It started with one steel dabba.
Mom's Kitchen began the way most good things in a Gujarati home do — with a recipe no one wrote down. Raw bananas sliced paper-thin over bubbling coconut oil, a fistful of rock salt, coarse black pepper cracked by hand.
"If I wouldn't feed it to my own kids, it doesn't leave my kitchen."
Today we still fry in small batches, season by taste, and pack the same day. No preservatives, no palm oil, no middlemen — just wafers that taste like someone made them for you.