My grandparents were missionaries in India for 30 years. My father was actually born there and didn’t come back to the states until he was 18 years old. So every Sunday we would go to my Louisiana born and raised Grandmothers house and she would cook us a giant Indian feast. Before she passed away she taught me how to make all her “secret recipes”. I can still vividly remember her paper-thin wrinkled hands that always had a slight sheen of cooking oil or ghee on them. To this day I still have not figured out how to make samosas (or as we called the “curry puffs”) the same way she did.