Kiwi Pana

The Art of Giving

We completed five years of marriage last month. It was marked by (as usual) lots of gifts from my side and the now standard flowers/chocolate/ card trio from AS. In the first year I would have been devastated without a personalised thought-over gift. But five years teach you that there are many different ways of expressing love than surprise gifts of spa treatments or a romantic getaway to an unknown place.

Sharing gifts is a pleasure for me. In buying them, the amount of time and thought given to any gift is directly proportional to my sentiments for the person. I am dead against cash/gift vouchers and yes, you guessed it flowers and chocolates :-). I love the planning and the hunt, culminating in a look of delight on the face of the receiver. 

I love getting gifts as well. Who doesn’t?. After every birthday party during childhood, all the family would gather in the biggest room in the home and the each gift will be carefully unwrapped and passed around. We also used to fold and keep the wrapping papers for reuse , so the unwrapping was done almost with a surgical precision. Papa was a master at that, he would snip and slide the scissors and make sure the paper came out unscathed and looked as innocent as slight fold marks allow it to be. Then there was the rule about sharing, unwilling as I or my brother might be. All chocolates were coveted items and we would try to fight tooth and nail over them, but there was only so much one could fight in front of papa. One stare and the good Samaritan in us would come out and share everything in halves.

I never remember my parents giving me a big gift for birthdays. It was simply not part of the celebrations. A new dress, party and maybe a tenner or twenty rupee note from Thammi (my granny), but no specific gifts. If I needed a cycle it would be bought when needed not just because it was my birthday. One thing was allowed. A new book on every birthday. A special outing would be planned to the New Market (still called the same in bhopal) and I would be taken to the Variety Book Store and allowed to meander around the shelves. It was one of my favourite places to be. The smell of new books, staid bindings and the sheer number of volumes. Recently I went to Bahrisons bookshop in Khan Market, New Delhi and it was a wonderful experience. Books stacked wall to wall seemingly without any coherence and co-ordination. But if you asked the people working there for a particular title, they would look up with an expression similar to Mr Olivander searching for Harry’s wand, and somehow conjure the book out of the clutter. Variety book store was probably not on that scale but for a six-seven year old it was a treasure trove. I agonised over my decision to follow the famous five over smuggler’s top or be part of the Three investigators puzzle solving for screaming clock. I learned to trust my instincts after reading the blurb. In hindsight, more than dollhouses, gadgets and gizmos, my parents gave my the best gift of all. The gift of reading.

With all this tradition of communal gift opening, the same followed after my wedding.Among all the milton casseroles, silk sarees and assorted show pieces someone had the foresight to gift me a book by Sanjeev Kapoor- no oil cooking, It was my first recipe book. It was probably the only gift I picked to carry with me on the maiden voyage across the seas to the Blighty. There must have been a premonition somewhere within me that food was going to consume a big slice of my thoughts and actions. The first couple of months I tried cooking from the book. But cooking with no oil when you have not cooked at all is not the best beginning  AS was so traumatised by the experience that the book went missing all of a sudden. In the house move this year, it turned up. Probably it was Ma’s diligence during packing. It was put together in the box for books and I found it sitting prettily among the now expanding section for recipe books. A thin white space between gordon ramsay’s indian adventure and the highly ambitious buy for bread making. It was only last week I took it down. I could easily see which recipes I had worked on. There were smudges of tumeric and crinkles where condensation had dropped on the pages. I now feel a renewed vigour to try these out. I might not go absolutely by the recipe and use some oil here and there. The first one I tried did not however need any oil at all.

We were having a pot lunch at home and with the easy options of noodles and palak panner completed, I felt like trying something new. I did not want to imbalance the pot lunch by making another additional item, so I opted for a drink. The very first recipe in the book was Kiwi panna. Now I love aam panna. It was a saviour during the scorching summers in madhya pradesh.  But raw mango need a special trip to indian store, where it is not always available. Kiwi on the other hand is easily available and totally neglected by me till now. A quick trip to the nearby grocery store and armed with 3 kiwis I embarked on the first homemade drink experiment. It turned out very well, the texture and taste was almost same as aam panna. The back seeds gave it a nice look as well. Because it required some time in oven and some more on the mixer, it felt a low effort thing.

