Some of our earliest food memories aren't about our favourite dishes. They're about the people who made them for us, the little moments we didn't think much of at the time, and the love that was quietly served to us in a bowl.
Growing up in Mumbai, chickpeas were never really my favourite thing to eat. In fact, I remember not liking them very much at all! But my mum had a different opinion. She always believed chickpeas were nutritious, delicious, and good for me, and she made sure I ate them even when I wasn't particularly excited about having them.
She had her own little way of making them more enjoyable, adding spices and flavours to make the salad a little more interesting. I might not have appreciated it back then, but she was simply finding ways to make something healthy taste good for her child.
I especially remember having chickpea salad before my swimming lessons. It was one of those familiar things my mum would give me before I headed out, making sure I had something nourishing to eat before jumping into the pool. At the time, I was probably more interested in getting to my lesson than thinking about the goodness in my food!
And then there was my grandma.
On days filled with school, tuition classes, and karate lessons, life could get pretty busy. My grandma would pack food for me, making sure I had something to eat through those long days. Chickpea salad was part of those memories, too. Looking back, I realise that feeding me wasn't just about filling my stomach. It was one of the many ways my mum and grandma cared for me.
As a child, I didn't think much about the effort behind those little things. I didn't think about the time spent preparing food, choosing ingredients, or making sure I had enough energy for everything I had planned that day. I just knew that someone had made sure I was fed.
It's funny how our relationship with food can change as we grow older. Something we once pushed away or ate reluctantly can become a reminder of home, childhood, and the people who loved us long before we understood all the ways they showed it.
Today, when I think about chickpea salad, I think about more than chickpeas, spices, and fresh ingredients. I think about my mum encouraging me to eat well, my grandma packing food for my long days, and the little routines that made up my childhood back home in Mumbai.
Perhaps that's one of the beautiful things about food. A simple dish can hold memories we didn't even realise we were making.
And maybe my mum was right all along. Chickpeas really are nutritious and delicious. But for me, they'll always mean something a little more.
They'll always taste a little like home.
Leave a Reply