Instagram story viewer> @limeandlettuce> Posts

Bhumika

@limeandlettuce

927

followers

335

following

An attempt at living a healthier life.
Food, gardening & sustainability
Travel tales @bhu.mi.ka
Sindhi food feature:
https://www.theroute2roots.com

POSTS STORIES REELS TAGGED

From Dal Pakwan on Chetichand to a Bengali feast on Poila Boisakh - food is our language of celebration.

SHUBHO NABO BORSHO

The spread:

Rice - Masoor dal
Alu posto
Fried Pompret
Kul er achaar (jujube pickle)
Nolen gurer paayesh by @limeandlettuce

15

0

6 months ago

The garden always has something waiting for me

A bulbul’s nest quietly hidden in a banana plant,
onion flowers blooming like they have all the time in the world,
a tiny lizard stopping by just to say hello.

Nothing here asks for attention.
Nothing tries to be more than it is.

Things bloom, fade, return—
softly, steadily, in their own rhythm.

In full bloom or completely dried,
every phase carries its own kind of beauty.

And maybe that’s what makes it all feel so special…
just being true to nature. by @limeandlettuce

39

1

6 months ago

MORINGA MEMORIES

Like most Indian mothers, Mumma always placed everyone else’s plate before her own. She cooked what Papa enjoyed, what we loved — yet she had a few favourites so uniquely hers that no one else quite claimed them.

The fish head, for instance — a piece Papa would politely push aside. Mumma saved it for herself, turning it into a light, soupy curry for an unhurried lunch. She loved wild summer fruits like khilori (rayan) and sweet–sour phalsa from roadside carts. And then there were moringa flowers — swanjhere ja ghul — which she cooked simply with onions and tomatoes whenever someone found them in the Sindhi market. These were her quiet indulgences in a life devoted to feeding others.

That is, until I got married.

On our early visits to Ahmedabad, Mumma and my husband bonded effortlessly over food. She was delighted to learn that fish head is treasured in Bengali cuisine and traditionally served to the son-in-law. For the first time, her favourite no longer had to be a solitary pleasure. One afternoon, she prepared a beautiful fish lunch and gently placed the fish head on his plate — her way of widening the circle and welcoming another child.

On another visit, when she mentioned swanjhere ja ghul, my husband’s face lit up. He too had fond childhood memories of eating shojne phool, as they call it in Bengali. Mumma was thrilled and promised to cook them the next time we visited.

But that next time never came. Mumma passed away that summer.

Life moved on, and the conversation faded — until a few days ago, when I noticed a moringa tree at my neighbour’s home bursting into bloom. It felt less like a sight and more like a promise waiting to be kept.

I plucked the flowers, cleaned them, and cooked them in her simple onion-tomato gravy, adding lotus stem — another favourite of hers. It was my first time cooking with these flowers, and the sabji turned out gentle and comforting.

As we ate, it felt familiar in a way that is hard to explain. Some foods bring back memories. And some meals, quietly and unexpectedly, bring a sense of closure. by @limeandlettuce

29

3

8 months ago

FIRST HARVEST OF 2026
Soft winter sun, resilient greens, and a heart full of gratitude. by @limeandlettuce

15

0

9 months ago

MUTTON PROMISE

Last Durga Puja in Shantiniketan, we met my husband's aunt — and she cooked us the most unforgettable mutton. Before leaving, we promised her, “Next year, we’ll be back just for this mutton.”

Two months later, everything changed. She was diagnosed with cancer. Hospitals, chemo, endless pain… the once-strong woman who ruled her kitchen could barely walk into it. On our calls, she spoke of the nausea, the loss of taste, and sometimes the fear of not living to see another Pujo.

Each time, we reminded her of that little promise, “You have to get well. We’re waiting for your mutton.” And she clung to those words like a lifeline.

Eighteen chemo sessions. Almost a year long fight. And then Pujo arrived. Frail, yet glowing with spirit, she kept her promise. She gathered every ounce of strength, stepped into the kitchen, and cooked with joy shining in her eyes.

We were filled with gratitude as we ate that special meal. Later she said, “It was this wish that kept me going.”

She was delighted to walk into the Pujo pandal once again and watching her, everyone around her felt a deep sense of joy.

It was a gentle reminder - love and food always carries the power to heal, to strengthen, and to give hope. by @limeandlettuce

81

20

a year ago

COMFORT FOOD

Comfort food looks different these days. Earlier, I would crave ghar ka dal-chawal and alu tuk. Now, comfort has a new flavour — a bowl of masoor dal tempered with paanch phoron and a generous helping of alu posto.

For someone who barely ate fish, I now find comfort in a maach-bhaat lunch. I eagerly wait for ilish season, just so I can make bhapa ilish. The sight of pumpkin flowers fills me with joy because they'll make for the most delicious fritters. Begun posto gives bharta wala baingan a whole new touch, while prawn/chicken biryani makes Sunday afternoons sweeter — always followed by an old hindi movie and a happy siesta.

