The Sambar

Priya Amma's sambar was something my mother used to talk about before I ever tasted it. When I finally married into the family and came to Leicester, the sambar was exactly what she had described: the particular sourness of real Palakkad tamarind, the freshness of the curry leaves she grew on the kitchen windowsill, a depth of spicing that took her two hours and she would not share the method. She tried to teach me twice. Both times she kept adding things after I thought we were done. I think the secret was in what she did not measure.