Andaza: A Memoir of Food, Flavour and Freedom in the Pakistani Kitchen - Sumayya Usmani - ★★★★.¼
AUTHOR: Sumayya Usmani
GENRE: Memoir, Cookbook.
RATING: 4.25 Stars.
In a Nutshell: A beautiful homage to childhood influences on our cooking, written in the form of a memoir cum cookbook. Contains plenty of visibly-yummy Pakistani recipes.
“Sumayya Usmani is an internationally published food writer, author and cookery teacher, who is recognised by BBC Good Food as the UK’s ‘go-to’ expert for Pakistani cuisine.”
Thus says the author’s bio on Goodreads.
But I hadn’t heard of her at all!
If you scan through my bookshelves, whether actual (at home) or virtual (on Goodreads), you won’t find any cookbook. The reason is that I don’t like cooking. I cook to live, and not live to cook. I haven’t killed anyone yet with my attempts in the kitchen (and my kids love my cooking – Phew!), but I am not the kind to search for new recipes and experiment with cuisines in my kitchen. As such, I was always a hundred per cent sure that I would *never* read & review a cookery book.
Why this change of mind then?
Just one reason. I couldn’t resist the title of this book - ‘Andaza’. It reminded me of my mum.
‘Andaza’ literally means ‘estimate.’ But the dictionary meaning doesn’t indicate how ubiquitous it is in most mother-daughter conversations about cooking. Whenever I wanted recipes from my mother (who is a stellar cook btw!), I never received any accurate measurements. All I got in lieu of quantities was, ‘Tujhya andaza-ant ghal!’, which roughly translates to ‘Use your judgement to decide the quantity (of the spices.)’ Needless to say, the logical and ignoramus-cook side of me used to get very frustrated at this vague answer. However, today I realise how right she was. Cooking isn’t about the perfect quantity but precise estimates, no matter how oxymoronic that sounds. The best dishes always spring up when you use your andaza to get the balance of ingredients right.
Back to Sumayya Usmani then! Usmani is a lawyer-turned-writer-cum-cookery-teacher. Born and brought up in Pakistan to a privileged family, her atypical early years (spent aboard a merchant ship with her parents) and later childhood, teen and early adulthood years in Pakistan provide the foundation to this coming-of-age memoir.
Usmani describes cooking with andaza as “Sensory Cooking” - feeling the flavours with your fingers, your nose, and your tongue to cook a dish to perfection. I loved one of the statements made by her mother: “Recipes are stories, and ingredients are characters. You can make up your own story as you go along.” That’s the best description of andaza.
Usmani notes the influences of the women in her life – her grandmothers, her mom, aunts, and her ex-mother-in-law – on her own cooking. Her memories, especially about her Nani Mummy (maternal grandmother), her Dadi (paternal grandmother) and her mother, depict the traditional values of families, and the strong bond that is enhanced by sharing recipes and chores in the kitchen.
I relished the casual flow of the book. The writing is so conversational that it feels like you are seated in a cosy nook with the author while she is recounting her life story to you. Usmani is very upfront about her life choices, including the ones that didn’t turn out well. Sometimes, she sounds a bit defensive, but most of the memoir depicts a woman who knew herself and her abilities.
Another thing I loved was her honest portrayal of her life in Pakistan and of the country itself. Pakistan and India seem so inherently similar that I could picture every scene! Most of Usmani’s observations about Pakistan (whether of food or culture) can be applied to India as well. Her anecdotes about the weekly bazaars, the roadside stalls, the kulfiwala, the leery men, the inquisitive women, the struggles of being a modern woman in a conservative country – if ever anyone wants proof of how the people of Indian and Pakistan come from the same roots, this book has it in plenty!
At the same time, it must be noted that her life story isn’t to be taken as an indicator of typical Pakistani lifestyle. Usmani comes from a life of privilege, and she acknowledges it as well. There were many things available to her that would have been unthinkable for an average Pakistani (or Indian) child of that era. Think of this memoir as a representation of the upper-middle or lower-rich class of Pakistani citizens of the 1970s onwards.
Of course, this is also a cookbook, not just a memoir. There are plenty of traditional family recipes, some of which have been given a modern twist. Let me be honest - most of them intimidated me! If I see a recipe with more than 10 official steps, I give up even before trying it. 😁 At the same time, I did read through many of the recipes and loved how detailed and precise they were. Definitely not dominated by andaza! I am sure they will be of tremendous value to the right person who wants to try out Pakistani cuisine. I liked how every recipe had a photographic depiction of the dish, and also how some recipes were grouped by themes such as ‘comfort food’. Another point worth mentioning is that she provides the source of where the ingredients can be obtained, which will be helpful to readers who might want to try out the recipes but don’t stay in Pakistan or India. (South-Asian cuisine is not a matter of a couple of flavourings, after all! We have a whole array of spices!)
There are plenty of family photographs as well scattered through the chapters. However, I wish all of them had come with taglines. In some photos, it was tough to understand who the person was. The food photographs are stunning, no complaints about those.
On the whole, I enjoyed this journey through Andaza, as it provided me a wonderful insight about our neighbouring nation and how similar its people and its cooking are to ours. As the story of a woman who never gave up on her dreams despite some mistakes along the way, the memoir deserves a read.
Definitely recommended to anyone who wants to read a book steeped in culture and flavour, and try out yummy dishes from Pakistani cuisine.
Before I wind up, a shout-out to the cover artist – what a stunning cover and so apt for the writing!
My thanks to Murdoch Books and NetGalley for the DRC of “Andaza: A Memoir of Food, Flavour and Freedom in the Pakistani Kitchen”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.
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