Navaratri, year three. Anaya's first. She's four months old and has no idea what's happening, but she's wearing a tiny pavadai (the traditional Tamil dress for girls) that Amma had custom-made in Chennai by a cousin's daughter who does embroidery, and she looks like a miniature temple goddess.
Amma made the full Navaratri spread. She also made a kolu — the traditional display of dolls arranged on nine steps, representing the nine nights. The kolu is a Navaratri tradition that Amma has maintained every year since immigrating. She has seventy-three dolls — wooden ones from India, porcelain ones she's collected over the years, a few that I made in school out of clay (terrible, lopsided, and displayed prominently because Amma's pride overrides her aesthetic standards).
This year, she added one: a tiny doll that she's had since her own childhood in Chennai. A wooden doll, painted with vegetable dyes, faded and chipped and approximately fifty years old. She placed it at the top of the kolu.
"For Anaya," she said. "This was mine when I was small. Now it's hers."
The doll, the wet grinder, the anklet. The things that travel from woman to woman, grandmother to granddaughter, the physical evidence of a love that doesn't need words because it has objects.
I helped Amma cook the Navaratri sundal — nine types, one for each day. Chickpea sundal, black-eyed pea sundal, peanut sundal, sweet corn sundal, green gram sundal, horse gram sundal, white beans sundal, rajma sundal, and moong dal sundal. Each one tempered differently, each one served to the women who visit the kolu.
Anaya sat in her bouncer watching us cook. Four months old, wearing a pavadai, surrounded by seventy-four dolls and nine types of sundal, absorbing the first Navaratri of her life.
She won't remember this. But I will. And the photos will. And the story I wrote about it for the blog will. Memory is not just neural — it's written, photographed, cooked into existence.
The chickpea sundal was perfect. Amma's always is.
Of all nine sundals Amma and I made that day, it was the simplicity of the bean ones that stayed with me — the way a humble legume, tempered with mustard seeds and curry leaves, becomes something ceremonial just by the intention you bring to it. This Southwestern Bean Chowder isn’t sundal, and it doesn’t pretend to be, but when I make it on an ordinary Tuesday I think about that kitchen, Anaya in her bouncer, and how beans cooked with love are beans cooked with love in any tradition. If your own kolu is metaphorical and your mustard seeds have been replaced by cumin, this recipe will still feed the same part of you.
Southwestern Bean Chowder
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 1 red bell pepper, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 teaspoon chili powder
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
- 2 cans (15 oz each) white beans or cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 can (14.5 oz) fire-roasted diced tomatoes
- 1 can (15 oz) whole kernel corn, drained
- 3 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
- 1/2 cup sour cream or plain Greek yogurt
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Fresh cilantro and lime wedges for serving
Instructions
- Sauté the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion and bell pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5–6 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Bloom the spices. Stir in the cumin, chili powder, smoked paprika, and cayenne if using. Cook for 30 seconds, stirring constantly, to toast the spices in the oil.
- Build the chowder. Add the white beans, black beans, fire-roasted tomatoes (with their juices), corn, and vegetable broth. Stir to combine and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
- Simmer and thicken. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes. Using the back of a spoon or a potato masher, gently mash about one-third of the beans directly in the pot to create a creamy, thickened base while keeping texture.
- Finish with cream. Remove the pot from heat and stir in the sour cream or Greek yogurt until fully incorporated. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh cilantro and a squeeze of lime juice. Serve with warm cornbread or crusty bread if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 290 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 11g | Sodium: 480mg
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 133 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.