Krish Ashok is not a chef but cooks daily. He is not a scientist, but he can explain science with easy-to-understand clarity. He trained to be an electronic engineer but is now a software engineer. He learnt to cook from the women in his family, who can make the perfectly fluffy idli without lecturing people on lactobacilli and pH levels. He likes the scientific method not because it offers him the ability to bully people with knowledge, but because it confidently lets him say, ‘I don’t know, let me test it for myself.’
When he is not cooking, he’s usually playing subversive music on the violin or cello. He lives in Chennai with a wife, who sagely prevents him from buying more gadgets for the kitchen, and a son, who has the flora and fauna in the neighbourhood terrorized. You can follow him at @krishashok on Twitter at your own risk.
Have you ever asked why your grandma tossed a tea bag into the pressure cooker while bubbling chickpeas, or why she estimated utilizing the knuckle of her forefinger? For what reason does an irrational touch of salt make your kheer all the more strongly flavorful? What is the response and what does it have to do with fenugreek? What does your secondary school science information, or what you recall of it, have to do with consummately sautéing your onions?
My book "Masala Lab" is a Food science geek's investigation of Indian cooking with a definitive point of making every user a superior cook and transforming the kitchen into an upbeat, innovative jungle gym for culinary experimentation. Much the same as remembering a condition would have caused you to finish a test however not become a scientist, following a formula without realizing its reasoning can be an imperfect method of figuring out how to cook.
Thoroughly tried and explored, and with an inquisitive and drawing in way to deal with food, I have assembled the one book the Indian kitchen unquestionably needs, demonstrating en route that your grandma was correct from the start.