Praveen Vijh
Photography

The taste of a bracing Delhi morning, the winter cold vibrant on teacups resting on tiny tables on our narrow balcony. The noises of Patel Nagar, (a busy residential corner of the city) the sound cry of cauliflower sellers, the persistent scooter horn soundtrack. The Sunday morning grey laziness of my teenage Solihull home, a house filled fast with smoke from scorched ghee. The proud enthusiasm of my mother as parathas (stuffed breads) emerge, glistening with butter, hot & karak (brittle & crisp). 

The safety experienced as our first spoonfuls are taken. The stress endured, the celebrations cherished, the laughter shared.

Every mouthful taken in every meal rushing, sitting, planning, entertaining, is a record of a life, a snapshot of the moment we lived.

Eating I build up reserves of love, every waking moment spent thinking about food