A seafood bibimbap at Miss Korea BBQ on 32nd St. A hand-pounded guacamole at Rosa Mexicano at Union Square. The simplest and best pork taco I’ve ever had from a Mexican cart near the steps of the National Museum of the American Indian. A Brazilian family selling home-made relish, and two gruff Italian brothers selling arancinis and gnocchis at a bi-weekly street market in Jersey City. A chicken-rice plate from a halal cart on Broadway, run by an Egyptian, who was thrilled to bits because I bid him farewell with, “Shukran Habibi.”
The biggest shift in New York City’s dining scene recently? The revelation that The New York Times’ food critics would now publicly identify themselves before publishing reviews that could significantly impact restaurants—and a move away from open bar tabs, with New Yorkers now preferring to pay per drink.
Food became the defining thread of my experiences in New York during a warm, yet occasionally chilly, June. It was inescapable in a city boasting possibly the most diverse communities and cuisines globally. The sheer variety and quality of the food was astonishing, even to someone familiar with the culinary landscape of Bengaluru East and Kamanahattan—the affectionate name for Kamanahalli, a diverse suburb nearby. Yet, a visit to Manhattan and its boroughs underscored that it was a somewhat inferior imitation.
My cousin, a welcoming host, had stocked her kitchen and refrigerator with an array of meats, cheeses, spices, and eggs with strikingly blue shells and vibrant yellow yolks. Each morning in her Jersey City apartment, she squeezed the freshest orange juice before I embarked on my daily run and walk along the seemingly endless Hudson River promenade—once a lush marshland, then a bustling dockyard, and now a corridor of office and apartment towers. Across the water, the iconic skyline loomed, including the World Trade Center and the Empire State Building.
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It was the season of grandparents. The promenade was filled with Indian and Chinese professionals and their parents, providing childcare for their grandchildren before the onset of winter. While Indian food was readily available, I make a point of avoiding familiar flavors when traveling—what’s the point of exploring new shores if you stick to what you know?
Eating out in New York isn’t inexpensive, especially for tourists mindful of exchange rates, or even many New Yorkers themselves. The promise of more affordable food for working-class residents is a central tenet of 33-year-old mayoral candidate Zohran Mamdani’s campaign. Yet, despite the abundance of restaurants, nothing quite matches the comfort of a home-cooked meal.
This was brought home when my cousin volunteered my cooking skills for a quiet evening with her friend, Selva, a vibrant Turkish woman renowned in our family for her exceptional Turkish cuisine.
Selva arrived one balmy Jersey City evening with a beef stew, dolmas (vine leaves stuffed with minced meat, foraged from a nearby park), and a tzatziki dip. I contributed prawn masala, a Goan prawn curry, and, at Selva’s request, prepared dosas using batter from a local Indian store and fresh chutney.
It was a delightful evening, accompanied by a fine Merlot.
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Shortly after, I traveled to Minneapolis to visit university friends. We drove to the forests along Lake Superior—the world’s largest freshwater lake, known for its legendary storms—hiked in the rain, picnicked, and discussed aging, the impact of figures like Donald Trump, and menopause. I made a shakshuka one morning, but that was my last cooking endeavor of the trip.
We reconvened at Selva’s apartment a few weeks later, where she insisted I not contribute to the meal. That evening, overlooking a quiet bay dotted with boats and watched over by an elegant black-and-white cat, we enjoyed couscous with herbs and tomato, a meatloaf, sautéed beans in olive oil, a cold zucchini salad, and an eggplant dish called imam bayildi—literally, “the imam fainted”—served at room temperature.
We learned about the rules of Turkish dining: no meat is served alongside vegetables, and nothing is reheated. By the end of the evening, I had to admit that nothing I’d tasted on New York’s bustling streets compared to Selva’s culinary skills. She generously shared her recipes, and here’s my take on her zucchini salad.
SELVA’S ZUCCHINI SALAD
Serves 4
Ingredients
2 zucchinis, shredded with skin
4 tbsp olive oil
4-6 large cloves garlic
5 tbsp Greek yogurt
Half-a-cup fresh dill, chopped
3 dried red chillies, chopped
Half-cup walnuts, roughly crushed and sauteed
Method
Sauté garlic in 2 tbsp of olive oil over medium heat. Add the zucchini and sauté, then remove from the stove before any water appears. Let it cool and arrange in a serving dish. Add salt and mix just before serving.
Whip yogurt with the remaining olive oil until creamy. Add dill, half the walnuts, and red chillies. Pour over the zucchini and garnish with the remaining walnuts.
