Nuchi Nebu Nonka
Weaving stories from memories and my Calcutta kitchen.
Author: Rusha
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I didn’t grow up eating copious amounts of kumro shedhho. In fact, in our house, it was almost a non-entity: a dish that existed only in theory, spoken of with mild disdain. “Kumro shedhho? Eto nishpran jinish keu khay?” my mother would say, half-laughing, half-genuinely confused why anyone would voluntarily eat something so bland. My…
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A Quiet Bowl of Bengal, and the Home I Carry Within Me There are certain dishes you don’t learn from recipes. You absorb them. Like stories. Like weather. Like the quiet rituals of a household that existed long before you learned to cook for yourself. Muri ghonto is one of those dishes for me. Not…
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Winters in my childhood home or ‘Howrah Bari’ as I still call it, never announced themselves; they crept in. Quietly. Through the sunlight peeping in through the jafri’s on the entrance door wall, through the Venetian windows, through the thin cotton curtains Dida refused to replace, through the ‘Chad er dorja’, through the red cement…
Nuchi Nebu Nonka 