A Bowl Full of Memories — My Mom’s Chivda

Every weekend, as the aroma of roasted poha and sizzling spices fills my kitchen, I’m transported back to my childhood home. Chivda isn’t just a snack for me — it’s a tradition, a memory, and a little piece of my mom that lives on in every crunchy bite.

The Memory Behind the Recipe
Growing up, I’d watch my mom move gracefully around the kitchen, her bangles jingling softly as she stirred the pan. She never measured the ingredients — a handful of peanuts, a pinch of salt, a dash of turmeric — yet her Chivda always tasted perfect. She said, “The secret is in the love you roast it with.”
Those words stayed with me. Even now, when I make Chivda every weekend, I feel her presence beside me — guiding my hands, reminding me to smile while I cook.

The Weekend Ritual
Saturday mornings have their own rhythm. I start by roasting the poha until it turns crisp and light. Then come the golden peanuts, the crackling mustard seeds, the whisper of curry leaves, and finally that tangy twist of lemon and spice that wakes up the senses.
The kitchen fills with warmth and anticipation. The first batch always disappears before it even cools down — I still nibble at it just like I did as a kid.

What Chivda Means to Me Today
For me, Chivda is more than just a snack. It’s comfort during busy weeks, a reminder of home, and a way to keep my mom’s love alive. Every bite tells a story — of laughter, of togetherness, of simple joy shared over tea and conversation.

Ask for the Recipe
If you’ve never made Chivda before, try it one weekend. Don’t worry about perfecting it — just enjoy the process. Maybe you’ll find, like I did, that the real recipe isn’t written in any cookbook. It’s written in your memories, your hands, and your heart.

I have tried numerous recipes of Chivda but nothing can beat my mom’s recipe.

Thank you my dear readers for stopping by

Stay Happy & Keep Smiling