In My Kitchen, Heirlooms and Gadgets Share Counter Space
In Deepthi Tanikella’s kitchen, sleek gadgets hum alongside heirloom cookware seasoned by time and memory. Her vantillu is more than a place to cook — it’s where tradition and technology come together, one dish at a time.
I stand in my kitchen amid the soft hum of contemporary gadgets and my well-worn dosa kallu (tawa). My vantillu (kitchen) is about so much more than cooking. It is here that memories of the past meet the present. It is here that family lore is seasoned afresh each time. Every piece of cookware — whether an heirloom ageing in my kitchen, or a new buzzy appliance, contains a little piece of my soul.
Marvels of the Modern Era
Let’s start with the new.
I remember exactly when the electric kettle showed up on our kitchen counter — a small shift that felt surprisingly significant. As someone who tends to drink chai at all hours of the day, I decided to treat myself to an electric kettle. The slick, glass marvel became my breakfast companion in no time. The sound of the kettle's familiar click sets the tone for the rest of my day, the sound of water boiling for my first cup of chai.
At first glance, our egg steamer — a peculiar appliance my husband insisted we bring home — seemed like a frivolous purchase. But boy, was I mistaken! It has fast become the unsung hero of our breakfast routine. The expression on my youngest son’s face when he successfully boiled eggs on his own is one I will never forget. His gastronomic interest, piqued by that minor triumph, sadly only lasted one day.
Egg steamer
Boiled eggs with salt and pepper. Stock image.
The sandwich maker is ideal for making basic cheese toasties, paninis and the Bombay sandwich. Image: Ankiet Gulabani
The little electric chopper has saved me immeasurable time. Its spinning blades have diced many garlic and ginger cloves, without the labour of fingers. Beyond that, it has allowed me to replicate my mom's recipes at a rate she could only have imagined. Occasionally, while I pulse a mixture of spices, I picture her grinning and shaking her head in disbelief at how much has changed in the kitchen since she passed away.
We still have our faithful sandwich maker, which dates back to our dating days. From basic cheese toasties to complex grilled paninis filled with last night's leftovers, it has observed the progression of our family's preferences. An ever-present sound in our lives, the sizzle as the lid closes evokes leisurely Sunday breakfasts and rushed workday mornings.
Revealing Secrets of the Past
Despite the numerous advantages of these technological marvels, nothing delights me more than my trusted old cookware. Every piece is a thread that connects me to a rich heritage of flavours, experiences, and people who came before me.
Perched queen-like on the stove is my dosa-kallu, which I inherited from Vinod's grandmother. Years of care and use have left surface black and glossy, evidence of innumerable crisp dosas. As I pour the batter, I can practically hear Patti's voice directing me: “Deepthi, be patient,” she would admonish. “Listen to the dosa for its flipping cues. Do not be hasty in flipping it without the consent of the dosa,” she would say.
Sitting in the corner is my cherished stoneware pot, which I found at a little country market in Sri Lanka. It has been there for me as I've grown as a cook, from clumsy attempts to replicate my nana's famous dappalam and pulusu, to bold new creations like the Keerai mesial I made for Goya’s Cookbook Club.
The inherited dosa kallu is responsible for numerous special dosas. Stock image
Rokali
Stoneware pot from Sri Lanka
I am attached to my eeya chombu, which has been in my family for three generations. Its polished surface hide stories of innumerable rasams cooked to perfection. My mother would carefully polish it as she went along, explaining how the tin lining brings out more rasam flavour than any new pot could.
The ammi kallu nestled in the corner has been witness my arms' physical strength. The pain in my arms from my first failed attempt at grinding coconut roti pachadi, following my mother's careful directions, lingers today. “Feel the rhythm,” she would advise, “let the stone do the work.”
