When 27-year-old Hetal Vasavada was faced with a rice challenge on MasterChef Season 6 , she knew exactly what to do. Everyones panicking, like, I dont know what to make. But all I could think about was khichdi, she says with a laugh.

Vasavada intimately knows the power of good khichdi . When she was a child, her grandmother would feed her heaping spoonfuls of the South Asian staple made from rice and lentils with a crap-ton of ghee, of course. She and her family also attended khichdi parties, where other families proudly shared batches of their generational recipes with one another. And despite going through a period where she simply had enough of the hearty comfort food, she found herself seeking it out again when she left home for college, and throughout the years after. It ultimately became a career-defining tool for her, emerging as one of the best dishes in that round of MasterChef.

Of course, the shows pantry was not the haven of Indian spices found at her parents. So Vasavada made do with what she had: green lentils instead of mung beans and roasted almonds instead of cashews to top the dish. I mean, that is the essence of khichdi its whatever you have on hand. The dish impressed judges Gordon Ramsay, Graham Elliot and Christina Tosi, but everyone else seemed to be rather agitated.

I got shitted on by both sides: by Indians, for not making everything authentic ... I mean, I was just working with my constraints, she says, of the comments she received online. Then Americans were like, You cant be MasterChef because all you do is cook Indian food.

Vasadava has written a bestselling cookbook and her food blog @milkandcardamom , an amalgam of unique Indian fusion recipes, has a huge and dedicated following. But her experience is far too familiar to many among the diaspora, who often get told theyre neither American nor South Asian enough.

I can relate. As a child of Indian immigrants who delicately balanced assimilation with cultural preservation, I struggled with my Hindi. I understood it perfectly, but my American-accented and broken Hinglish responses inspired sympathy chuckles from more fluent speakers. I could dance, but not with the same instinct and flair as Madhuri Dixit, Aishwarya Rai or my friends who were born with The Gift. South Asian friends in high school and college took me to garbas , dressed up with me for Diwali parties, and threw colored powder at me during Holi but I couldnt ignore the uneasiness that begged the question, are you Indian enough to be here?

In my early 20s, Ive been reflecting on that question more. And, like so many other quandaries, it led me to TikTok and Instagram.