Khabaar is a food memoir and personal narrative that braids the global journeys of South Asian food through immigration, migration, and indenture. Focusing on chefs, home cooks, and food stall owners, the book questions what it means to belong and what does belonging in a new place look like in the foods carried over from the old country? These questions are integral to the author’s own immigrant journey to America as a daughter of Indian refugees (from what’s now Bangladesh to India during the 1947 Partition of India); as a woman of color in science; as a woman who left an abusive marriage; and as a woman who keeps her parents’ memory alive through her Bengali food.
I was intrigued by the book summary - food, travel, immigration, culture, history, place, belonging - all things I relate to - wrapped up in a memoir. The book is a combination of all these elements interspersed thought the book. I particularly enjoyed the parts about the author’s family, her memories associated with all the wonderful Bengali food, and what they meant to her as she straddled many worlds. I also liked how the author distinguished Bengali culture and food as distinct and unique, a far cry from the homogeneous culture and food that people tend to view as Indian. India is a vast and diverse country with varied foods, culture, religions, and customs. What I didn’t care for were the transitions from thought to thought or timeframes to timeframes. They seemed to end abruptly and then we were on to a completely different topic or thought, which left me in mid stride and was rather disconcerting. So overall, this was an okay read. Many thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this book.
Khabaar (The word for 'food' in Bengali) is a unique fusion of cookbook, narrative, and memoir. Ghosh has used the bonding power of food to reflect on continents, share her personal story, and fuse cultures that are in contact thanks to the dispersion of the Indian diaspora. The stories which hit hardest in the book are the lives Ghosh peers into, from her reflection on hustle, struggles, and murder of Indian origin chef Garima Kothari to the humbling narratives of street vendors selling roti in Singapore or the bunny chow of South Africa. At the core of Ghosh's memoir is her own immigration story, coming to the USA at a college age, trying to marry, settling into a country she doesn't fully see as her own. The book is as much about fitting in and becoming a part of something new as it is about remaining true to one's tradition and oneself.
Ghosh's Khabaar has a lot to teach us. It's an inspiring project, and one that I hope will be read, by anyone who wants to learn from Bengali immigrant culture.
“To say tea was used as a colonizing weapon would be an understatement. Indians did not drink tea till the mid-nineteenth century, “ writes the author Dr. Madhushree Ghosh. When I began this memoir, I went into not knowing what to expect and to my pleasant surprise, Ghosh’s eloquent and beautiful prose make Indian food the focal point on how we understand our trauma and grief. Written in a style that can only be compared to food journalist writers like Anthony Bourdain, Ghosh’s memoir speaks to the fact that representation matters. Her memoir is not only a lens into her personal experiences into her family, marriage, and divorce as a successful researcher and social justice activist, but also how her cultural experiences growing up in India as major events occur both in India and outside (from the 1947 Partition, prime minister Indira Gandhi’s assassination, the 1984 anti-Sikh violence, Citizenship Amendment Rights Protests, and Covid-19 crisis). She also shares her connections with other South Asian female chefs including the celebrity of Maneet Chauhan, South Asian Punjabi chef who is popular on Chopped. Lately, there has been a celebration of South Asian representation of Bridgerton series on Netflix. For me, Ghosh’s voice contributes to the genre of food journalism and becomes a pioneering voice in an industry that has been dominated by Anthony Bourdain, Andrew Zimmerman, and Adam Richman whom I grew up watching obsessively. Ghosh’s voice in her memoir is refreshing yet meaningful read. If you loved Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential, then do check out Ghosh’s Khabaar, you will love it.
Reading this book felt like a hug from home. Being a south Asian girl, in a faraway country, the book felt very relatable, some of the lines hit me right on the spot. While reading this, I learned that the author was the first girl from her family that came to US to do a PhD, same as me! Reading a bit more I learned that she has done a PhD in biochemistry in the same university as me, again same as me! What are the odds?! I was amazed. So of course, the book felt close to my heart 🤍
Through Khabaar, Madhurshee takes us through her journey, her memories of food and her family. I found it spectacular how she would entwine some of her major life events with food items that were important to her. I adored her use of food stories to tell us about her family. 🍥🍧🥠
You know how a musical uses songs and music to tell us a story? That’s what she’s done. Just with food. 🥮🍧🍲
The book has short chapters. And it’s written in short essay style. Easy to read. Khabaar will be out on 4th April. I highly recommend this to anybody who would love a food adventure. I also feel like south Asians away from home would find some comfort in this! 🏡
Pretty good, but hard to follow sometimes with the way the story was told and only referring to her ex-husband as "my now ex" annoyed me so much after a while. The biggest thing was that I craved Indian food the whole time I read it 😔
This memoir felt like a beloved aunt covered me in a weighted blanket on a couch next to a fire, placed some steaming chai in arm's reach and asked me if I wanted to hear a story. Ghosh's writing is superb-- but it doesn't call attention to itself. You don't realize what a spectacular writer she is because you're already under her spell from paragraph one and too hooked to overanalyze anything-- your job is to enjoy. The entire time I read this, I knew I was safe in the hands of an expert storyteller who can move from sensuality to humor to heartache with grace and humility. This is a must-read-- I was lucky enough to receive an ARC of this book but thank goodness I did, because now I can recommend it to everyone I know.
