In today's blog, I want to explore my relationship with food, and I already know this is going to be a long one. It feels like there’s so much to unpack here, and it’ll probably be more of a series than a single post because my connection with food has been, well, incredible. There’s no other way to put it. It’s a very intimate, close relationship, and I think a lot of who I am today has been shaped by my experiences with food.
To kick things off, I remember reading a quote somewhere: “If you want to understand yourself, observe what irritates you.” It hit me deeply because the things that get under your skin often reveal something fundamental about you. That irritation is an opportunity to learn about yourself, and that resonates with me when I think about food.
I can trace this back to a conversation I had in India. I was in the middle of an argument with a colleague over something simple: why couldn’t we have good, tasty food at the office? To me, it felt like everyone deserved quality food, even if it meant paying a bit more. But my colleague didn’t see it that way. For them, food was just sustenance—breakfast, lunch, dinner—nothing special. For me, though, food is a way to the soul. It’s a means of communication, a way of showing love, and even a source of contentment.
That’s when I started noticing how deep my relationship with food goes. And I guess, to make it more personal, I’ll share a few stories that come to mind.
One of the craziest things I’ve done for food happened about ten years ago when I was traveling to Goa with some college friends. We had vada pav, and for some reason, that craving led me to make an impromptu decision to travel all the way to Mumbai—just for the vada pav. I know it sounds absurd, but 18 or 20-year-old me didn’t think twice about hopping on a bus to travel 500 or 600 miles for that Mumbai street food. And it wasn’t just the vada pav—I binged on street food, frankies, and other local delicacies once I got there. It was wild, but food drove me to do it.
Then there’s the time I learned to make momos. This was in 2019, when I was traveling through Sikkim and staying at a homestay. The family taught me how to make momos from scratch, and it felt like such an authentic experience. When I got back to Chennai, I hosted a momo party with my friends from Teach for India (TFI). We all got together, made momos, and just had a blast. The momo party even made its way back to my home during the pandemic, where my parents and I spent time making them. It’s moments like these where food becomes not just about eating, but about connecting with people.
What’s interesting is how my relationship with food also intertwines with my stress levels. During my time at TFI or even with EdZola, whenever I had a rough day, food became my coping mechanism. Whether it was some cheesy comfort food, a cup of filter coffee, or something from the local kalan shop, it instantly lifted my spirits. Food has always been that one constant that helps me reset.
Another thing that stands out is how I express love through food. I’ve never been very good with words—people have told me that often—but I’ve always shown my affection by feeding others. Whether it’s friends, family, or even colleagues, I express my care by making sure they have something good to eat.
That’s why, even at EdZola, we made sure to provide breakfast and lunch from the very beginning. Food is an integral part of our culture, and even when we hosted our first Social Impact Circle in Coimbatore, we made it special by ordering cheese samosas from a well-known place. People still talk about those samosas months later. It’s those small but meaningful touches that make all the difference.
This love for food continues in how I treat clients or partners when they visit. We have something called the “EdZola Virundhu”—a feast where we treat our guests to amazing food. Sometimes we even do food walks, exploring different local delicacies, and it’s such a unique way to connect with people over an evening of good food and conversation.
But I guess what I’m really getting to is the contrast I’ve felt after moving to London. This city is different, and in many ways, the food culture here has been a bit of a shock to my system. I’ve noticed that Londoners seem to have an obsession with cold food—whether it’s at parties or gatherings, cold sandwiches are everywhere. It’s the complete opposite of what I’m used to, where hot, fresh food is the norm.
And I’ve realized that I’m a lot pickier than I thought. I’m a vegetarian, and even within that, I have a lot of preferences and restrictions on what I can eat. So it’s been tricky to find food that truly satisfies me here. I still remember one low moment when I looked at a cold Tesco sandwich and asked myself if I really wanted to eat that. It felt so far removed from the food that brings me joy and comfort.
Eventually, I caved and splurged at an Indian restaurant—two garlic naans and a Paneer Tikka Masala. It was probably more expensive than it needed to be, but the satisfaction of eating something familiar and fulfilling was worth every penny. That moment made me realize that food, for me, isn’t just about filling my stomach. It’s about fulfillment, comfort, and joy.
After a few weeks of this struggle, I finally decided to start cooking at home. It was a game changer. I bought utensils and groceries and started making sandwiches, parathas, dosa, and sambar. It felt like I had regained a part of myself, and it completely changed my week. Suddenly, I was more productive and happier, all because I was able to reconnect with the food that I love.
This whole experience has made me more grateful than ever. It’s funny how much we take for granted when it’s easily available. Back in Coimbatore, I would tell my mom that I wanted to eat something tasty, and she’d make it for me, no questions asked. I never truly appreciated the value of those simple moments. But now, being far from home, I realize how much of a privilege it was to have someone take care of that for me. And it’s not just my parents—I’ve gained a new sense of gratitude for EdZola as well. Having food provided for everyone there is something I never really thought much about until I started skipping meals here in London. It’s been a humbling reminder that something as basic as food can have such a profound impact on your daily life.
In the end, food has always been more than just fuel for me. It’s an experience, a way of showing love, and a reminder to be grateful for the things that make life a little better. So, as I wrap up this blog, I’m reminded once again of the simple yet profound role food plays in my life.
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