Coming from an Indian heritage, the one thing I treasure deeply—aside from aging like fine wine—is the food. The aromas, the rich spices, the layers of texture and tradition. For those just scratching the surface, it’s butter chicken and CTM. But dive deeper, and Indian cuisine becomes a euphoric journey, each dish telling its own tale of culture and history.

I suppose I’m biased. I grew up with the best food in the world. I’ve had dishes so spicy I swore my tongue would fall off—yet I kept going back for more. That’s the beauty of it: even when it hurts, it heals.

And yet… one of my most cherished meals is something so simple, so unexpected: steak and potatoes. I never ate beef until I came to America, but something about that classic combination—the richness of a perfectly cooked steak paired with rosemary-kissed potatoes—feels like home. It’s my comfort food.

Isn’t it wild how you can be surrounded by the most elaborate of delicacies, and still crave the familiar? The quintessential American meal. The epitome of basic. Yet, for me, it’s sacred.

As I grow older and walk through this season of rediscovery, I’m realizing that the simplest parts of me are often the hardest to explain. I am both spice and subtlety. Chaos and calm.

Life doesn’t always need to be bursting with flavor or complexity. Sometimes, there’s grace in the ordinary. There’s beauty in the quiet. There is peace in simplicity. And sometimes… all you really need is a plate of steak and potatoes to feel whole again.