The recipe is more or less what was written in the book. I have mentioned where I have deviated from it.

Ingredients

• 8 Kiwis
• Fresh mint leaves a few sprigs
• Fresh coriander leaves a few sprigs (I did not use)
• Cumin seeds 1/2 teaspoon
• Ginger 1 inch piece
• 5 Black peppercorns 
• Sugar and salt to taste
• Pinch of black salt
• Lemon juice 1 tablespoon

• Roast kiwis in an oven till they are soft.
• Cool, peel off skin and make a pulp by hand.
• Clean and wash mint and coriander leaves. Roast cumin seeds.Peel and wash ginger.
• Grind mint, coriander, cumin seeds, ginger and peppercorns to a smooth paste.
• Blend kiwi pulp with sugar, salt, black salt and lemon juice.Stir in mint-coriander paste and strain.Add water as required and keep in refrigerator. Serve chilled

It took my oven 15-20 mins at 180C  to cook the . I left them them too long in the oven the first time and the juices caramalised. So keep checking them every 10 mins.Also I blended the spice and pulp mix together to save time.

Koraishutir Kochuri (Puris stuffed with peas)

Always a bride never the bridesmaid

Recently, I was watching the movie 27 dresses. I know it is an old movie. I am way behind on the hollywood and bollywood listings. The only time there is a massive update to the list is on my trips to india. In the age of 50inch tvs and multiplexes, majority of my movie watching experience is a 10inch screen in a pressurised cabin 30000 feet in air. I end up watching about 3 sometimes 4 time,technology and eyesight permitting. I decided make my veiwing experience better and enrolled in an online streaming website. Even with my faltering Virgin active (that was one failed branding exercise!!) braodband..the website worked! I had to watch some five hours worth of content to allow me a month’s free trial.So I diligently set about doing just that. Selected romance and more so chick flicks (did you know this is a bonafied category of its own) and set about watching one every day. What I came to realise was, I may have gained years, muffin waist and a few grey hairs, but I had certainly not lost the heart of a 16 year old. I can still get misty eyed at a common girl being courted by a prince, swoon over Mr Darcy and Mr Rochester and sigh over the ball gowns and dresses. The 27 dresses in the movie were hedious..a sort of allegory to the unplesant aspect of being

a bridesmaid one time too often. It must so tiresome. Times of India called Rahul Dravid ‘always a bridesmaid ..never the bride’. It was on some tour probably australian, where his test hundreds where trumphed by Sachin’s or ganguly’s. I am pitiful at cricket stats.

But I digress..i actually started with a digression (is there such a word??).

I was actually eating matar paneer while watching this, and I thought..have I ever eaten any item where matar (peas) was the bride not the bridesmaid. What I mean is where it is not aloo matar, matar paneer, methi matar malai...anything where the peas held their own and did not play second fiddle to the aloos, paneers and other veggies.

Try this for yourself. I could come up with two things only. Koraishutir kochuri and nimona. Nimona is a sort of curry made from fresh peas. I had a few times during my hostel days and I could not recall how it tasted. But koraishutir Kochuri...now there was something which got the tastebuds tingling. Koraishuti is essentially what bengalis call peas. Google failed me, when I tried to find out why such a big name for a small item?

Kochuri is any fluffed stuffed fried bread. So we are talking about a fulffed, stuffed fried bread filled with peas. Sounds like a rattle :-) ..yet is is awesum. One of the things you should have if you feel like indulging. On my bi-annual home visits during graduation this was an item which topped the to-eat list. Ma made it at least twice if not more. I loved it best with very (and I mean very) garlicky coriander chutney. Just coriander/garlic/ green chillies and lime juice with salt. Yummmm. It saved ma time to cook an accompanying veggie so I would get dollops of this chutney. The kochuris are not big ones. Broken in half they can consumed in two mouthfuls each. I would use it to enclose a big portion of Chatni and savour the taste. I am very good at chewing my morsels and I think I do it because of this fascination for food. I probably want to taste and savour the components before it goes down the pit of my stomach.

