12/06/2026
For me, Sath/ satt is inseparable from childhood and from my grandmother's hands.( Not very fond of sweets though)but
I remember sitting beside her as we peeled and squeezed the mangoes, removing the fibres and churning the golden pulp into a smooth paste before slathering it carefully onto plates to dry in the sun. Impatient and unable to resist,
I would sneak a finger into the still-wet pulp and lick its sweetness before it had time to set. Months later, when the skies turned grey and the monsoon settled over Goa, small rolled pieces of Sat would appear like little pockets of sunshine. Handed to us as treats, they brought brightness into damp afternoons and sweetness into days darkened by rain.
I was reminded of this when I travelled to canacona in mid April to gift a copy of Forest Recipes of Goa to Asma Pagi Pereira
whose knowledge and generosity had found their way into its pages. Outside her home, large circles of Sat lay drying in the sun, catching the warmth of the afternoon. Before I left, she placed one of those beautiful rounds into my hands. I had come to offer her a book that carried her stories; she sent me away with the taste of her summer. In that exchange was the essence of food itself—not merely sustenance, but memory, gratitude, and reciprocity. The most meaningful gifts return to us transformed, carrying the care, labour, and love of the hands that made them.
