes, since the stories started mattering as much as the measurements. But this week, sitting in the rocking chair at 3 AM with Anaya asleep on my chest, I opened my laptop and wrote.
The first post: about sambar. About Amma's sambar. About the difference between a recipe and an inheritance. About measuring in handfuls and cooking until it's "ready" and the impossibility of writing down something that lives in muscle memory.
I wrote for forty-five minutes while Anaya slept. Then she woke up and I fed her and I wrote more with one hand while she nursed. It was messy and disjointed and brilliant in the way that 3 AM writing is always brilliant (and never, in the light of day, as good as you thought).
But in the morning, I reread it. And it was... not terrible. It was honest and specific and it sounded like me — not a food blogger, not a mommy blogger, but me. A pharmacist who cooks her mother's food and writes about why.
I showed it to Raj. He read it on his phone while eating breakfast and looked up and said, "You should publish this."
"Where?"
"Online. A blog. RecipeSpinoff, whatever. Somewhere people can read it."
"Nobody wants to read about my sambar."
"I want to read about your sambar. And if I do, other people will too."
I'm thinking about it. The thought terrifies me — putting my writing, my mother's recipes, my messy emotional life in front of strangers. But it also thrills me. Because the food journal was always private, and privacy felt safe but also limiting. The stories want to be read. The recipes want to be made. The life wants to be witnessed.
Maybe. Maybe I'll start a blog.
I made Amma's rasam for lunch. The writing version — the one I'd just written about. I tasted it and compared it to my words and thought: both of these are me. The food and the writing. The cooking and the telling.
Maybe they're the same thing.
The post I wrote at 3 AM was about sambar — about my Amma’s sambar — but the dish I kept coming back to while I wrote it was this one: a deeply seasoned garlic gravy, the kind that starts with patience and ends with something that smells like every kitchen she ever cooked in. It’s not sambar. But it carries the same logic, the same insistence that flavor is built slowly, in layers, and that garlic is always the beginning of something true. If this blog is going to be about the recipes that shaped me, this is as honest a place to start as any.
Seasoned Garlic Gravy
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 4 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 8 cloves garlic, minced
- 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 2 cups low-sodium chicken broth (or vegetable broth)
- 1/2 cup whole milk
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
- Salt to taste
- 1 tablespoon fresh parsley, chopped (for garnish)
Instructions
- Melt the butter. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter until it begins to foam slightly but has not browned.
- Bloom the garlic. Add the minced garlic and cook, stirring frequently, for 2–3 minutes until fragrant and just beginning to turn golden at the edges. Do not let it burn.
- Build the roux. Sprinkle the flour over the garlic and butter. Whisk constantly for 1–2 minutes to cook out the raw flour taste. The mixture will look paste-like and slightly golden.
- Add the broth. Slowly pour in the broth, about 1/4 cup at a time, whisking vigorously after each addition to prevent lumps. Once all the broth is incorporated, the mixture should be smooth and beginning to thicken.
- Season and simmer. Stir in the milk, onion powder, smoked paprika, black pepper, and thyme. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for 8–10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the gravy reaches your desired consistency.
- Taste and adjust. Taste for salt and pepper, adjusting as needed. The garlic should be forward but not sharp — mellow, savory, and rounded.
- Serve. Ladle over rice, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, or warm bread. Garnish with fresh parsley.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 110 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 7g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 310mg
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 124 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.