These aren’t the foods of my childhood. They are the foods I grew into, the ones I embraced after marriage. I still crave (and cook) sindhi kadhi, koki and sai bhaji. But comfort food, I’ve realised, is not just about nostalgia ; it's about feeling loved in a safe space. Marriage has quietly rewritten my comfort food menu, for in him I found my true home.

Pics:
1. Potol posto with pumpkin flower fritters
2. Pumpkin flowers
3. Dal-bhaat, alu posto & fish fry
4. Hilsa (ilish) treat by @limeandlettuce

23

1

a year ago

JULY

Two single-serve papayas, a handful of spinach leaves, a few beans and flowers waiting to turn to veggies...

This kitchen garden teaches me that abundance cannot be measured in quantity. When you sow with love, even the smallest yield becomes a celebration. by @limeandlettuce

25

0

a year ago

I loved this quiet, thoughtful conversation. Bhumika’s way of moving through life with intention reminds me that presence doesn’t require perfection—just attention. I’m grateful for these glimpses into the rituals that ground her.

Check it out on my Substack. Link in bio.
.
.
.
#blog
#selfcare
#rituals by @limeandlettuce

33

1

a year ago

SHUBHO NOBO BORSHO

Nolen gur, or date palm jaggery, is more than just an ingredient for Bengalis; it’s a symbol of winter’s warmth and cultural nostalgia. Its rich, smoky sweetness brings back memories of home, tradition, and togetherness. On Poila Boishakh, the Bengali New Year, making nolen gurer paayesh feels like the most natural way to celebrate - a simple, soulful dessert that connects the past to the present and brings the taste of home to every bite.

Here's to a year filled with sweetest memories. by @limeandlettuce

17

1

2 years ago

When I asked Bhumika @limeandlettuce to pen something on Dal Pakwan – the much-loved Sindhi breakfast, she promised to share something. When I finally received the essay in my inbox, I thought the timing couldn’t have been better as Chetichand, the Sindhi New Year, is round the corner.

Bhumika shares,

Every Chetichand, my thoughts inevitably turn to Dal Pakwan—the iconic breakfast dish that holds a special place in my heart. But it’s never just about the crisp, golden pakwan or the spiced chana dal. It’s about the memories woven into every bite—the hands that prepared it with love, the laughter shared around the table, and the comforting familiarity of tradition.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are woven into the making of Dal Pakwan, a ritual that turned the kitchen into a lively, bustling space. My mother led the process with precision and grace, but it was never a solitary task. Instead, it became a collaborative effort, a coming together of mother and daughters. One of us would knead the dough, another would roll out delicate, thin discs, while a third would take on the careful task of frying them to golden perfection. The air would fill with the inviting aroma of deep-fried Pakwans, mingled with the sound of bubbling oil and the laughter that echoed as we worked together. It was more than just cooking; it was a moment of connection, a tradition passed down through generations.

Continue reading on the blog… #sindhicuisine by @limeandlettuce

223

8

2 years ago

THE FARM-TO-TABLE SCAM

The other day, I came across yet another 'farm-to-table experience'—a fancy phrase that now seems to be a free pass for charging jaw-dropping prices for basic food. Apparently, slapping the word 'experience' on anything gives it an instant upgrade to premium pricing. And Ahmedabad is full of such places, where people are practically queuing up to pay for the privilege of eating something that was probably growing in someone’s backyard an hour ago.

Maybe I’ve changed, or maybe I’ve just wised up, but I find myself moving away from eating out altogether. What I truly crave is a simple, homemade meal at a friend’s or family member’s place—where food isn’t about presentation and price tags but about good company and conversations that linger long after the plates are empty. Call me old school, but I’d rather spend my time and money on things that actually nourish me, not just my Instagram feed.

It’s been three years since I started growing my own food, and now, slowly but surely, I’m reaping the benefits—quite literally. The goal? One meal a day straight from my kitchen garden. And guess what? It’s finally happening. No reservations required.

For anyone in Ahmedabad desperately seeking an 'authentic' farm-to-table experience—complete with a side of bird-watching—I’d be happy to host. Strictly for the love of good company, of course. Expect some banana-heavy recipes because, you know, we only serve what’s fresh that day. Isn’t that how the real farm-to-table folks do it?

On my plate: Raw banana koftas

#farmtotable by @limeandlettuce

32

11

2 years ago

LETTER TO MY KITCHEN GARDEN

Thank you for being my teacher and sanctuary.
In your seasons of abundance, you showed me the joy of harvest and sharing. On quieter days, you became a haven for birds and butterflies, teaching me the importance of creating space for life to thrive. You taught me patience in nurturing life, curiosity to understand your rhythms, and the wisdom to trust the timing of growth. In your soil, I found meaning, and in your seasons, a gentle reminder that everything unfolds when it is meant to.

As I step into the new year, I carry these lessons with me: to cultivate patience, stay curious, and trust that the seeds I plant today will bloom in their own time.

Thank you for being my guide, my muse, and my ever-generous provider.

#kitchengardening #letterstotheearth by @limeandlettuce

51

11

2 years ago