I've been interested in cooking ever since I was a child. There's an article about my early, precocious experiences which you might enjoy: "The ABC of Cooking." For a while, I toyed with pursuing the culinary arts professionally, and even catered some dinners for friends. Then I went to a conference of the American Institute of Wine and Food in the Napa Valley and heard some sobering general advice from professionals (aimed at anyone who wanted to start a restaurant): “Do it with someone else's money!" Since then, I'm content to have cooking be a hobby.

Of course, being a writer gives me the opportunity to play with what's being served and eaten in my books. The Death of Vishnu has a number of food references—for instance, tinned processed Kraft cheese was always a rare imported delicacy in India while I was growing up. As for "Russian Salad samosas," I've never actually tasted them, though with Indian ingenuity, perhaps the day is not far off. I did come close when we had a media lunch for the launch of Vishnu in New York, and the chef (whose specialty was fusion Indian) was asked to create riffs on some of the dishes from the book. The samosas were filled with something unusual (I don't remember what, though it wasn't Russian Salad), but fortunately, no Velveeta cheese was served.

The food references in The Age of Shiva aren't as prominent, perhaps—though they're still there. This time, my heroine Meera was by no means a great cook, but, hey, I worked with what I had.

So what's my cooking like? I like serving dinners in courses (like the appetizer course above). (Interestingly, courses were common in royal Indian kitchens: the foods served with bread were eaten first, and the rice course, usually a biryani, was served afterward.) What I also like is incorporating one or two ingredients from Cuisine A into a recipe from Cuisine B (such as a French cream soup made with coconut milk instead of cream). And it's wonderful to use Indian spices and ingredients in unexpected places (my current favorite is kokum, a fleshy dried fruit from South India that imparts a wonderful sweet-sour taste together with a startling purple color—guests have no idea what's in their gravy or sauce).

Look for some recipes here or on my blog in the future, including one for Salmon with Orange and Mint (picture below), which combines mint and coriander from India with salmon and cream from France (and has successfully endured many dinner parties).

Speaking of Indian foods, as of 2007, the glorious Alphonso mango, which is the king of the king of fruits, is finally available at Indian stores in the U.S. (Look for them in April and May—another good variety called "Kesar" is available until mid-June.) If you've never had anything but tasteless stringy supermarket varieties (such as the dreaded Tommy Atkins), be prepared for a shock. In order to experience the best flavor, you need to ensure the mango is ripe but not overripe: the point at the base should give a little, and the aroma should be intoxicating. Simply cut it longitudinally (close to the pit) into three sections, use a spoon (if you must) to get at the flesh from the outer sections, but for heavens' sake, just bite directly into the flesh around the pit!