Grandma’s Secrets: Timeless Recipes from the Past

I still remember sitting in my grandma’s kitchen as a little child. The kitchen wasn’t fancy—just a clay stove, brass utensils, and a big wooden box filled with spices. But for me, it was the most magical place in the world. The smell of ghee sizzling in the pan, the sound of mustard seeds popping, and the sight of grandma moving around with calmness made me feel safe and loved. My Dadi  never measured ingredients with spoons or cups. A pinch of this, a handful of that, and somehow it always turned out perfect.  “Cooking is not about the recipe,” she would say, “it’s about the love you put into it.” And truly, every bite carried her warmth, her patience, and her heart.

Whenever I think of food that truly comforted me, it’s always grandma’s traditional recipes that come to mind. They weren’t complicated, but they were full of flavour, warmth, and emotions. Today when I cook in my kitchen I always remember how Dadi used to do it. She is no more with us but I remember her through her teachings whether its in kitchen or in life. Today, I try to recreate those recipes in my small kitchen. I follow her methods, though my hands are not as graceful, and my spices don’t quite have that same magic. But every time I cook, I feel her presence guiding me.

 Why Grandma’s Traditional Recipes Were So Special

1. Simple Ingredients, Timeless Taste
She never needed fancy ingredients. A few vegetables from the garden, a spoon of masala from her spice box, and lots of love—that was her recipe for happiness. No sabji masala or kitchen king masala were available to her but still she managed to cook the best food.

2. Patience in Every Step
Cooking was never rushed. Dal was allowed to bubble slowly, rotis puffed up on the hot tawa, and pickles took their sweet time under the sun. That patience gave her food a magic touch.

3. Food as Medicine
Dadi  always had a cure ready in the kitchen. Cough? Turmeric milk. Stomach ache? Ajwain water. Weakness? Fenugreek ladoos. She believed food was not just to fill the stomach, but to heal the body.

4. Love, the Secret Ingredient
Even if two people followed the same recipe, Dadi’s dish always tasted different—because she added the one ingredient you can’t buy in any store: love.

5. Never used metal utensils 

Dadi always used to cook in clay utensils only. Its not that we didn’t have metal utensils but she says cook food in what mother nature has given and it should be biodegradable back to the earth. This way we can save our earth. I remember how dal slowly simmered in her clay pot, filling the air with an aroma richer than any restaurant meal. She would smile and say, “Mitti ka bartan khane ka swad badha dete hain. Mitti apna pyaar deti hai.” (Earthen pots make food taste better, because the earth adds its love.)

 Recipes That Carry Memories

1. Moong Dal Khichdi – Comfort in a Bowl

A mix of rice and yellow moong dal cooked with turmeric and ghee. Simple, soft, and soothing—this was grandma’s go-to dish for sick days, rainy evenings, or whenever we needed comfort. Dry roast the Daal and soak rice for 10-15 min.[ Soaking rice make them soft and easier to digest.] Mix the soaked rice and daal with hot water add turmeric & ghee , a pinch of hing. Let it shimmer on low flame until it became soft. . Dadi always said, “Khichdi should be soft, almost like porridge—easy to eat, easy to digest.” Add ghee on top, fresh coriander sprinkled, and sometimes papad or achar on the side.

2. Seasonal Pickles – Sunshine in a Jar

The terrace would be filled with glass jars, mango pieces, chilies, or lemons soaking in oil and spices. One spoon of that tangy achar could brighten up even the plainest meal.

Dadi always believed, “Achaar sirf chatpata saath nahi, yeh har mausam ki nishani hai.” (Pickle isn’t just a side dish, it is the essence of every season.)

 Winter: Spicy Lemon Pickle (Nimbu ka Achaar)

When the cold winds blew, Dadi would sit in the courtyard [Baranda] with a big basket of yellow lemons. She patiently cut them, added salt, turmeric, and left them in the sun. Every day, she would shake the jar, saying, “Sooraj ka pyaar isse behtareen banata hai.” (The sun’s warmth makes it perfect.)
This lemon pickle stayed for months, ready to brighten every simple meal of dal-chawal or paratha.

