The first time I met Sravanya Pittie, she did what great hosts, great homemakers, and great visionaries always do: she fed me. Not merely with food, but with feeling, not only with a meal, but with meaning. In kansa bowls—the ancient alloy of copper and tin praised by Ayurveda for soothing the stomach and sharpening the spirit—she served a spread of South Indian soul. Idlis as soft as monsoon clouds, sambhar alive with tamarind’s tang, rasam fiery as a whispered secret, and payasam so silken it seemed spun from memory itself. Everything gleamed in kansa, that quiet metal with centuries of memory folded into its grain. Each dish became more than nourishment: it became narrative. That afternoon was my initiation into Sokka, her tableware brand, which is less a company than a conversation, le

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