One of the first memories I have as a child was when my mother used to hold four-year-old me by my arms, stopping me from fidgeting for just one second to tell me, “I am making Rajma tonight, so come home soon.” I would forget all about the children waiting for me to come outside and play. My day had just been made.
I remember rushing home after playing, my knees bruised from being clumsy, and yelling from the door, “Do we have radish as salad with the rajma? Because if not, I am not eating it.” Yes, I was a stubborn kid, but my mom made it happen—every single time.
This was just the beginning of a lifelong obsession with my mother's food: her Garhwali version of the sambhar, her experiments with gujiyas, and her classic arhar dal and chawal. Every comfort food I can imagine is somehow linked to a memory I have with my parents: my father sneaking away some dry rajma masala to give me while he cooked on the weekends, and my mother knowing exactly what he was doing.
These are only a few food memories I can fit in here, but there are many people just like me who have found immense comfort in their mom's cooking. This Mother's Day, ELLE Gourmet had a chat with many personalities on their favourite comfort dish made by their moms, and to be honest, you might want to go back home to your mother after reading this.
Chef Stefan Gadit, Torii by Gauri Khan
Chef Stefan Gadit still finds comfort in a steaming bowl of khow suey that his mother used to make, with coconut milk, vegetables, and toppings, on special occasions. “It was always a ‘treat’ meal—festive, yet incredibly nurturing,” he recalls. “The rich, creamy broth, the tang of lime, the crunch of fried garlic—it was a full sensory experience.”
What made it even more special was how she’d turn it into an event: toppings laid out in little bowls, everyone building their own bowl at the table, choosing from an array of toppings like chopped coriander, fried onions, peanuts, and chilli oil.
Today, he makes it often, putting his own spin on it, sometimes tweaking it with lemongrass or vegetarian versions, but always with the same intention: “comfort, generosity, and bringing people together at the table, just like she did," he says.
Diipa Büller-Khosla, Founder, Indē Wild
Biryani khichdi may be unfamiliar to many, but for Diipa Büller-Khosla, the founder of Indē Wild, it’s a childhood staple that blends the striking flavours of Punjabi biryani with the humble comfort of dal-rice. “It was my go-to meal when I felt homesick at uni, even if I cheated with a premix,” she says.
On being asked how her mom made this dish, she replies, “The right way to make it is to slow-cook dal with rice, like a classic khichdi, but then infuse it with all the traditional biryani staples: bay leaf, clove, star anise, cinnamon, green and black cardamom, fennel seeds, and shahi jeera. Finally, we finished with a sizzling tadka of cumin seeds, ghee, and red chilli, which was my favourite part growing up.”
“Mom is also an ayurvedic doctor, so what’s really beautiful is how those same ingredients are flavourful and functional,” she says.
But the meal was part of a larger Sunday ritual: “She’d call us in for a champi with her homemade oil, stored in a glass Horlicks bottle with a hibiscus flower inside. Then, oil in our hair and khichdi in our bowls, we’d nap together. Peak self-care.” It’s that ethos that now powers her beauty brand, Indē Wild.
Richa Johri, Culinary Director, Unico
For Richa Johri, it’s not just a dish, but a legacy. Raised in a home where both her mother and grandmother were culinary torchbearers, one a celebrated home chef and academic, the other the founder of a catering institute, Johri carries forward a tradition rooted in Kayastha cuisine.
“Seviyyan ka Muzzaffar marked the end of every celebration. It’s a simple yet soulful dessert, handed down through generations—my grandmother's original recipe, perfected by my mother, and adapted by me for modern, commercial kitchens. That dish, more than anything else, reminds me of home,” she shares.
Richa has now taken this heirloom recipe to a new height by recreating it in her own professional kitchen. She says, “In my restaurant, I crafted a signature dessert by wrapping the Seviyyan in phyllo pastry, baking it to a crisp, and serving it warm with vanilla ice cream. It was a bestseller for six years at my Chandigarh outlet.”
Daughters are often considered an extension of their mothers. More than the physical similarities, it is the skills that are passed down through generations that make this relationship so interesting. “When someone jokes that I’ve surpassed my mother in the kitchen, she says, “She better be—she has my DNA, my training, and I’ve invested a fortune in her culinary education. She owes it to all of us not to disappoint” with a smile,” she concludes.
Kriti Dhiman, Food Content Creator
For Kriti Dhiman, her mother’s rajma chawal remains the ultimate mood-lifter. “A plate full of it can instantly make me happy,” she says.
What elevated the dish was her mom’s signature accompaniments: green chutney, pickled onions, papad, and raita, a desi bowl that rivalled any burrito.
She remembers Saturdays when her mother would wake up early to pack it in her tiffin. “Although it used to get cold and sticky, it still tasted like heaven. That dish is a labour of love. I try to recreate it now and then, but I’ve accepted that some dishes taste best only when your mom makes them,” she says.
Chef Tarun Arora, Pullman & Novotel New Delhi Aerocity
Golden, flaky, and flecked with winter fenugreek, Aloo Methi Parathas are far more than a breakfast item for Chef Tarun Arora. Recalling childhood train rides to his grandmother’s house, he says, “Whenever we travelled to my grandmother’s house, my mother would lovingly prepare these parathas for the trip. They were the perfect travel companion — comforting, easy to carry, and delicious even when eaten cold, staying soft and flavourful throughout the journey.”
“Whenever I returned home to India from the US, my mother would make sure to prepare Aloo Methi Parathas for me, knowing how much I missed them. It wasn’t just about the food, it was her way of welcoming me back home, a simple gesture filled with love and warmth.”
Now, his wife makes the same parathas for their children after learning it from his mother, and the recipe even features on his breakfast menu.
“It is more than just a dish; it is a taste of home, a reminder of maternal warmth, and a way for others to experience the comforting simplicity and love that only a mother’s touch can bring,” he concludes.
Chef Prateek Jha, KOCA by Yuvraj Singh
Few dishes spark as much nostalgia as rajma chawal, and for Chef Prateek Jha, it’s a taste of childhood and sibling camaraderie.
“We have fought over the last bite of this dish, hidden it inside the fridge, overeaten at times just because we loved it so much. While I was away from home, my mom would actually not make it, saying she will make it when I come back, leaving my younger brother craving for it even more,” he says.
He recalls how happy her mother would get while serving the dish to him. “You can somehow sense the happiness in my mother's eyes every time I eat it. And I feel it's that love behind the cooking and serving that evokes the strong emotions,” he says.
Though he now serves a reimagined version, the original recipe always peaks out. “My adaptation at the restaurant is more of a progressive approach, where I have tried to stay true to the flavours but delivered the same dish differently,” he says.
There’s something about a mother’s cooking that no five-star menu or technique can replicate. Because the star ingredient is love. It’s not just the balance of flavours, but the emotion stirred into every ladle, every tadka, every lovingly packed tiffin. For these people, their mothers’ kitchens were not just places of nourishment, but the very heart of their homes, and in many ways, the foundation of their own journeys with food.