
Our story
It began with Amma, Nana and one clay jar
Every summer, Nana would bring home crates of raw mango and Amma would spend the afternoon grinding mustard on the stone. The terrace filled with jars, and neighbours came with their own bowls before the season ended.
Amma Nana Pickles is that same terrace, just a little bigger. The masala is still ground in stone, the oil is still wood-pressed, and every jar is still tasted before it is sealed.
“True taste of homemade — nothing less.”
