THE COMMUNITY THALI

In my final months at the University of Gastronomic Sciences, I found myself reflecting on how much my time here had shifted the way I see food and myself.
What began as academic research into the Western perception of Indian food gradually evolved into a series of dining experiences, collaborative events, and finally, my final portfolio project: The Community Thali.
In India, a thali is a complete meal served on a single plate, with a variety of small dishes arranged to offer balance, abundance, and connection.
My version takes that idea beyond the table, a travelling thali that carries not just food, but stories, people, and cultures.
Born from nine months of learning, unlearning, and connecting, this project is both a personal expression and an open invitation to anyone who believes in the power of food to bring people together.
This journey began with movement, not just moving countries, but moving mindsets. Leaving the comfort of what I knew and stepping into Bra, Italy, brought me into the most unexpected friendships and learnings. UNISG gave me space to explore, to shift, and to re-root.
Movement can be unsettling, but I was held by care, the first ingredient of any true community. Care from classmates, professors, and people who listened, responded, and shared their own truths. That care made me brave enough to experiment, speak, and share.
Care gave me the confidence to look, really look. Not just at other food cultures, but at my own, through a new lens. UNISG gave me a fresh outlook, a way to see Indian food beyond the stereotypes I'd grown up defending. I stopped asking how others saw my country, and started asking: How do I want to show it?
That question unlocked a flood of ideas, unfiltered, urgent, and deeply personal. They became the backbone of my three academic papers: The Curried Contemplation, Spilling the Tea, and The Spice Museum. All three examined India's identity through the Western gaze, but each also helped me reclaim my own.
Ideas need mediums, so I turned to the one I know best: food. I brought my papers to life as experiential narratives.
Unscrolled India, inspired by The Curried Contemplation, was a dinner for 25 guests where not a single dish featured curry. The meal began with a savoury roll from Gujarat called khandvi and ended with an unrolled sweet pancake from Himachal Pradesh, unscrolling the notion that Indian food is only curry.

The Mad Tea Party, sparked by Spilling the Tea, reimagined the Alice in Wonderland scene in collaboration with two of my classmates, Aoi and Marlies. Through pastry, we told personal stories of identity, migration, and belonging.
The Osmosphere Project, born from The Spice Museum, allowed me to share my garam masala, the simplest spice blend from my childhood, as a way to connect memory, aroma, and home.
Each moved from paper to plate, from theory to taste.
But before I could create, I had to unlearn about food, about India, about myself. I let go of perfection and leaned into truth.
I didn't do any of this alone. Thirteen classmates taught me, challenged me, and laughed with me. Our togetherness took shape in kitchens, in late-night talks, in broken Italian, and in the quiet rhythm of shared work.

And now, it's your turn because this story isn't just mine.
You are now part of this circle.
So what is The Community Thali?
It's a box.

Inside: One plate | One ingredient | One handwritten letter | One instruction card.

One person begins. They cook a dish using the ingredient, plate it on the thali, and share the recipe, memory, and meaning. They document it, then choose the next person, maybe a friend they've been meaning to connect with, maybe a stranger they admire in the food world, maybe someone they believe should be part of this circle.
The thali travels from hand to hand, home to home, country to country, weaving together a living archive of dishes and dreams.
This project is a concept to showcase that every dish belongs, every flavor matters, and the whole is always greater than the sum of its parts. My thali is a reminder that our food stories, like our plates, are more abundant when shared.
This isn't just a plate.

It's a movement.
A conversation.
A soft rebellion.

From my table in Italy, to yours, wherever you are.