Growing up, I remember that my parents always made sure we ate at the table. Together. At least one meal and it was usually dinner. I didn’t really pay much importance to it till I grew up and moved on and out of home.  Now that I look back, I really appreciate that we all got together at the dining table every evening. It might not have been deep conversations all the time, but just the act of gathering at the table was something we followed pretty much every night. As was tradition, mom would cook, and the three of us would eat! I do remember trying to learn some culinary skills at a young age, more specifically baking, but for some reason my mom did always insist on taking charge of the kitchen and never really taught us how to cook. My sister, however, did go on to become a chef during the early phase of her grown up life, but that’s a whole different story.   As I moved on in life, I crossed …