Girl With The Whisk

Girl With The Whisk A confection collection for all the dessert lovers! Where there is a whisk, there is a way!

cravings, but make it nourishing ✨a little throwback to banana split days, just upgradedcreamy yogurt, crunchy granola, ...
01/05/2026

cravings, but make it nourishing ✨
a little throwback to banana split days, just upgraded
creamy yogurt, crunchy granola, a honey drizzle 🍯
same joy, better fuel!

Appe mornings at our place is basically a competitive sport. My mom makes a fresh batch, and before she can even turn ar...
20/04/2026

Appe mornings at our place is basically a competitive sport. My mom makes a fresh batch, and before she can even turn around, my sister, dad, and I have already eaten half of them straight off the stove.

Those perfectly crispy edges? The fluffy insides? That chef’s kiss moment when you dip them in coconut chutney? Unmatched.

My mom has accepted that she’s basically running a 24/7 appe assembly line whenever the four of us are at home. The pan never stops. The spicy coconut chutney bowl gets refilled twice. And somehow, we’re STILL not satisfied.

Send help. Or more batter. Preferably both.

Turns out, even the girl who’d pick tiramisu over mithai any day has her moments!I’ve never been big on indian sweets, b...
10/01/2026

Turns out, even the girl who’d pick tiramisu over mithai any day has her moments!

I’ve never been big on indian sweets, but like my late grandpa, I have my rare cravings. Today is one of those days: his birthday.

Suddenly, I’m back in my school days up north, watching mom wash and peel endless carrots. I’d sneak bites of the grated carrots and bolt before she could catch me (sorry mom!). The whole house would fill with the smell of cardamom and sweet carrots simmering away. That’s when grandpa would finally emerge from his room, leaving behind his books and articles. Such is the power of mum’s cooking!

Fast forward to today: my arms are sore from grating what felt like a mountain of carrots, and I finally get why mom gave me that look every time I stole handfuls. Also hitting me now, just how much love and effort went into every bowl.

Taking small bites, remembering him, and celebrating the way he would’ve loved most. 🧡

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