Ghosh's Baba once said, "The previous generation guides the newest generation." Ghosh honors that wisdom in the stories she tells in Khabaar. In this powerful memoir, food connects generations of Ghosh's family across distances both geographical and emotional. A rich exploration of Bengali cuisine and culture provides the framework for exploring immigration, domestic abuse, family history, and love. I was grateful to receive an Advanced Review Copy. I highly recommend!
I was lucky enough to receive an advanced reader copy of this book and it did not disappoint!
I love a smartly written memoir almost as much as I love food, and this book included both! Thank you for sharing your story in such a rich and creative way.
So much more than a food memoir. A history lesson, a walk through a neighborhood, a constantly widening lens. Recipes, yes, sure, but the gift Ghosh passes on to us of appreciation for memory, for tradition, for found family, is way, way more.
*This book was received as an Advanced Reviewer's Copy from NetGalley.
It's pretty easy to draw me in with a memoir that revolves around food. This one, while not all about food, still was captivating and worth the read for the various aspects it brought outside of food.
Ghosh, in a non-linear method, tells of her life in India, adjustment to living in America as an immigrant, relationship issues and domestic violence, her career, and her family, in a myriad of stories and remembrances of the past in this book. Politics, gender, and other aspects also get attention from her as well.
While the non-linear method for me was sometimes a bit disorienting, I ultimately enjoyed this book because I learned quite a bit from it, which is sometimes rare in memoirs. There were a few recipes (after all, the initial attraction for this book was the food), an inspiring tale of family dynamics, and an inspiring (albeit in a different way) look at personal relationships and how to make hard decisions that ultimately will give you a better quality of life.
This creative memoir is delectable. I am enamored by the writer’s research, experiences, repertoire of stories, and recipes woven together into a compelling read. I learned much about Bengali and south Asian diaspora, food, and family cultures while also admiring the nonlinear (true to cultural storytelling norms) structure. When I chatted with the writer about my initial reactions, she shared: “It’s braided. Folks need to work while reading. Learn and also lean into it. It doesn’t always have to be comfortable. Work to be told the story.” Indeed, the requisite effort to learn, decipher, make connections across chapters or details, made this an especially rewarding read for me.
Interesting way the author weaves history in of India, her memoir, cooking, recipes and culture both Indian and American. I enjoyed the various themes coming together and read the book in just three days. This book was chosen for The Treasure Valley Read in Idaho for March 2023. The author will be coming to discuss the book.
I was grateful to have received an ARC of this book. In Khabaar, Ghosh manages to enlighten and entertain the reader, even while she educates about food, memory, and history. I loved her essay especially on making fish curry--and her literary skill of weaving in dialogue and such great sensory details while letting the reader into the complexities of family relationships. Great lines appear throughout; such as "He nodded; his daughter wasn’t a bad student at all." Both for the content and writing style, I found this truly engaging.
Ghosh's delicious memoir braids together food, immigration, and feminism in ways that keep the reader asking for more. Food is such a beautiful way of telling one's migration story, and the author does so one empowering bite at a time. I was fortunate to read an Advanced Reader Copy. Highly recommend.
I was immediately drawn into this beautiful and vivid collection of essays about food, love, grief and belonging. Khabaar is a powerful testament to family and how food connects us across time and continents. The author weaves such stunning imagery throughout; I almost felt as though I could smell the aromas wafting through the kitchen. The collection will delight your senses while providing a deep honest, eye-opening look at what it means to be an immigrant.
It is often said that you can taste the love in home-cooked food. But, in “Khabaar: An Immigrant Journey of Food, Memory and Family,” author Madhushree Ghosh illustrates how food is not just a vehicle for love and connection, but a window into history, personal memories, and the people behind them.
The daughter of refugees and an immigrant herself, Ghosh’s journey is rocky at times. But, delicious, homemade, organic meals remain a pillar in her homes and help her overcome challenges. Ghosh also weaves stories of chefs and shopkeepers alongside her own, often drawing brilliant parallels to food’s role in history, grief, and trauma. In the aftermath of then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi's assassination, Ghosh's family supported a Sikh-owned business. Through her stories, she draws attention to the discriminatory experiences that this community has faced over time, both in India and America. In another example, a competition between two prata stall owners in Singapore serves as an analogy to her own tense relationship with her ex-husband’s family. These powerful examples show how identity, relationships, and our self-worth can be a hidden ingredient in the food we bring to the table. “Khabaar” is an ode to Ghosh’s Bengali roots and transnational experience, but through her relatable storytelling style, everyone can find a piece of themselves in her journey.
