"I began to realise that we shared a bond of flavour; that food was our way of expressing love and nurturing each other - and that maybe there really was magic in my hands, a power that had carried through generations."

I read Andaza within a day and at the end, I just wanted to give Sumayya Usmani a great big hug. This is just not a cookbook; deeply personal and moving, Ms. Usmani has told her story in a beautiful way.

I have been following Sumayya Usmani on social media for a number of years and have seen just how her culinary journey has progressed. The term, 'Andaza' drew me in as that is a philosophy I too abide by when I cook.

The writer reminisces her early childhood days spent aboard a merchant navy ship, spending a year in the UK as a child and then finally settling in Karachi, Pakistan.

"The hope that lay ahead filled me with appreciation for the gifts I was given by the women in my family. I realised that I was a sum of all their parts, from my Dadi's free-spiritedness to Nani Mummy's nurturing, and my mother's ability to create a home anywhere."

Usmani's passion for creating depths of flavour to food was surely instilled by the women in her life. Her life with her maternal grandmother - Nani Mummy, deservedly forms a huge chunk of the memoir. Usmani learnt about contrasting and complementary flavours from both her grandmothers. With her aunt, Guddo Phuppho, Usmani was able to indulge in street food.

The writer talks about her adolescence, life as a student and falling in love for the first time. She goes on to openly and honestly talk about the breakdown of her first marriage to a renowned radio D.J.

With memories, come recipes and each recipe has a story. Ms. Usmani has shared and recreated a beautiful treasure trove of recipes. The photography for each dish is visually stunning. These are recipes that I will most definitely be trying.

In a Nutshell: A beautiful homage to childhood influences on our cooking, written in the form of a memoir cum cookbook. Contains plenty of visibly-yummy Pakistani recipes.

“Sumayya Usmani is an internationally published food writer, author and cookery teacher, who is recognised by BBC Good Food as the UK’s ‘go-to’ expert for Pakistani cuisine.”
Thus says the author’s bio on Goodreads. But I hadn’t heard of her at all!

If you scan through my bookshelves, whether actual (at home) or virtual (on Goodreads), you won’t find any cookbook. The reason is that I don’t like cooking. I cook to live, and not live to cook. I haven’t killed anyone yet with my attempts in the kitchen (and my kids love my cooking – Phew!), but I am not the kind to search for new recipes and experiment with cuisines in my kitchen. As such, I was always a hundred per cent sure that I would *never* read & review a cookery book.

Why this change of mind then?

Just one reason. I couldn’t resist the title of this book - ‘Andaza’. It reminded me of my mum.

‘Andaza’ literally means ‘estimate.’ But the dictionary meaning doesn’t indicate how ubiquitous it is in most mother-daughter conversations about cooking. Whenever I wanted recipes from my mother (who is a stellar cook btw!), I never received any accurate measurements. All I got in lieu of quantities was, ‘Tujhya andaza-ant ghal!’, which roughly translates to ‘Use your judgement to decide the quantity (of the spices.)’ Needless to say, the logical and ignoramus-cook side of me used to get very frustrated at this vague answer. However, today I realise how right she was. Cooking isn’t about the perfect quantity but precise estimates, no matter how oxymoronic that sounds. The best dishes always spring up when you use your andaza to get the balance of ingredients right.

Back to Sumayya Usmani then! Usmani is a lawyer-turned-writer-cum-cookery-teacher. Born and brought up in Pakistan to a privileged family, her atypical early years (spent aboard a merchant ship with her parents) and later childhood, teen and early adulthood years in Pakistan provide the foundation to this coming-of-age memoir.

Usmani describes cooking with andaza as “Sensory Cooking” - feeling the flavours with your fingers, your nose, and your tongue to cook a dish to perfection. I loved one of the statements made by her mother: “Recipes are stories, and ingredients are characters. You can make up your own story as you go along.” That’s the best description of andaza.

Usmani notes the influences of the women in her life – her grandmothers, her mom, aunts, and her ex-mother-in-law – on her own cooking. Her memories, especially about her Nani Mummy (maternal grandmother), her Dadi (paternal grandmother) and her mother, depict the traditional values of families, and the strong bond that is enhanced by sharing recipes and chores in the kitchen.

I relished the casual flow of the book. The writing is so conversational that it feels like you are seated in a cosy nook with the author while she is recounting her life story to you. Usmani is very upfront about her life choices, including the ones that didn’t turn out well. Sometimes, she sounds a bit defensive, but most of the memoir depicts a woman who knew herself and her abilities.

Another thing I loved was her honest portrayal of her life in Pakistan and of the country itself. Pakistan and India seem so inherently similar that I could picture every scene! Most of Usmani’s observations about Pakistan (whether of food or culture) can be applied to India as well. Her anecdotes about the weekly bazaars, the roadside stalls, the kulfiwala, the leery men, the inquisitive women, the struggles of being a modern woman in a conservative country – if ever anyone wants proof of how the people of Indian and Pakistan come from the same roots, this book has it in plenty!

At the same time, it must be noted that her life story isn’t to be taken as an indicator of typical Pakistani lifestyle. Usmani comes from a life of privilege, and she acknowledges it as well. There were many things available to her that would have been unthinkable for an average Pakistani (or Indian) child of that era. Think of this memoir as a representation of the upper-middle or lower-rich class of Pakistani citizens of the 1970s onwards.

Of course, this is also a cookbook, not just a memoir. There are plenty of traditional family recipes, some of which have been given a modern twist. Let me be honest - most of them intimidated me! If I see a recipe with more than 10 official steps, I give up even before trying it. 😁 At the same time, I did read through many of the recipes and loved how detailed and precise they were. Definitely not dominated by andaza! I am sure they will be of tremendous value to the right person who wants to try out Pakistani cuisine. I liked how every recipe had a photographic depiction of the dish, and also how some recipes were grouped by themes such as ‘comfort food’. Another point worth mentioning is that she provides the source of where the ingredients can be obtained, which will be helpful to readers who might want to try out the recipes but don’t stay in Pakistan or India. (South-Asian cuisine is not a matter of a couple of flavourings, after all! We have a whole array of spices!)

There are plenty of family photographs as well scattered through the chapters. However, I wish all of them had come with taglines. In some photos, it was tough to understand who the person was. The food photographs are stunning, no complaints about those.

On the whole, I enjoyed this journey through Andaza, as it provided me a wonderful insight about our neighbouring nation and how similar its people and its cooking are to ours. As the story of a woman who never gave up on her dreams despite some mistakes along the way, the memoir deserves a read.

Definitely recommended to anyone who wants to read a book steeped in culture and flavour, and try out yummy dishes from Pakistani cuisine.

Before I wind up, a shout-out to the cover artist – what a stunning cover and so apt for the writing!

4.25 stars.

My thanks to Murdoch Books and NetGalley for the DRC of “Andaza: A Memoir of Food, Flavour and Freedom in the Pakistani Kitchen”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.

I read this ARC for an honest review
All thoughts and opinions are mine

I must admit it was the cover that drew me in
This is absolutely stunning
I loved this and will be spending more time with this book

A lovely well layed out book. The balance between the recipes and the story behind them is well done. The recipes are varied and look amazing (can't wait to try some)
The images interlacing the story and the recipes really helps paint the full picture

This is a beautiful, endearing and heart-warming book. Not only because the recipes seem delicious, but because of the story it tells. I loved reading Sumayya's story, but I enjoyed even more seeing the history of her family, her relationship with her mother and her grandmothers and how it has been represented in her recipes.
No doubt a cookbook I will be using over and over again,, even if it is just because of how beautiful the photos are.