But those were the days when one did not think about the cosnequences of refined flour, deep frying or binge eating. I had not forgotten this kochuri and did try to make it on my own a couple of times. But the result was a FLAT bread with stuffing dislodged and leaking oil. I lost patience on my third attempt and ended up eating the stuffing as side dish and using the dough for making nimkis(which did not turn out well because of the wrong amount of moyan-crispiness)

So when ma was visting this time, I put this high on her to-cook list with an additional note that it should be cooked on a weekend to allow proper knowledge transfer.

She had a trick up her sleeve, the way that all mothers do. It was sprinkling of roasted and then grounded fennel,pepper and ajwain. It changed the equations of the taste from linear to quadratic.

 Another trick that I learnt was not to be greedy and stuff a lot of peas mixture, It has to be just the a  teaspoonful at a time. Also when rolling out the kochuri use a little bit of oil to avoid them sticking on the rolling pin.

All in all it turned out quiet a feast. With the pungency of garlic in the chutney vying for attention against the strong flavour of hing, it is a dance drama in every muthful.

One very good thing is that you can do the preparation on large scale and then store away the mixture and the dough in fridge. It can cherished over 2-3 days.

Here goes the recipe then.

Ingredients

For the Peas Mix

2 cups of peas (I blitz the frozen ones with some water in the microwave)

½ tsp asoeftida (hing)

3 green chillies

For Roasted powder

½ tsp cumin seeds

½ tsp fennel seeds (saunf)

½ tsp ajwain

2-3 pods of whole black pepper

salt to taste (for the filling)

For dough

3 cups of white flour (Maida)

3 tbsp of any oil

¼  tsp of salt

Oil for frying

Add the salt and oil to the flour and crunch it in hour hands to ensure the oil is spread throughout the flour. Add enough (a whole thesis can be written on the amount of water required for dough!!) luke warm water and make this into a dough. Cover with a damp cloth and let it rest while you get on with the preparation for the mix.

Add the defrosted peas with the green chillies into a food processor. If you do not have a food processor...you are joking right? Who does not have one in these days?..well I did not...till a year ago. The workaround is to crush the peas with something, a small bowl, the pestel mortar...although you will not get the smooth blend we are looking for. Whatever you use, do not add any water. The only water should come from the peas. Mix the peas with green chillies.

In a broad utensil add the oil and when it is warm add the asafoetida. Quickly spoon the mix into this. Now comes the patience part. You have to stir the mixture every now and then, depending on how good is the pan( which calims to be non-stick is). Slowly the moisture in the mix will vapourise and the mix will turn from a fresh green colour to a darker shade. On a medium flame it took me 15 minutes for this quantity of paste. If you are making more, then it would proportionally increase.

Once the mositure is all gone, you can add the salt and grounded powder (metioned in the ingredients- they should be lightly roasted and then ground to a fine powder.

If you need to adjust the hot quotient, add chilli powder at this stage.

Let the mixture cool.

Add enough oil in a deep frying vessel to at least cover one kochuri at a time. Let it heat up before you start rolling out the kochuris.

Divide the dough into calls the size of rasogulla, or lemons (the size we get in india). Slightly roll them out to flatten them and make into disks the size of 3cm dia. Spoon in little of the mixture, about ½  teaspoon into the middle and close the edges. Make sure nothing is coming out of the joint. Slightly massage it in your hands to spread the mix. Start rolling it out now, with a very light hand so the misture is not pushed out with vengence. Add a touch of oil if the dough starts sticking to the rolling pin. The 3cm dia should at least go upto 6cm. You know it is not rolled out properly if you can feel the dough thick at places.  And you know you should leave it alone, if you start seeing the greenish tinge appearing below the dough layer...because that means the mix might come out. The first one will never puff up. Call it what you will, but it is similar to my ‘Laws of Dosa’ (another day about this- but in nutshell the first dosa will always stick to the tava). But preserve and learn and you will be rewarded

Do not overcook it, take the kochuris out of the oil as soon as you see bubbles on the surface of the it.

