At the start of the pandemic everyone was told, “essential services only,” which meant essential personnel only as well. My family owns an Indian restaurant in my hometown of Huntsville, Alabama. So we had to quickly figure out how to make a restaurant work with only the chefs and people to package the food and prepare it for take-out. What used to be a full, busy restaurant with servers whizzing by, eager customers, and a chaotic (but beautiful) kitchen, was whittled down to only a handful of people. Three of the chefs, my mom, sometimes my brother- in- law when he could grab a break from working virtually, and I were all that was left of a restaurant that used to be bustling with activity. Now, we were wearing masks while baking in the kitchen and then running forward to give take-out orders to eager patrons. Every day, hungry customers would ask, “When do you think you’ll open the dining room again?” I would smile, forgetting that they couldn’t see my fake smile as I would say, “Oh we have no idea, it just depends on COVID, but we’re hoping to open again in about a month,” even though I knew we wouldn’t. Although I knew COVID would be nowhere under control anytime soon, I chose to do my project on Vegetable Hakka Noodles because they’re part of an amazing Indo- Chinese cuisine that helped bond my family together during COVID- 19.

And so we did that for about 3 months, just the six of us, no other help, because everyone was (justifiably) too afraid to leave their homes. We opened in 2017, so I had become a pro at running the restaurant while it was in full swing, but that was with a full kitchen and wait staff. I lived for the Sunday buffet, with the line starting out the door sometimes before we were even open. When there were so many people coming in and out, you would’ve thought the restaurant had a revolving door. And now, it was often just as busy. But customers would make it no further than the cash register. I wasn’t able to see the excitement on their faces as I brought out a sizzling plate of chicken tandoori, or my nervousness as they tried a bite of a dish I had suggested to them, and their satisfaction as that suggestion was exactly what their palate never knew they had needed.

And so, we worked, with no other choice, until June, when COVID restrictions had slightly eased and we could finally have some reinforcements. But during those trying times, the kitchen became my home. As the saying goes, “the kitchen is heart of the home,” and I was spending all my time in a kitchen, either at home or at our restaurant. I, like many others, found comfort in being with my family. In spending time together. There were many difficult times; all of us felt overworked and confined to a house that at times didn’t seem like it could hold us all. But many of my favorite memories come from a kitchen. From childhood, helping my amma (mom) cook, as her trusty, but inexperienced sous chef. In middle school, coming home to find my mom’s make- your- own- quesadilla station all set up. To high school, the feasts my mom would have all prepared with all my favorite dishes when I returned home from boarding school breaks. To American holidays, we made our own because my sister and I insisted we had to have a Thanksgiving feast, and my mom giving in because she wanted us to be happy, so we would make Indian- American fusion dishes. To college, trying to squeeze in as many cooking lessons as possible with my mom before I had to return to university. It was during this time I wholeheartedly fell in love with Indo- Chinese food.

I’ve always loved Indo- Chinese cuisine. The name literally has two of my favorite cuisines right in the title. But it wasn’t during the pandemic that I recognized Indo- Chinese food as a comfort food as well. Sometimes, after a long, non- stop Friday night, one of the chefs would have a treat ready for us. Sometimes it would be Schezuan Chicken Fried Rice or Chili Paneer or Vegetable Hakka Noodles. After a day of working on my feet, sympathizing with UberEats drivers about their endless shifts, placating hungry customers, Indo- Chinese food would be waiting for me.

I’ve always loved spicy, savory foods. I get it from my mom, as I do all my best qualities. Once, when I was a kid, one of my mom’s friends asked her, “you like spicy food right- I thought you might like this recipe,” and I couldn’t help but blurt out, “I like spicy food too!” My mom, my bhava (brother- in- law), and I love spicy food; we’re always on the hunt for a better pepper or a richer red for a cayenne pepper powder. And Indo- Chinese food gave that to us, a love of which we all could bond over.

Time for a little history lesson: thought to originate from the northeast of India, Indo- Chinese cuisine was created around the end of the nineteenth century and beginning of the twentieth in the then- called city of Calcutta. Calcutta used to be the capital of the British Empire in India until 1911, so it was a hub that attracted a variety of people, including Hakka- speaking Chinese. Thus was born Indo- Chinese cuisine. With India’s independence, Calcutta became Kolkata, but Indo- Chinese was already an established cuisine by that point. The dates are a little unclear; however, some accounts state that Chinese immigrants founded Indo- Chinese food in India as far back as 250 years ago. Regardless, the Silk Road played a large part in the cultural exchange that occurred. Many of the names of Indo- Chinese dishes have Chinese influences, such as Gobi Manchurian or Schezuan Fried Rice or Vegetable Hakka Noodles.

A large part of the reason why I love Indo- Chinese food, and this especially applies to Vegetable Hakka Noodles, is because of how versatile it is. As is common in Indian cuisine, there’s a base that many dishes derive from, and once you’ve learned that base, the possibilities are endless. In the case of Vegetable Hakka Noodles, you can choose to add in whichever vegetables you wish, so long as you include the base that I mentioned in my recipe. You can also add in whichever protein you want as well: more eggs, chicken, paneer… and the list mostly stops there for the Hakka Noodles. But there’s more you can do with shrimp or lamb in other dishes as well. However, I just prefer the Hakka Noodles simple: with eggs and a few of my favorite veggies, and it fits just about any occasion.

My mom is the best cook I know, and I know a lot of professional, Indian chefs, but then again, I’m definitely biased. My mom says she’s not half the cook her mom is. I don’t think I’m a quarter of the cook my mom is, so by the time my kids start cooking, they’re doomed. Everyone on my mom’s side of the family more or less learned how to cook from my grandmother, including my aunts, who married into the family. So regardless of whose cooking it is, it still tastes like home, like family. Since I think I can never reach my mom’s level of culinary mastery and finesse, my brother- in- law is my attainable goal. To be clear, he’s a better cook than I am- in present day. But he says I’m as good as he is; he’s just faster. He’s the one who helped me make the Vegetable Hakka Noodles for the project. I don’t think it’s possible for me to think of cooking or Indian or Indo- Chinese cuisine without thinking of my family.

And to give credit where credit’s due, my akka (elder sister) is also a good chef. She’s the one who’s helped me refine my non- vegetarian cooking, since my mom is a vegetarian. My sister’s also the one who got me into baking from a young age, forcing me to help her make cakes for fun. She is my go-to person now when I have baking questions or need feedback. She just can’t handle spicy food like we can, though.

I can’t express enough love for noodles, or Indo- Chinese food, or their beautiful combination: Vegetable Hakka Noodles. Veg Hakka Noodles are relatively easy to make, but that doesn’t take anything away from a cuisine and dish that brought my family together during incredibly difficult times.