Some evenings, everything comes tumbling together in a way that is so perfect you couldn’t replicate it if you planned for months. Cool, crisp weather,..

A friend recently asked me why ‘The Coorg Table®’? Why had I chosen the name for my blog, she asked, when there was so much..

If Coorg were a season, she would be the monsoon. The land sparkles and welcomes –for most of the year –but when the rains come..

My grandparents lived on a coffee estate that was situated in the middle of nowhere. Long stretches of very straight, un-tarred roads connected them to..

March welcomed me back home from my travels with a cool, breezy –and I imagined –slightly distant and reproachful air for having gone away for..

There’s a little store that I visit to pick up all sorts of delicious Coorg treats –homemade wines, maybe a bottle of pickle or some..

Some food knowledge travels serenely, passing from generation to generation without any fuss. Everyone has the ingredients and instructions written down safely somewhere, or an..

Last year ended and the new one began with indulgences –and there were far too many of them –Austrian smoked ham; prawns big enough to..

Year after year, the beauty of puthari just takes my breath away. The nights are cold and clear and from the hilltops, the stars shine..

We love our feasts in Coorg. At weddings, festivals and family gatherings, not to mention innumerable other occasions when generous feasts are cooked up at..

Ranee Vijaya Kuttaiah’s table, where I have dined many times, overflows with delicious food, fascinating anecdotes and memorable conversations, fuelled by an extraordinary life lived..

Travelling on a bus on the Algarve coast between Albufeira and Faro in Portugal, I once heard a romantic legend as we drove past groves..