My refrigerator is overflowing with various cheeses. I first became aware of this fact when a friend, rummaging through it for leftovers, quipped, “Wow, you guys really love cheese!” At first, I thought she was referring to a possible odor, but a quick look revealed the truth: our fridge was indeed packed with an impressive selection of cheeses. This bounty was largely thanks to my husband, a devoted cheese aficionado. Cheddar, mozzarella, provolone, asiago, and parmigiano-reggiano are just a few of his favorites.
In case you haven’t guessed yet, my husband hails from Italy, while I am of East Indian heritage. He possesses brown hair and olive skin, while my complexion is more akin to cappuccino. As we embarked on our shared life together nearly a decade ago, I had no inkling that our diverse cultural backgrounds would begin to intertwine in fascinating ways.
From Fridge to Garden: A Culinary Adventure
Our culinary differences first manifested in our fridge, but it didn’t stop there. When it came time to plan our garden during that initial summer, my husband, an enthusiastic gardener, had already set his sights on what to grow. The list included zucchini, lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, parsley, and basil. What he neglected to mention was his plan to plant not just one, but at least seven varieties of tomato plants. By August, our garden was a veritable sea of tomatoes, prompting my friend to exclaim, “Wow, you guys really have a lot of tomatoes!” To which I could only reply, “What can I say? I married an Italian!”
This playful response became a staple in our marriage whenever someone commented on our home life. The reason behind our stockpile of homemade wine, homemade tomato sauce, prosciutto, and pasta? Obviously, because I married an Italian! And you know what? I’ve grown to love these Italian traditions. My fondness for red wine has only deepened since tying the knot, and having a steady supply of homemade wine has proven to be far more economical than store-bought options.
Rediscovering My Indian Roots
As for our overflowing tomato garden, it has inspired me to explore the art of cooking with these tomatoes—not just for pasta sauce but for creating Indian curry dishes as well. The delightful irony is that my husband’s pride in his cultural cuisine encouraged me to reconnect with my own Indian heritage, which I had previously distanced myself from in an attempt to fit in with my Canadian peers.
During my childhood, being Indian felt anything but exotic. It simply meant that my clothes and backpack carried the scent of strong spices, an olfactory reminder that made me self-conscious as I walked the school hallways. I would go to great lengths to keep my coat and backpack away from the kitchen where my mother prepared those fragrant dishes. Although I adored Indian food, I didn’t want to smell like it.
Those days are long gone. Now, I seek out the very spices I once avoided, having carved out a special cabinet in our somewhat outdated kitchen just for my Indian spices. The air is now often infused with the aromas of cloves, cardamom, cumin, coriander, turmeric, and fenugreek—a particularly strong scent due to a broken hinge on the cabinet door that leaves it ajar.
Cooking Together: A Fusion of Flavors
This expanding spice collection has led to a significant increase in my Indian cooking. Rice has taken a prominent place in our meals, and one day, while we enjoyed a hearty dish of rice and curry, my husband remarked, “We sure eat a lot more curry now.” His tone suggested he was more than happy about it.
And why wouldn’t he be? Our friends and family have embraced the delightful smells wafting from our kitchen. The vibrant chicken curry simmering away, the fresh chapathis sizzling in the pan, and the cooling raita have all become welcome additions to our home—especially for my Italian in-laws, who often request chicken curry when they come over (although they usually prefer my mother’s version over mine, and I’ve come to terms with that!).
A Celebration of Cultures
While some might argue that marrying outside of one’s culture leads to a loss of identity, my experience has been quite the opposite. Marrying an Italian has opened my eyes to my Indian roots in a new light and helped me celebrate them, particularly through the delicious cuisine I now embrace. I’ve even decided that next summer, we should plant chilies, coriander, and dill so that both our Italian and Indian heritages are represented in our garden.
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Conclusion
In summary, my marriage to an Italian has encouraged me to embrace my Indian heritage, especially through the culinary lens. Our home is now a delightful blend of our cultures, and I look forward to continuing this journey of celebrating our roots together.