Peach Pie

A very long time ago, when my extended family still lived in Malleshwaram, one weekend on a visit we ended up being fed pie at The Only Place. It was peach pie. I fell in love. No, really. But somehow, I don't think I've ever eaten much peach pie since, even when I lived in phorens and whatnot. I did however acquire an addictive love of stone fruit, peaches, nectarines, apricots, cherries and my bestest favourites, donut peaches, which I ate by the bushel in Spain. So I was thrilled when I moved to Delhi and realised how much this fruit was around in May and June, and planned faithfully to gorge each year. But it never happened. This year I finally went and bought kilos of peaches and ate em with great delight, and then, when I had my first ever monthly dinner party last night and six peaches getting too ripe to handle, I figured it made the most sense to bake a peach pie.

Bhindi, goddess style!

Bhindi/okra has always been one of my great loves. But it's slimy and gross and I would only eat it carbonated, as my father likes to say. This is true. Growing up spoilt there was always one bowl of it that had been cooked BLACK that as just for me. And I was VERY possessive of my burnt bhindi. As time went by though, learnt about deep friend bhindi, bhindi made north Indian style with shitloads of onions (my mother, to give her credit did try and introduce this to us, but she added tomatoes but I refused to eat them in those days), stuffed bhindi and so on. But my most favouritest bhindi is the one I have adapted from the Goddess's katrika (eggplant) recipe, one that caused minor heart attacks when I was home last and demanded it at every meal (I am famous for refusing to touch Indian food that's been contaminated by katrika).