In the past two years of being back home (I really need to change how I say this. Working on that), I have found job, moved to a new job, cut down travel time from 1.5 hours to 25 minutes, found an industry that I love (I think), adopted a dog, found a passion in cooking that I have been able to sustain and grow, lost a grandmother, and along with that, lost a bunch of weight. I have taken my time to talk about a lot of these things with friends, family, and through this blog. I really love writing this blog because its ability to reach people old and new who either resonate with the thoughts, or push back which just helps me understand new perspectives. Every now and then, I like to come back to things I have already talked about because unlike the words on a page, thoughts change; they grow, mature with age with new events and environment .

I remember writing about my weight loss a bunch of times. How giving up carbs was hard but once I did, it became a change in lifestyle that I could never give up. It became this placeholder— like a checkpoint in a first person shooter game which once reached allows you to spawn right back from even when you die. Recent events have made me feel otherwise. A couple of weeks ago, I was in my office bathroom. After finishing a specific expulsion process, I head to the wash basin where after much ape-like hand waving, I was able to activate the hands-free faucet and wash my hands. I then made my way to the tissue paper holder, where another man was standing wiping away his hands. Since the trash can was right underneath the tissues, I did the courteous thing and just let him do his thing. I was standing right behind him, allowing him socially acceptable amount of personal space. As I was standing, another man behind me (for whom the faucet worked at one go) walked around me and grabbed the tissue. As they both began to move towards the exit, I began thinking about how it felt rude that the second man just cut through; until I looked at the mirror and realised something shocking. What felt like “socially acceptable personal space” was more like “personal space for two.” Essentially, I was standing so far away, it just looked like I was enjoying watching the neck of this man who was just busy wiping down this hands.

I took me some time to understand that I had done this not because I was being a creep, but because of something even stranger— I still thought I was fat. Subconsciously, I gave the same amount of space as I would have two years ago when I was 25 kilos heavier and 6 inches wider around the waist. This realisation was so significant. It made me immensely happy (though, yes I still do wonder what that guy who cut me from behind must think). As I went about the week, sharing this with friends and just letting it percolate among my thoughts, I realised that losing weight has in fact been one of my greatest achievements. Something that might seem small to many, and I can see why, but has been such a great experience. Being able to do 10 pushups in a row, climb a rope (you know, regular things a person living in an urban city has to do everyday?), see my “foot” when I look down, and best of all— finding clothes in the one store that mocked me every time I went there: Zara. I can finally go to Zara to not only find something I like but also have an abundance of the size I want! Ooof! What. A. Great. Feeling.

I talked about this at length with my feelings coach and the only human I am allowed to watch movies with, Nandita. She is a resident fat high school kid turned beautiful young professional who gets paid for writing using all her feelings. She told me that its not about loving your fat self or your thinnest self, but actually loving your inner-self. Because the physical body can go away! By sickness, accident, or just laziness (most common). But being able to embrace to that uncertainty is what makes life so much more worth living.

Cooking is all about embracing uncertainty. You never really know how a dish will turn out. You can measure, weight, test, check, all your ingredients and methods but at the end of the day it is still a handmade process that will change as do the surrounding around you. It gets even more uncertain when you’re cooking with new ingredients such as the ones I chose for this dish. I first realised that I wanted to cook with ground cherries a few weeks ago when I went veggie shopping with mom. I love this fruit because of its sweet and sour taste profile and more so because as a kid I wasn’t really allowed to have them (I have sensitive tonsils that couldn’t handle sour things). Being seasonal, I knew that cooking with these would be exciting and an adventure into the deep unknown when I saw no recipes that actually cooked these down (most just used them on salads as an accruement). Having perfected my version of the pie dough, the size of the galette, the only unknown was how the fruit would react to being cooked, how it would taste warm, and if it would even complement a grape. In all, it turned out great. The berries lost their sweet a lot sooner than the tart which compliment the sucrose of the grape perfectly. They cooked down and lost some of that turgidity but never to the point of a willing tomato— a texture that I am still growing to love (still some way to go there however).

Glimpses from the week

Ingredients

Pie Crust

1 1/4 cups of all purpose flour [can be replaced with almond flour]

250 grams of unsalted butter, cold and cubed {almond or hazelnut butter tastes good too}

2 to 4 tablespoons of ice cold water

1/4 teaspoon of salt

2 teaspoons of sugar 

For the Filling

3 cups of fruit (ground cherry and grapes)

3/4 cup of sugar (or to taste)

2 tablespoons of cornflour

Zest and juice of 1 lemon

Eggwash and crust topping:

1 large egg

1 tablespoon of heavy cream or whole milk

Turbinado sugar

Method

Pie Crust

1. In a food processor blend together the flour and butter until the mixture forms bean-size pieces. Slowly add ice water, 1 tablespoon at a time, and pulse until the dough just comes together. It should be moist, but not wet.

2. Put dough on the lightly floured counter and pat it together to make one uniform piece. Flatten into a disk, wrap in plastic and chill for 2 hours.

3. Heat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius (356 degrees Fahrenheit). Roll the dough out to a 12-inch (30 cm) round. Using a round cap or pastry cutter (about 3 inched in diameter) make cuts. Don’t worry if it's uneven. It goes with the rustic vibe! Transfer to a rimmed baking sheet lined with parchment paper and chill while preparing the filling.

Filling

1. Toss together fruit, the lemon zest, and the cornstarch. Pile fruit on the dough circle, leaving a 1 1/2-inch border. Gently fold the pastry over the fruit, pleating to hold it in. Again, imperfect is totally fine. Brush the crust generously with one beaten egg and heavy cream.  Sprinkle raw sugar on the crust.

2. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, until the filling bubbles up vigorously and the crust is golden. Cool for at least 20 minutes (prime instagram picture time). Serve warm or at room temperature