This book was more than I expected, which is a rarity. I expected a food memoir, something about how the smell of panch phoron sputtering in hot oil brings an immigrant back to her mother’s kitchen. This was so much more. There was the very Bengali reminiscences of fish and how she got that special education from her father, but Ghosh also tells us of the emotional neglect and abuse she received by her ex. I felt how she tried so hard to make the marriage work, perhaps trying to emulate her parents’ partnership. She gives great insight into the India of her childhood, including the violence that followed the assault on the Golden Temple and the assassination of Indira Gandhi. She weaves past, present, food stories, and immigrant chefs through her writing, like the warp and weft of her mother’s saris that she wears to celebrate Diwali with her found family. This book is memory, healing, food, history. It is one woman’s tremendous effort toward independence, sometimes caught between her desh and her new home. And, as is so typically Bengali, even as a scientist, she has a poet’s heart.
Book Club read for May 2023. Interesting story about Madhushee's growing up Indian and being raised in America. The struggles with heritage family, and marriage. I thought it was going to revolve around food more. She focuses a lot on her 'now ex', former husband that she never names. Very interesting way for her to process that relationship but I found it a bit off-putting and bitter. She also jumps quite a bit back and forth into other people's stories (historic figures, celeb cooks, etc.). Overall it was good but a little disjointed.
“Khabaar” is the only food memoir-in-essays I know of within the larger framework of South Asian American literary writing which makes it an innovative, urgent intervention. I’m a sucker for first-generation narratives, and the way Ghosh uses food as a doorway into the richness of immigrant life, diasporic grief, loss and resurrection of family, and a play with creative nonfiction as a narrative form makes her memoir not only relatable and poignant, but also a delightful, memorable read.
After hearing the author read at HippoCamp 2022, I purchased her book immediately. Khabaar offers an intimate view into an immigrant’s two worlds: South Asia and the United States. Ghosh masterfully braids memoir, culture, politics, family, and food into a unified experience. Though I plan to make sweet Naru both ways, it is Ghosh’s story that I will long savor.
I’m thrilled that food memoirs are a thing and was excited to dive into this South Asian delicacy. What I found was a lovely and lovingly told story of food and family, traditions and legacies, journeys and homes. Don't miss this singular volume!
Khabaar: An Immigrant Journey, is a weave of many colors and textures, with the idea of food- what the author now cooks and was taught to appreciate in her native India - as a continuous thread throughout. Succulent guavas, the freshest of fish in a neighborhood bazaar, and plantation-grown tea star in their chapters and the far-ranging narrative has an elegant shape and vibrancy. Ghosh’s luminous prose skillfully evokes her childhood and life in a new country. Unsentimental as well as unsparing of herself, she unravels the complex nature of that journey. Khabaar quietly but firmly sets the tone by an examination of the inevitable appropriation and adaptations Western culture makes of food. As she wryly points out, “Imperialism - and as a result, colonialism - has the dubious distinction of evangelizing spices and cuisines of colonized lands. I don’t think we have to debate that...” America, and her current home, California, provide the backdrop for a rather wrenching story of a marriage and escape from an emotionally abusive spouse. I can attest that in particular the story of exiting a marriage with an intractable spouse is told candidly, and with deep feeling. It resonates - the effect of her heartache and rebuilt life rings true. In the “Orange, Green, and White: An Indian Marriage” chapter, her now ex-husband, who often used silence and absence lasting years as punishment for his petty displeasure, hugs her at the courthouse and affects hurt: ”Kya, Madhu, is this how it is to be?” This book is an answer. a memoir that succeeds because it more than fits the brief: Rich in detail and feeling, with the added insight into Indian history as lived by Ghosh’s family. Dedicated to Baba and Ma, her parents, who taught her how to judge produce and fish, to prepare a goat curry and “bunny chow” (not rabbit!), and to celebrate food as a family. The loving portrait she paints of them lingers on past the last pages. Recipes included are the signposts of her journey in miniature. Written during the pandemic, or, as she calls it, “The Great Pause,” it is a sensitive, acute reflection on enforced solitude and its frustrations, fear, but surprising joy, Khabaar is a book alive with personality; flavors to be savored. Highly recommended.
