Sequeira Aarti - Aarti paarti : an american kitchen with an indian soul

Copyright 2014 Aarti Sequeira

Photographs Copyright Matt Armendariz

Cover copyright 2014 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

Cover photo by Matt Armendariz

Cover design by Laura Palese

Book design and illustration by Laura Palese

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First ebook edition: September 2014

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ISBN 978-1-4555-4540-7

E3

I first met Aarti when we spoke together at a food festival in Los Angeles in 2010. I knew shed been the recent winner of The Next Food Network Star, but since the show had conflicted with a season of Real Housewives of (Who Knows Where), I hadnt been able to watch it.

As a result, I didnt know much about Aartiand consequently, hadnt yet been bitten by the bug. That would all change the day we met, as I became instantly enchantednot just with her deep brown eyes, hilarious sense of humor and smiling accent, but also her infectious love of food and life. It all came together in this wonderful, complete package known as Aarti Sequeira, and she made a forever fan that day. And, lucky for me, I made a forever friend.

Aarti regards food, she will tell you, not simply as nourishment. It is her lifebloodthe source of her lifelong memories, the thing that excites her, the force that propels her forward. Those of us who also love both cooking and eating can certainly relate, but theres something about Aartis appreciation for foods textures, colors and flavors that flat out inspires me. Hearing her talk about turmeric alone makes me want to lock myself in the kitchen and cook for days.

Thats exactly the kind of inspiration youll find in Aarti Paarti, Aartis first cookbookthough to call it simply a cookbook is to paint only a partial picture. In these pages, youll see familiar Indian foods that youve had in restaurants but have never tried at home: saag paneer, raita and tandoori chicken, to name a few. There are also classic staples that Aarti has perfected so we dont have tothings like basmati rice, classic chicken curry, naan and chicken tikka masala. But youll also find dishes that will absolutely awaken your senses and imagination: Duck Breasts with Black Pepper and Cherry Sauce, Miso-Mango Black Cod, Chard and Cashew Upma and a fantastically verdant Fish Chowder that hasnt left my dreams since I first spied the photo. This cookbook should come with a warning label: It will make you want to cook (and eat) every single thing inside!

(And dont even get me started on the desserts. Good gracious.)

Aarti Sequeira is so many thingsa daughter, a wife, a mother, a cook, a sister, a friend. But (and I saved the most important thing for last) shes also a woman of faith. She carries it with her wherever she goes. Her joy and purpose shine through, whether shes playing her ukulele, giving her daughter a bath or whipping up a mean chickpea curry. Her light and love are undeniable, and you will see them in every recipe in this beautiful cookbook.

I know youll love it as much as I do!

REE DRUMMOND

My mums favorite memory of me goes something like this:

Me, her first-born, about a year old, sitting on the kitchen counter, chubby legs akimbo, thick dark locks pulled into two neat pigtails, large almond eyes watching intently as she slices red onions for a lunchtime meal. She looks away, checking on the rice bubbling away on the stove, and when she looks back, Im moving in slow motion so as not to raise suspicion, grabbing a dimpled fistful of onions that Im aiming squarely at my mouth. She says my name in warning: Aaru! You wont like that! Caught in the act, I freeze! But, unable to resist the temptation, I keep my eyes squarely on her as I chomp down on the onions anyway, using what few teeth I have as best as I can. The pungent juice fills my mouth and my eyes widen. Mum braces herself for the imminent wailing and reaches to grab the onions out of my mouth. Instead, I smile at her, juice dribbling down my chin, and reach for more.

These are the things I think of when I eat and cook. I cannot simply eat to live. I dont know how to do it. Every bite harkens back to a memory, soothes a wound, knits a celebration into the fabric of my story. Food has been the one sure thing when I was in a strange place, when all my hopes and dreams fell apart, when I didnt know why God had bothered to breathe me into existence. And now, in a truth-is-stranger-than-fiction kind of way, it has become the thrumming heartbeat of my identity, something that has given me purpose and blessed me to wake up every morning thankful for that first breath of the day.

I dont remember that first fistful of onions, and irony of ironies, I actually hate the taste of raw onions now! My first memory was being locked in the bathroom at the age of two, screaming at the top of my lungs as my mum tried to calm me down from the other side of the door but that doesnt really get us anywhere now, does it?