Every few weeks, my thirteen year old son and I will look each other and nod, a wordless understanding: we want Indian food, which usually means a trip to Gourmet India at the food court at the mall (don’t laugh – it’s nearest and cheapest).  We’re likely to order vegetarian combos, saag paneer (spinach), chana masala (chickpeas), kormas, curries, sometimes opting for something new and untried. Basmati rice on the side.  And naan, the moist, flat bread. Always the naan.  If hungry, appetizers, the samosas, or the onion balls with chutney.  And I still love the sweet lassi yogurt drink (rosewater flavoring) that I first discovered twenty years ago in New York. But this tradition with my son started when he was four, or perhaps five. That’s quite a lot of Indian food over the years.

 My husband is happy to eat Indian takeout or leftovers.  My older son has gone occasionally for Indian food with his more adventurous friends.  But they have no craving, as my other son and I do.  And this, from my childhood of plain food, plainly cooked, with but three spices in the house: salt, pepper and cinnamon.  My Indian food loving son must wait on me to get his craving fulfilled. Like other kids his age, he has trips to the mall with friends. But never will he order Indian food with them: they don’t like the look of the food – or the smell.

It’s not just the flavor, I’ve discovered, it’s the emotions, as well as the exposure to new or unfamiliar food.  For my son who attended the Nature Preschool, his teacher was from India, and one of their activities was cooking, including chapatis, and vegetarian dishes.  For myself, the association is through my former roommate, aspiring actor, entrepreneur, and all around nice man, Tirlok Malik, with whom I shared an apartment in the 1980’s on the upper west side of Manhattan. Simply put, he cooked for me, not to mention introducing me to Bollywood, Bombay Broadcasting Corporation, and tea the Indian way (heat the milk first).  At the time we met, he was driving taxis to make ends meet, and trying to further his dreams in film.  Friends convinced him that opening an Indian restaurant/café in the neighborhood was a quicker way to making his dreams come true, and invested in his ability to run such a place. Indian Café was born, where I enjoyed some wonderful meals, as did others, leading eventually to Indian Café 2 and even 3, I believe (after I left New York).  And yes, with his food success, Malik followed his heart and put money into his independent film endeavors.

 We are fortunate in our family to have a heritage of Armenian food cooked by Armenian hands, not to mention former owners of an ethnic food store.  For my children, favorite foods are pilaf, losh kebab, choereg, pita and hummos and other Armenian staples. For them, food is history and culture, as well as love and taste.  As a young adult, I had a talent for making friends with people, men and women, who liked to cook and share their food with me – (and I in turn was a ready dishwasher).  Part of expanding my palette was a diversity of friends. It’s not so coincidental that the man I married is perhaps the best of them – not that there was any competition.

 By simple twists of fate, my son and I had early, positive exposure to Indian food; today, that is part of who we are.  Funny thing, where food will lead you…..Is it lunch time? What’s nicer on a cold winter day, than a hot plate of curry and rice?