Padma Lakshmi


Born
in Chennai, India
September 01, 1970

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Padma Lakshmi is the Emmy-nominated host of the highly rated and critically acclaimed, Emmy-winning Bravo seriesTop Chef, and the author of three cookbooks and food titles: the award-winning Easy Exotic; Tangy, Tart, Hot & Sweet; and the Enclyclopedia of Spices and Herbs. In addition to her culinary achievements, Lakshmi has contributed to such magazines as Vogue, Gourmet, and Harper's Bazaar (UK and US), and penned a syndicated column on fashion and food for the New York Times. Her television-hosting credits include Planet Food and Padma's Passport, as well as other programs in the United States and abroad. A global style icon and the first internationally successful Indian supermodel, Lakshmi also helms companies of her own such as th ...more

Average rating: 3.56 · 7,551 ratings · 939 reviews · 8 distinct worksSimilar authors
Love, Loss, and What We Ate...

3.49 avg rating — 6,473 ratings — published 2013 — 9 editions
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Tangy Tart Hot and Sweet: A...

3.82 avg rating — 194 ratings — published 2007 — 3 editions
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The Encyclopedia of Spices ...

3.95 avg rating — 93 ratings3 editions
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Easy Exotic: A Model's Low-...

3.27 avg rating — 41 ratings — published 1999 — 2 editions
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Indian-ish: Recipes and Ant...

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4.22 avg rating — 334 ratings3 editions
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The Doctor Will See You Now...

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4.26 avg rating — 285 ratings — published 2016 — 4 editions
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Top Chef: The Quickfire Coo...

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3.70 avg rating — 195 ratings — published 2009 — 3 editions
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American Like Me: Reflectio...

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4.35 avg rating — 3,015 ratings — published 2018 — 12 editions
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“In the morning stillness, when the world is just waking up and your conscious mind hasn't fully taken over, you may feel a connection or passageway to another world, and a feeling that something is about to happen in yours. It's like a quiet storm is coming. You can feel the distant rumble of thunder on the horizon, yet you have no idea of the deluge your life is about to experience.”
Padma Lakshmi, Love, Loss, and What We Ate: A Memoir

“In the car inching its way down Fifth Avenue, toward Bergdorf Goodman and this glamorous party, I looked back on my past with a new understanding. This sickness, the “endo-whatever,” had stained so much—my sense of self, my womanhood, my marriage, my ability to be present. I had effectively missed one week of each month every year of my life since I was thirteen, because of the chronic pain and hormonal fluctuations I suffered during my period. I had lain in bed, with heating pads and hot-water bottles, using acupuncture, drinking teas, taking various pain medications and suffering the collateral effects of them. I thought of all the many tests I missed in various classes throughout my education, the school dances, the jobs I knew I couldn’t take as a model, because of the bleeding and bloating as well as the pain (especially the bathing suit and lingerie shoots, which paid the most). How many family occasions was I absent from? How many second or third dates did I not go on? How many times had I not been able to be there for others or for myself? How many of my reactions to stress or emotional strife had been colored through the lens of chronic pain? My sense of self was defined by this handicap. The impediment of expected pain would shackle my days and any plans I made.

I did not see my own womanhood as something positive or to be celebrated, but as a curse that I had to constantly make room for and muddle through. Like the scar on my arm, my reproductive system was a liability. The disease, developing part and parcel with my womanhood starting at puberty with my menses, affected my own self-esteem and the way I felt about my body. No one likes to get her period, but when your femininity carries with it such pain and consistent physical and emotional strife, it’s hard not to feel that your body is betraying you. The very relationship you have with yourself and your person is tainted by these ever-present problems. I now finally knew my struggles were due to this condition. I wasn’t high-strung or fickle and I wasn’t overreacting.”
Padma Lakshmi, Love, Loss, and What We Ate: A Memoir

“And so I was left with a mantra, a sort of haiku version of our relationship: I don’t regret one day I spent with him, nor did I leave a moment too soon.”
Padma Lakshmi, Love, Loss, and What We Ate: A Memoir



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