porotta
My grandmother's hands shaped porotta like poetry, each layer whispering stories of our heritage. Years later, I filmed her technique for andal.io, never expecting it would resonate so deeply. Kannadasan once wrote about food as memory, and watching strangers connect with our family recipe felt sacred. The platform's modest payments helped, but something greater emerged. Comments poured in from people rediscovering their own traditions through our screens. Someone mentioned making it for their estranged parent. Another found their grandmother's lost method in the comments. What began as sharing breakfast became a quiet revolution—reclaiming our narratives, honoring ancestors through digital threads, building community one video at a time.
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