Well that is all there is to it, as Forrest Gump said. Easy said than done!

Kabuliwala & Aalo Kabli (Potato Chaat)

“Kabuliwala, O kabuliwala, tomar jholae ki ache? (what is in your bag)”, asked Mini

“ ete to ekta hathi ache (there is an elephant in here)”, replied the kabuliwala with a smile.

Kabuliwala, is a short story by Rabindranth Thakur. Written in a simple language it was my introudction to the vast world of Rabindranath Thakur’s literature.  Aptly it was narrated by my father, because it is the story of a father more than a little girl. Mini is the small girl who befriends a kabuliwala (Rehmat) selling his dry fuits in the lanes of Calcutta. Sometime later Rehmat is arrested on charge of attacking a debtor and is sent to jail. The day he is released,  Mini is getting married. I would not be a spoil sport by revealing all of it. Although it is not a particularly sad story, it felt sad to me. There are not many kids of my generation who can claim to have bedtime stories from their father.But I have had the pleasure.

Used to the five day week syndrome of the 21^st century, after a six day week, I would not have the energy to even stammer. My father used the Sunday afternoons to read to us from nonte phonte, batul de great, abol tabol, stories from sukhtara and sometimes from his memories. He would doze off in between and start talking something about work. I thought it really funny and would relate that everyone in house who would listen how Baba started talking about a big tree girth and bessel area in midst of a ghost story.

Kabuliwala was shared on one such afternoon. While he dozed off I stayed awake thinking not about the girl but kabuliwala. How lonely he must be in a different country away from all whom he loved, learning new language, learning new practices, all because he had to earn money to support his family. It is not fair to compare him and me. I am comfortably off with a much loving husband(inspite of my efforts to test his patience) living a good life in a foreign land,  but in the heart of the matter lies distances. When life trudges along in its routine, there is nothing much, but on odd occasions one feels a sudden yearning to be back and within easy reach of what has been home for 25 years of existence. It is also an yearning for the quiet afternoons spent listening to stories with Baba’s arm for a pillow. And also for the innocence which allowed feelings of tenderness. In my bid to be strong there seems to be a loss of the appreciation of  feelings.

Much much later I saw the movie made in hindi by Bimal roy and bengali by Tapan Sinha. Balraj Sahni’s potrayal was heart wrenching, so was the song ‘ae mere pyare watan’ by manna dey.

I always thought of this story kabuliwala when I heard the word kabuli channa. Don’t ask why. In the weird way that mind works, I seem to have a look-up created against these two words in my database. This post was written in two parts, one was my diary entry and the other I was writing up for the blog. It does seem all right to combine them together, because in my mind they are connected together

Snacks are a headache. I cannot afford at best of times putting in an hour’s effort for  something which is a filler item. Also when you feel like eating snacks you want it with immediate effect.  How to conjure up something in 10-15 min? I feel the need of a wand, accompanied by a spell, similar to those from Harry Potter.  Point at the stove and mutter abracadabra and voila! There is lovely snack sitting on the stove. But however much I search for Diagon alley and platform 9^3/4 in London, they have not condescended to reveal themselves to a muggle.

So till the time I get a wand of my own I make do with small tricks. One cardinal rule I have 

decided to follow for snacks is, try not to use the gas/stove. Microwave and grillers are exempted from this. Once I put a pan on the gas, I end up spending at least 20-30 mins on it. Not worth it as I already mentioned. If we have muri (puffed rice) then there is nothing better than a jhalmuri. Then yesterday I recalled Aloo Kabli. This was not a frequent snack item in my childhood but its teasing taste had placed itself in a corner of my mind. A couple of years back when I went to a restaurant called Oh Calcutta! in Bombay they served this as a nibbler while we were waiting for the sumptuous bangali feast. A sudden hunger pang at 4pm Sunday evening triggered my forefathers instinct and I started foraging in my cupboards and fridge. I was rewarded with a tin of chick peas (yes it is not kabuli channa..you cannot be so fastidious) hiding behind the neglected food supplements bottles. I dragged it out and started thinking. That is when the memory of aloo kabli shone out in bright neon lights.

