Changing the world one (vegan) biscuit and baguette at a time
In 2019, I was diagnosed with Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS). PCOS is a condition affecting how the ovaries work. One of the most common conditions affecting 1 in every 10 women in the UK, it creates an imbalance in hormones, which in turn leads to irregular periods, sudden weight gain or weight loss, acne and mood swings (NHS, 2019).
As per the advice of my gynaecologist and my nutritionist, I turned vegan in 2020. At first, I always felt out of place and isolated when I visited my friends’ or went to restaurants with my family, due to the limited availability of options, owing mostly to the lack of commercial awareness (on what a vegan diet includes and does not and how to incorporate alternative without compromising on taste, balance, nutrition, and aesthetic appeal). This lack of inclusiveness made me feel I was wrong for asking for an alternative, that I was being ‘too much’ or that I should be more ‘flexible’ like my other friends.
I started avoiding conversations on why I became vegan, what it means and includes, and why it is great for people and planet both. I felt embarrassed. Over the years, being vegan forced me to start playing with my palate and my spatula, experimenting one flavour at a time to become ‘Meatless and Fearless’. For instance, I learnt to play with options offered by Indian (cultural) and Emirati (local) cuisine, experimenting and creating intricately balanced fusions: Cashew and spring onion paste replaced traditional cow's-milk cheese and home-made almond milk sweetened with dates became an all-time favourite beverage before going to bed.
As I became more aware of the multitude of options offered by my cultural cuisine, I developed a new appreciation of how nothing in an Indian kitchen ever goes to the trash (Fun fact: until English swept over India after colonisation, no local language had a word for ‘waste’). Every piece of a coriander stem, the skin of an orange or a watermelon or an apricot seed (which when broken yields a baby almond) lives its life to the fullest, as a skilfully up-cycled 'chutney' (sauce), or perfectly blended into 'aachar' (pickles). If a fresh surplus of cooked food remained, it was creatively up-cycled into stuffing for parathas (flatbread), pakoras (spiced fritters) or veggie cutlets- what is this if not a purpose-driven circular economy in action?
I remember how truly present in the moment I felt on days I prepared a meal to eat with my parents. It was slow, it was serene, and it was calm. I didn’t do much. I stayed in. No drives, no movies, no eating out, just stayed home with family. It was 8 pm on New Year’s Eve, and I was in the kitchen, helping my mum peel and cut bitter gourd and soak some rice and lentil to be cooked the next day. The kitchen was bright, both tube lights were turned on. The coolness of the AC filled the room. It gently brushed the hair against my forehead as slow, lo-fi Hindi songs played in the background.
In that moment, I felt truly alive. As we sat for dinner an hour later, I looked into my vegan soup, I savoured it: the freshness of the coriander, the creaminess of the lentil, the softness of the cumin- all of it. Cool air, soulful music, glances, smiles, and laughers were exchanged between and my mom. It was in these moments of utter simplicity that I feel closer to my family than ever. I lived it- truly and fully.
My family and I were in a shared space; we were not exchanging words, but never have I felt more loved, valued and accepted than I did in that moment. I was grateful for my journey; this was my Goldilocks moment. I didn’t have much to say, I was fully taken by the gravity of the moment, gratitude engulfed me from all sides like a blanket. It was all merry and magic. And then my mom’s favourite song played. I didn’t need anything; I wasn’t thinking about anything else. I was simply grateful for how wonderful the year had been.
A year later, I started growing some of my food locally (pre-covid!)- for instance, I became involved with Incredible Edible in the small town of Leamington Spa in the UK, a not-for-profit organisation catalysing kinder, more connected, and resilient communities by turning unused plots of land into abundant sources of healthy food.
As I started taking ownership of my journey with food and using it as a tool to celebrate my identity, instead of pitying myself for being at the expense of the food system, I slowly unleashed the lioness within me. Things were changing not just inside of me, but also around me: friends and family started looking into vegan restaurants, cafés and bakeries when dining out, celebrating my birthday, graduation, and parents' anniversaries. I was awestruck by the shift in conversations amongst my friends and family, clearly reflecting their increased level of awareness and acceptance of a vegan diet. I distinctly recall one specific instance from my 20th birthday: seeing the table stacked with vegan cakes of all shapes, size and colours, my bewildered cousin brother asked me why I chose to turn vegan. My dad is not the most verbally expressive person, so I was all mushy when I heard him tell my cousin, “It’s a great thing actually. I personally can’t even think of doing it, but she is!”
Don’t underestimate the power of inclusivity. Don’t underestimate the smile you bring on someone’s face when she sees a vegan chocolate cake next to a traditional brownie or a black forest. Don’t underestimate the little squeal of excitement when someone is able to enjoy coconut raita (an Indian side dish made of yogurt, finely chopped cucumber, and seasonings) with their biryani instead of having it dry and fry (not only is it exceptionally plain, but its also simply not the right way to do biryani- I can vouch for this and you can cross-verify with any brown person you know!). P.S. On a side note, I must also warn you- don’t underestimate the length of that eye-roll when all I see on a menu is a ‘falafel’ or a ‘beyond-the-meat burger’- I love it but I am not living for it; its almost 2023, and we need to move on.
The chances I am that customer unable to contain her excitement are high, but if there’s anything I’ve learnt after years of feeling ‘maybe, its just me’, is that it is never just you- there’s a million you’s out there feeling the same things you do. Food citizenship helps recognise this community of people with similar lived experiences and gives them the power and tools to step up to change the food system, one flavour at a time.
A lot of the written piece has been adapted from my creative mixed media journal https://www.canva.com/design/DAE1vp94QRs/eDAWiagCU7R6PzEXt3geXA/watch?utm_content=DAE1vp94QRs&utm_campaign=designshare&utm_medium=link2&utm_source=sharebutton
‘Watch carefully, the magic that occurs when you give a person just enough comfort to be themselves.' (Atticus Poetry).
