There’s something about sitting in Pierce or grabbing late-night Halal Guys with a friend that just hits different. The exact same meal—same plate, same taste—somehow feels warmer, fuller, and honestly just better when you’re eating it with someone you care about.
Posts published in “Beyond the Plate”
At first glance, the idea of eating with your hands might seem unusual — especially in a campus setting like Stevens, where the dining hall is filled with forks, spoons, and knives.
Spooky season isn’t just about costumes and cobwebs — it’s about flavor. Every October, the world transforms into a cauldron of cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar.
When I was little, I used to watch my mom press a small red bindi to the center of her forehead before leaving the house.
The whistle of the kettle was always my first alarm. Long before the sun spilled through the curtains, the kitchen filled with the sharp bite of ginger, the sweetness of cardamom, and the earthy warmth of black tea simmering with milk.
In my family, the dinner table is a place where two worlds meet. On one side, there’s my mom’s plate — fragrant with spiced lentils, sautéed okra, and fresh roti.