Welcome to My Heart Kneads
A Cozy Kitchen for Liberation, Full Bellies & Clean Water
Hello, I’m Harini (Hah-roll the r-ih-knee). In this kitchen, we believe:
- Bread is sacred, not always perfect, but we bake it anyway.
- Water is a right so we fight for it.
- Hunger is not a shame, and cravings are compasses.
I bake because food is memory. Because nothing compares to the soft, spongy texture of your paati’s idli or the smell of your amma’s rasam -or the quiet miracle of thayir saadham—and nothing hurts quite like failing to recreate it. (Yes, I’ve stared down a pot of “almost but not quite” sambar for days, too.)
Food is my love language, but the fact that people are starved as a weapon of genocide while I bake and cook in my kitchen is not lost on me. This space is about holding both:
- The joy of a perfect dosa (the only crepe I acknowledge),
- The rage that starvation is manufactured from Gaza to Congo to Sudan to the food deserts of Turtle Island.
I’ve started this blog a dozen times and abandoned it—too overwhelmed by ideas or guilt. But here’s what I know: Recipes alone won’t feed the revolution, but neither will empty slogans without full plates. So let’s talk flaky Malabar parottas and land back.
So we bake. We Fight. And sometimes? We eat frozen pizza and try again tomorrow.