It is a medley of salty and citrus flavours. Things that make it different is the crunchiness of the onion, flakiness of the boiled potato and fragrance of the coriander expertly held together by the juices of the tomatoes. Here goes the recipe...

Ingredients

3 medium bolied potato

1 large or 2 small tomatoes

1 medium onion

1 cup kabuli channa , boiled  (or use tinned chick peas)

Coriander – 2 tbsp

Chaat Masala – ½ tbsp

Lemon juice

Red chilli Powder

Salt

Quickest way to boil the potato is to put them a refrigerator bag and microwave for 5-6 mins. Let it stay for a couple of mins and then take out and remove the skins. The baking variety of the potato works best. But any will do.

Dice the boiled potato, tomato and onion into square sizes. We don’t want the potato to lose its identity and that is the reason to keep it big enough. Add the boiled kabuli channa to this. I have to confess here that when the fancy strikes to have aaloo kabli, I more than often resort to the tinned variety. I know it is not good for digestion, but try telling that after you have the first spoonful.Last time we had it, we added another word to our limited medical vocabulary..epigastric region pains. To be fair the blame should be shared by haldiram samosa, cheesy garlic bread, skipped lunch. So if you want to play safe and still want the fun...be patient, soak a cup of channa overnight and then boil them. You might even be like me on those odd weeks when healthy eating takes my fancy and the fridge is filled up with all sorts of sprouts. Mine rot away after the first couple days of zeal. On an extreme you can skip the kabuli channa altogether. Potato/tomato and onion is a star combination anyways.

So then, after this discourse on channa, mix all the items together in a bowl. Add the coriander leaves, chaat masala, salt, lemon juice and red chilli powder as per you taste. Give it a good toss. If you allow it to stay for about 10 mins the juices really become great and you can lick your bowl clean.

Duronto Ghugni (Fast Paced White Peas)

A long break from blogging. Not that anyone missed me, but the narcissict part of me did. Life changing events and adjustment to loss of loved ones takes some time getting used to. But time is a great healer..we just need to give it time. I hereby resolve in presence of my laptop, the telly and my phone (these being my connection to the real world) that I would post at least one recipe a month. I don’t commit a lot. I was always the one for setting a small target and overachieving J Never liked the concept of setting a stretch goal…what if I don’t make it.

Today is a good day to start as I have achieved one such goal. I completed 5 kms walk in the event called ‘ Race for Life’ organized by Cancer Research UK. It was a great event. In the restrained emotions of the british society it was nice to read lines like ‘I race for life of the Grandad I never met’, ‘I race for life of What Could have been’,  ‘_all those who are fighting’ and the one that encompassed the spirit of the day ‘ I race for life for A CURE’.

The success of the event was followed by a sumptuous pub lunch where we devoured no less than 10 different tapas items among four of us.

Back home, I did the mistake of measuring up myself on the scales…foolish foolish impulse…did I think 5kms of sedate walking would set off the patatas bravas and deep fried (chicken prawn, mushroom..almost anything).  I could not even think of a normal Sunday dinner. Strange how often I feel the urge NOT to cook compared to the urge of cooking. And still I am here writing a food blog. I must be nuts (there would be many who agree).

During the few days when I am the organized incarnation of myself I soak and freeze white/green peas, chole, rajma, moong dal etc. My disorganized self breathes a sigh of relief when I recall the frozen stash of goodies. Today in remembered the last two cups of white peas sitting in anticipation in their frozen state. I decided to cook ghugni. 

It is Bengali semi main course item, generally had either in the morning with porotha or more frequently in the evening  team with chop and misthi when people are visiting. For me anything that needs more than 15mins of pre/cook time , find a place for itself in main course. Ghugni is a light and quicker substitute for Chole. It forms a part of weekday quick cooking list. I loved the odd occasions when we were allowed to have the street food ghugni. Served in a dry leaf bowl it tasted wonderful. The chunks of coconut and slices of ginger were a perfect accompaniment to the mushy texture of the peas.  I am not sure if such things exists in anymore. Trips to Kolkata are now more hurried and harried. In a life of plenty time is the only scare commodity.

