Hi all. I am Apurva.

My cooking adventures started with my grandmother around the age of 12-13 years. Whenever my mother was away, both of us would huddle up in the kitchen. My grandmother would take pleasure in giving me instructions driven by her belief that a girl my age must know how to cook. My mother believed otherwise and wasn't in the favour of ushering me into the kitchen just yet. As you can see, it was an added bonus for my grandmother. I on the other hand would be a hungry, mischievous kid, only happy to follow instructions in the hopes of some warm food. She taught me how to knead flour and how to temper curries; and also to take in the stride the burnt or undercooked food and to never leave food on your plate.Then there were times when my dad cooked to prove to my mother that he is better than her. I would be his apprentice and my job included fetching, washing, peeling and the occasional stirring. And it was my daily job to make tea and lemonades for my grandfather and his visitors.

Cooking grew on me before I knew it. You can't put a finger on the timeline for this sort of thing. My mother saw this. My family saw this. My friends saw this. The appreciation I got humbled and encouraged me to go further and here I am today writing this blog.

Recipes at Ginger Juliennes are inspired by the flavours that were embedded in my palette growing up and the ones to which it is introduced from me eating out and trying something new at every chance. This blog is my journal. In it I am penning down what I know, what I learnt and what I hope to learn in cooking.

I find that cooking soothes me, calms me down, de-stresses me and makes me patient. It is my yoga retreat. I enjoy every bit of cooking as much as savouring the last bits of the resultant food. Each day I try to perfect my imperfections, to challenge myself and create food that warms the heart and fills the belly. I like simplicity, friendly flavours and inviting plates. I like to know the basics and I like to buff my techniques. I reach out to my hand towel every two minutes and I forget to wear my apron more times than I care to admit. I like yellow flowers and cinnamon in my tea. I read. I cook. I hum. I taste. I endure onion induced tears, tempered sneezing, grated nails and finger burns. I smile even when things go wrong, and not just in the kitchen.

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