Amaan dasta, how much we adore her! (Yes, I have names and pronouns for my kitchen favourites). My spice-blending ritual revolves around this solid mortar and pestle I bought from General Bazaar in Secunderabad. Once a resident of my parents’ kitchen, it has finally made its home in mine. My favourite sound is the pleasant thud of the pestle against the mortar, as I smash garlic for a marinade or pound entire spices for a garam masala. When my kids have a stomach ache, I roast a teaspoon of cumin and then pound it in the amaan dasta. One lick of this mix, and the stomach ache disappears. My kids call this the cure-to-all-aches!
Ammi kallu
Amaan dasta
The author’s spice-blending ritual revolves around a solid mortar and pestle she got in Secunderabad. Stock image
Two Realms, One Epic Story
In my kitchen, the efficiency of technology and the authenticity of old tools coexist in perfect harmony. Cooking requires a fine balance.
My beloved mixie jar, a staple in my kitchen, broke down one day. It was a present from my husband's athai, from 15 years ago. At that time, we lived in Chennai and only had access to a rubbu rolu (mortar and pestle). Grinding the lentils and rice for dosa batter was a laborious and time-consuming procedure in the rubbu rolu. Finding suitable new jars and reviving the mixie was a tremendous relief. My friend suggested I look for replacements on Amazon, but honestly, finding jars for my old mixie felt like winning the lottery.
Though I could not replace the jars on time, that was hardly reason to throw away the mixie. I searched and searched until I found a replacement. When we speak about a sustainable environment, this, in my opinion, is a massive component.
In my vantillu, the combination of traditional and modern utensils results in a diverse array of culinary delights. Although the lentils can be cooked quickly in an instant pot for a dal, the meal comes to life when the last tadka is cooked in my seasoned iron kadai. Even though I can quickly dice veggies in my tiny processor, nothing beats a simple curry with the aroma of hand-pounded spices from the amaan dasta or ammi kallu.
Not out of duty, but from an innate need to connect, I find myself drawn more and more to these more conventional approaches in recent years. The repetitive beating of an amaan dasta or the gentle stirring of a stew in a clay pot can have a calming effect. I find solace in these activities because they allow me to connect with the past, and slow down from the pace of an otherwise hectic life.
As I go about my kitchen, my hands naturally reach for the tools most suited to the task, whether the sure touch of a classic instrument or the precision of a modern one. This is where I discover my voice as a home chef, food content creat, and menu menu curator — in the dance between modernity and tradition.
As I stand here, surrounded by both the old and new tools of my profession, I am overwhelmed with thankfulness. Whether it's a fast weeknight dal or a leisurely Sunday feast, the love that seasons every dish is the most important. I am thankful for the ease that allows me to feed my family despite the bustle of modern life, as well as for the traditional ways that ground me in my culture and history.
Here’s a list of my many kitchen appliances and their uses.
Electric kettle: This is perfect for quickly boiling water for tea or blanching vegetables, saving time and patience.
Egg steamer: It’s a morning essential to quickly boil eggs, especially for my daughter’s favourite breakfast of boiled eggs with salt and pepper.
Electric chopper: A lifesaver for finely chopping veggies, especially when making dishes like tangy vatha kulambu where visible veggies are a no-go.
Sandwich maker: My Bombay sandwiches feel extra special and look fantastic when toasted in this.
Dosa kallu: The secret to perfect dosas is using this pan exclusively for fermented foods, as the batter’s acidity helps season it.
Stoneware pot: Clay pots enhance the flavour of South Indian stews and curries, adding a natural earthy zing.
Eeya chombu: A must-have for rasam, as the tin reacts with tamarind to create a unique and authentic flavour.
Ammi kallu: Grinding spices on this stone retains their natural flavors better than an electric mixer, ideal for roti pachadis.
Amaan dasta: Perfect for hand-pounding spices like pepper or cumin, adding bursts of flavour and texture to curries.
Deepthi Tanikella is a storyteller who creates content for food/culture and an accidental menu curator, I love to explore and honour diverse culinary traditions, weaving flavours, memories, and stories to connect people and celebrate my family's legacy.
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