After ages, I felt like myself in the kitchen yesterday. That is to say, like a baking obsessed maniac. Cooking up a storm for no rhyme or reason, with no mouths to feed. A massive cinnamon and cardamom wreath, an absolutely fantastic lunch of noodles with mango and aubergines with an abundance of herbs (which I must share just cos it was so so good), and a creamy meaty gravy with what I hoped would be tender, flaky biscuits that heartbreakingly turned out to be flat, slightly bitter slabs of sorrow. And last night, in my zeal and determination to give myself and the world a delicious, easy, true 100 percent whole wheat recipe, I found the night turn into morning in a whirl of time-lapse as my brain and laptop kept ticking. Read more
Posts from the ‘Dessert’ Category
So after aaages, I’ve started baking again. And for all my intolerances, one thing is clear. Not much makes me as bone deep, soul warmingly happy as making a delicious dessert does. Not even eating it. I’ve missed baking far too much.
It’s time to start again. And the trick perhaps is, that I don’t need to eat it myself, just find mouths to feed?
This confection inspired by one of the recipes in food52, made of layers of rich coffee flavoured cake and cinnamon meringue that sandwich some amazingly luxurious pastry cream was an exciting return to my oven.
All in all, I thought the dessert was a splendid idea but I confess I feel the cake layer were not exactly what I wanted. To do justice to the medley of beautiful flavours, the crackly, crunchy, nutty-sweet cinnamon layer of meringue and the silky banana-ey custard, the cake needs to either be lighter or crunchier. So that’s the plan for the next trial. And if all goes well, I know this will be one of the unusual, stunning desserts I’ve made. And perhaps one day, you can order it from Bombay Chowparty?
I’ve been on a meringue phase oflate. It’s this recipe from Smitten Kitchen that set me off. The cookies are absolutely unlike others I have ever eaten and if you can get hold of hazelnuts to replace the walnuts, I tell you they maybe one of the best cookies in the world. But the best part was that these cookies made me get past my one previous experience with meringues and realise that the magical foam of just egg white and sugar lends itself to an amazing variety of desserts but .
Do you remember the first time that you heard of ‘hot chocolate’? I do. It was in an obscure restaurant in Muradabad where my dad was posted. I was about 8 and mom, didi (elder sister) and I were visiting my dad during Diwali. I was excited about getting a much longed for glimpse of the world (and food) outside the protective circle of home and family. So when we went out for a meal to a local restaurant in Muradabad, I almost died of excitement when I discovered the words ‘hot chocolate’ on the menu. I bet atleast some of you have had this moment – of hearing the worlds HOT CHOCOLATE and then logically visualising gooey, rich, thick, dark chocolate as a hot luscious drink. It’s what any sane kid would do, right? A dark brown river of joy.. all my favourite books, toys and tv shows rolled into one and much much more. A prodigal moment even. A heralder of all the good things that growing up and consequently the freedom to eat out would mean. Read more
I HATE plum cakes. Growing up as a Catholic means that I was brought up on the ritual of family baking during christmas, churning out masses and masses of cake. The house would fill with the baking aroma for days, starting with parents soaking jars and jars of fruits in rum, dad cracking dozens of eggs into a pail, mum caramelising the sugar over the hot stove in Delhi winters, and the best part – having the house to ourselves when the parents were away at the bakery -to come back hours later with endless kilos of plum cakes. Maybe it’s that I hated was having to go to tens of neighbours houses with plates of plum cakes. Or maybe its that the typical christmas cakes with their spicey-sour-fruityness are not my thing – atleast on anyday other than the day they were baked. As plum cakes go, I attest that my mums were the very best. It’s that plums cakes are just not my thing. Read more