Meher Dasondi : From Kitchen Dreams to Pioneering Food Bank Initiatives in India

It all began in your mother’s kitchen – how did cooking for her shape your relationship with food and the idea of care through what we cook?

I think it started out of love – and a bit of necessity. My mother was a working woman, and I used to watch her rush between home and office, always juggling a dozen things. One day, I decided to surprise her by cooking dinner. I can still remember the nervous excitement, the smells from the kitchen, and how her face lit up when she tasted the food. That moment stayed with me. It made me realise that food isn’t just about eating – it’s about caring, nurturing, and creating moments of comfort. That simple act of cooking for my mother was the seed that shaped everything that came later. In hindsight, it was my earliest act of cooking for purpose.

When did you realise that cooking wasn’t just something you enjoyed, but something you wanted to dedicate your life to?

Even as a child, I knew I wanted to cook. But not in the glamorous “chef” sense we think of today – back then, it was just this quiet certainty that food was my way of expressing myself. I would spend hours experimenting, trying to recreate dishes, adding my own twist. The kitchen became my safe space. The more I cooked, the more I realised this wasn’t just a hobby. It gave me a sense of purpose, and I knew this was what I wanted to build my life around.  That instinct, though I didn’t know it then, was probably shaped by a calling for cooking for purpose.

You moved to Mumbai as a family due to your father’s transfer, and soon after, stepped into formal culinary training. How did that experience shape your early ambitions?

Moving to Mumbai as a family opened up doors I didn’t even know existed. I joined the professional course in Hotel Administration and Food Technology (HAFT) at Sophia Polytechnic, and it completely changed the way I saw food. The precision, the discipline, the rush of a professional kitchen – it was exhilarating. When I was shortlisted for the kitchens of two leading five-star hotels, it felt like I was standing on the brink of something life-changing. But life, as I’ve learned, doesn’t always follow a recipe. A setback redirected my path, and I realised that passion doesn’t fade just because the setting changes. Cooking, in any form, was still my calling — and that belief kept me moving forward, manifesting in new expressions of cooking for purpose, from teaching to feeding the underserved.

After that unexpected setback, how did you navigate your next steps? What led you back to the world of food?

That was a difficult time. I had to pause, reflect, and decide what came next. But food always had a way of finding me again. I joined The Ratan Tata Institute (RTI) and went on to head my department subsequently.

Along with two colleagues, we started a catering company and began catering at a leading club – and it reignited everything I loved about the profession. It wasn’t just about cooking anymore; it was about leading a team, managing large-scale events, and creating shared experiences. It helped me rebuild my confidence and reminded me that the detours often lead to unexpected destinations. Creating moments of joy for others became a different kind of cooking for purpose — one I hadn’t experienced before.

Your journey also includes a long and impactful teaching career. How did your years in the classroom shape your relationship with food and purpose?

Teaching came into my life when I least expected it. What began as a temporary shift soon became a defining chapter. I joined HAFT at Sophia Polytechnic as a lecturer, and as I started working with students, I found immense joy in their curiosity. Watching them experiment, make mistakes, and grow reminded me of my own beginnings. Over time, I headed the HAFT department – and that role gave me something I hadn’t felt in a while: the satisfaction of giving back. It taught me that food isn’t just meant to be served; cooking for purpose also meant sharing my knowledge.

After catering, and two decades in academics, you stepped into entrepreneurship with your own restaurant. What did that chapter teach you about passion, risk, and resilience?

After years of teaching, I felt ready for a new challenge. By then, I was married, and my husband and I shared a dream of opening our own restaurant. We put everything into it — time, savings, heart. When it opened, it felt like the culmination of everything I had worked for. But within a year, we had to shut it down due to mounting losses. It was heartbreaking. We had to sell our apartment and clear our debts.

There’s a silence that follows that kind of loss – a heavy, reflective pause – but it also became my space to rediscover strength. Failure didn’t end my love for food; it reshaped it. It taught me that passion isn’t fragile – it bends, it survives, it finds its way back. Now, my cooking for purpose simply needed another avenue.