Moving between Canada, Singapore, India, and the United States multiple times over the course of my childhood means I’ve never quite identified one place as “home.” Instead, I find the comfort of home through the various flavors and dishes of my childhood. One of these dishes lies in a clay pot brimming with spiced rice and meat, sealed with plain dough, which, when sliced open, releases steady puffs of steam that make my mouth water instantly. I’m talking about biryani.