On my brother's death anniversary

I grew up with my four siblings, my elder sister was married off by then. The one above me was the youngest among the three brothers. I called him Sanudai. He loved piquant chutney made from garden fresh tomatoes and herbs. So, golveda ko achar was his specialty when I was growing up.

Sanudai would often start making this achar with only a few ingredients, taste his creation by dipping one of his fingers in the sauce and savouring it on the tip of his tongue. Then, he would run to the garden and come with a few other items. By the time he finished his achar, he would make a few trips to the garden, add these new items in his achar and invent a totally new dish than when he started!

Someday sanudai roasted the cherry tomatoes in a mackkle (a coal-burning pot), half of which would be wasted—they would burst open in the fire and lose the precious juice. 

Other days, he would roast a few cloves of garlic and our kitchen would fill with garlicky smoke. Once he roasted the green chillies to go with his tomatoes. Unfortunately, everybody started coughing and my poor brother was scolded badly.😔 

But the point is whatever he did, at the end his golveda ko achar always turned out heavenly that we all loved!

Sanudai is gone, but his golveda ko achar is still in my tongue! This is one of the stories in my recipe book that I wanted to share publicly to honour him. As I edit this book, I'm thinking of him and missing terribly! Rest in peace my dear sanudai. I'm sure to meet you somedays! 💖