Khabaar is the Bengali word for food and as the author says in an interview with Warwick Books everyone should know a few words in Bengali. Food is an excellent word to know in any language because it is what sustains us. In her memoir, Madhushree Ghosh unfolds her stories of family and homesickness through her love of food. We learn about her history, the history of her family and country, and her personal journey to the United States as a young immigrant pursuing higher education and new opportunities in life. Throughout, Ghosh keeps us tethered to her roots through the food she grew up on. She finds her native dishes in San Diego, searches for them abroad, and revisits them back in South Asia. Her descriptions of the food are delicious, (every pun intended) but her insight into the dynamics of family is profound and brings us together in these times of feeling so distant from one another as we reinvent a world post-COVID-lockdown. The fact that this beautiful book came out on my birthday, 2022, is a coincidence, but I consider it a gift to the world that we all can share. Whether you love memoirs, food writing, or simply learning the history of countries and regions through personal narratives, this book will delight you. And make you hungry. I can't help with the hunger, but I'm sure the book will help with the joy of a well-told story!
My Recommendation: Well worth the read. Ghosh wrote a fascinating series of essays tying various points of her life from childhood to the global COVID-10 pandemic to food and cooking. Sometimes it was hard to read because of the emotions Ghosh was clearly experiencing during the essay, but those moments were balanced with comfort food or entertaining stories connected to food history. I was impressed with the breadth and depth of the collection!
My Response: When the publicist reached out to me about this one, I wasn't sure I had the capacity, but it was five months before it was published so I figured I'd make time!*
That sort of happened. Khabaar was on my TBR pile nonstop from February onward but between all the knitting I was doing and getting distracted by EVERY MM romance novel possible, I kept putting it off to my detriment.
A beautiful book of food, family, culture, and life’s ups and downs.
“It’s been many years since that day in court. Almost as many since I saw him in person. It’s been as many years since I’ve been that woman at the courthouse. Even though I still have that scarf. And even though I mostly wear my hair down. I am still that woman but mostly I am not. Sometimes I wonder what attracts me to stories of strangers. Of strong women who knowingly get into abusive relationships. Or do they. Why do I devour news articles about women who make immensely rational, smart decisions all the time, and then suddenly, without much logic fall in love with someone who pulls them down? According to Shannon Thomas, author of Healing Hidden Abuse, ‘success and strength in such women attracts narcissists and psychopaths. These women, besides being strong, are also extremely empathic people….’ Sometimes I, too, don’t know if I imagined what happened to me, Baba’s daughter, that I let my then-husband treat me the way he did. I also don’t know why, for years and years, I held on to him thinking that without him I’d be nothing. I only know that’s what it was. And how it’s been years after I was that woman. But sometimes, more rarely now, but sometimes I do wonder why.”
Khabaar means food in Bengali. In this collection of essays, Ghosh remind the reader how much food and memory are inextricably linked. She shares her journey from India to America where she looks to make a home for herself. She covers important historical events, lifechanging moments in her personal life, and other less distinguishable memories, and how food plays a part in each one. She shares recipes and the history and/or purpose of various dishes.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. While I've always loved food, never realized how much food can offer in terms of history, comfort and memories. The essays flip between her childhood and adulthood, and we see how an introduction to a food impacted her relationship with it as an adult. I feel more educated in some historic events but at the same time, feel like I got to know the author personally, it was a perfect balance. I loved reading the perspective of a fellow South Asian woman. I was able to relate to her on manv levels.
I recommend this to anyone who loves food, or wants to learn a bit more about the connection between food and memories. Or if you just want to learn a bit more about Indian culture.
If you're thinking this is a book about Indian food, that's correct. If you're thinking this is a memoir, that is also correct. And if you're thinking you'll learn more about Indian culture and history, that is also correct. So this book packs a real wallop and I haven't even gotten started on the author's very personal reflection of her life as a woman of color. At first, I was a little put off by all of the foreign words, many of which the reader is left to figure out on her own, either from context or with a dictionary. The author made a conscious choice to not hold back on using her own familiar words. Eventually, I just accepted that I wasn't going to understand them all, that I need not understand them all, and in life we don't get to understand things 100% so this is, after all, a fair representation of what we may encounter in our own lives.
You will get hungry, you will want to seek out certain dishes and you will be mesmerized by all of the different ingredients of this book.
Thank you to NetGalley for an advance copy of this unusual book.
Reading this book brought back so many memories. The author is exactly my age. She is a Bengali like me and many of her childhood experiences mirrored mine. The traditions that she mentions reminded me of the traditions that I was expected to follow and did follow when I was a child. Her descriptions of going to the fish market as a little girl with her dad matched my memories, eating mutton on Sundays is a popular Bengali habit, the afternoon siestas, the constant requests for milky tea, the family bonding over the afternoon tea took me back to my childhood. I lost my connection with her once she started writing about her immigrant experiences, especially how she diminished herself and her self worth to save her marriage. While telling her own experiences, she incorporates some history of the political scene in India, anecdotes of other well known chefs, local (in America) immigrant run restaurants and their back stories as well as some well known Bengali recipes. I liked 70% of the book but she lost me for parts of it.