I love to travel and I love to eat. I have memories of great food experiences around the world. India was one of my first ventures abroad. Through Servas, an international friendship organization, I was invited to spend a couple of days with a middle-class family in Mumbai.

They had servants who did dishes and cleaned the apartment but the mother and two adult daughters did the cooking. Mid-morning they brought bowls of vegetables, sharp knives and cutting boards into the living area. Sitting cross-legged on a sofa they spent the next hour chatting and chopping vegetables.

Mid-afternoon they followed the same routine. The meals were vegetarian and spicy, accompanied by hand formed chapatis, the whole wheat Indian flat bread that we used to move the daal (lentil soup) and vegetables from bowl to mouth.

Prior to my visit I had read carefully the importance of respecting Indian culture and knew that it was proper to keep the left hand under the table. The left hand is reserved for hygiene purposes, the right hand is used for eating. Curling the bread into a scoop, getting some soup to stay long enough to get it in my mouth was hard but even harder was getting the soft bread to scoop the vegetables and rice without it falling apart. They finally took pity on me and suggested that I use both hands.