Summer: Tangy Mango Pickle (Aam ka Achaar)

Summer mornings meant the smell of raw mangoes being cut on the big wooden board. Dadi mixed them with mustard seeds, red chilli, and lots of mustard oil. The entire house filled with that sharp, mouth-watering aroma.
This was the king of pickles—served with parathas, mathri, or even plain rice. No summer felt complete without aam ka achaar.

Monsoon: Green Chilli Pickle (Hari Mirch ka Achaar)

During rains, when vegetables were fewer, Dadi made quick green chilli pickle. Slit chillies, stuffed with spices, dipped in mustard oil—it was ready in just a few days. Spicy, fiery, and full of warmth, it perfectly matched the cloudy monsoon skies.

 Winter-Spring: Gajar-Gobhi-Shalgam Pickle

As winter faded into spring, fresh carrots, cauliflower, and turnips arrived in the market. Dadi would chop them, blanch lightly, and then marinate in spices, jaggery, and mustard oil. This pickle was sweet, sour, spicy—all in one bite. We kids loved it the most!

The Magic of Pickle-Making

Pickling wasn’t just cooking—it was a ritual. Dadi always made us help: cutting, drying, mixing, and keeping the jars in the sun. She said, “Achaar banane mein dhairya aur pyaar dono chahiye.” (Pickle needs both patience and love.)

Every jar was a piece of time preserved. Even today, when I open a bottle of homemade pickle, I don’t just taste mango or lemon—I taste my childhood, the laughter of the courtyard, and Dadi’s hands mixing spices with care.

3. Handmade Roti with Ghee

Her rotis were soft, warm, and perfectly round. Just one bite with a spoon  of homemade ghee tasted better than anything we could ever order from outside.

4. Kheer – Sweet Memories in Every Spoon

No festival or celebration was complete without kheer & churma . Rice simmered in milk, sweetened with jaggery, and sprinkled with cardamom—it tasted like joy in a bowl. Wheat roti pounded in morter, Mixed with  melted ghee and jaggery. It was a match made in  Heaven.

5. Besan Laddoos – Winter’s Golden Treat

The smell of roasted besan and ghee filled the air as she rolled golden laddoos with her hands. Eating one felt like receiving a warm hug from her.

Method (step by step, like Dadi taught)

• Heat the ghee & roast the besan
  In her heavy iron kadhai, Dadi would melt ghee on low flame, then add the besan. She roasted it patiently, stirring continuously. “Slow fire makes the besan bloom,” she’d say. The besan turned golden and filled the kitchen with a nutty fragrance.
• Add cardamom & nuts
  Once the besan was perfectly roasted, she added cardamom powder and sometimes cashews/almonds. The crackle of nuts in hot besan was music to our ears.
• Cool & Mix Sugar
  She let the mixture cool slightly—never adding sugar while it was too hot, otherwise the ladoos would turn sticky. Then she mixed in powdered sugar, folding it gently until it became a soft, aromatic mixture.
• Shape into Ladoos
  With warm hands, Dadi rolled small, perfect ladoos. She always said, “Haath ka pyaar sabse zaroori hai.” (The love of your hands is the most important ingredient.)

 Bringing Back Grandma’s Secrets Today

Even though our lives are busier now, we can still keep her traditions alive:

• Cook slowly, without rushing.
• Use fresh, seasonal ingredients.
• Value the healing power of simple spices.
• And most importantly—cook with love.
• Because food made with love doesn’t just fill the stomach—it stays in the heart forever.

Grandma’s kitchen was more than a place to cook—it was a place of warmth, wisdom, and connection. Her recipes are not just dishes; they are stories, memories, and blessings passed down through generations.

Whenever I cook her recipes today, I feel like she is right there with me, smiling and saying, “Add a little more love, and it will be perfect.”