NEVER TOO MUCH ON MY PLATE is not a cookbook. It’s a confession.

In this deliciously irreverent collection of essays, Ramona Sen, self-proclaimed die-hard foodie and professional eater, maps her life through what she has chewed, slurped, smuggled and stress-eaten across Kolkata, Delhi and Mumbai. From green peppermints off a candyman’s tray to butter naan at midnight, from Dimma’s kosha mangsho to Delhi’s kadhi chawal epiphanies, from grilled fish obsessions inherited from her father to raclette revelations in Paris — every bite comes with a story.

There are no recipes here, unless you count instructions on how to pair sorrow with sushi, or how to measure adulthood in fried eggs with runny yolks. Ramona tackles culinary traditions, food fads and the politics of home food with equal gusto, taking us from Bengali mishti wars and the eternal superiority of Lyangda over Alphonso, to epicurean discoveries through a lifetime of not just eating, but also talking and dreaming, food.

And when you think you have had your fill, she serves up Potluck, a companion novella where food becomes both battleground and binding agent. An eccentric will demands that restaurateur Aabir Mookerjee open an eatery devoted to the humble khichudi, while his chronically late co-heir Sakshi must find gainful employment before they can inherit a rambling old house. Add a disgruntled rival claimant, a weight-loss diktat, a scheming chef, an indifferent cat, one Horrible Dog, and a sharp-eyed grandmotherly ghost on a coconut tree, and you have a feast of camaraderie, chaos and comfort.

Structured like a menu—complete with appetisers, main course and digestif—this book is for anyone who believes there is, quite simply, never too much on one’s plate.