My ghugni cannot do justice to those memories. It would probably take me 10 mins to just get all the ingredients together. But it does gets to my dinner table in 20mins, which a winner on a sunday evening.

Ingredients

350-400gms white peas soaked overnight and drained

½ onion slicked fine

1 tomato cubed

½ inch ginger grated or paste

2 bay leaves

2 green cardamon

1inch cinnamon stick

2 cloves

2 tbsp cumin powder

2 tbsp coriander powder

1tbsp bhaja masala (use garam masala if you do not have the bengali secret)

4 tbsp oil

2 tbsp tamrina or tamrind pulp (optional)

Roasted cumin powder for garnish (optional)

Combine the bayleaves, cardamon , cloves and cinnamon with peas and water and pressure cook it. If you are using frozen peas like me, allow an extra whistle, else two should get it to a cooked state.

While that’s happening, heat the oil in a wok/pan. Add the grated ginger to that. 10secs for it to sizzle before you add the onions. Lightly sauté the onions, enough to get the raw taste out. You need not cook them to brownish state. Add the tomatoes and the cumin and coriander powder to it. Again the intent is to cook the raw taste out of the powders. You do not need to mash the tomatoes, let them loose their shape in the course of stirring and cooking. It takes generally 5-6 mins for this quantity

Once the peas are boiled, add it to the mixture in the wok and let it simmer.  At this point, season with salt and the bhaja/garam masala. I cover it and let it cook for 15mins. I sometimes add tamarina sauce or tamarind pulp to add the sour tinge to it. A slice of lemon work as well.

Garnish with chopped onions and fresh coriander.

In case you are wondering about the accompanying porotha as AS was, sorry that’s not happening. i am going to eat only ghughni, if you fancy something more you are welcome to the bread or the tortillas.

A day well spent…and ended

Steaming Dessert (Bhapa Doi)

Bengal is famous for its mishit doi. The statement which follows the proclamation of being a bengali is ..”oh rosogulla and misti doi”. But while misti doi rakes in the fame, its cousin ‘bhapa doi’ gets the silent treatment. To be fair, I myself had not tasted one until my mid-twenties and that to not at home. In fact I have never tasted homemade misti doi ever! That is weird. Guess it is because it is so easily available in shops in kolkata.

The first thing I learned on coming to Uk was about yoghurt. Different texture (greek, set), flavour (strawberry!!, mango, passionfruit) and of course health conscious probiotic ones. I had never ever seen so many at one place. In fact never had store bought yoghurt till we set up a rented home in first year of job. I was quite surprised on my recent visit to a delhi supermarket to see a similar range. I never liked it at home..it was always a watery kind of thing. Boil the milk, cool it, add the sample (jamun..it was called) and let it to grow itself into a sour mess. In an Indian kitchen where overnight food was looked down upon it is wonder how a fermented item is so important. I did a bit of search on this. It turns out to be quiet a nutritious thing. And in term of ayurveda dahi has some of the biggest digestive capabilities. That explains why it is a component when we have rich and indolent food. Biryani is served with raita, curd rice is a preferred food item with chilli laden fares of the south india and finally as a tenderizer and gravy base in dishes like Mutton/ chicken rezala.

But this lactobacillus treated milk has changed the retail market in the last few decades like no other product. Hardly anybody I know set their own yoghurt. There was a recent feature on the telly about the European yoghurt market. It was a revelation! There is a billion euro worth of retail industry around this ‘afterthought’ of food.

I quiet like yoghurt-y desserts.. They do not have the diabetic level of sugar involved and the tinge of sourness is refreshing as well. They are easy to make ( i.e. assuming you don’t belong to the old school of setting your own dahi).

If you have survived on my treatise on yoghurt, then I am honoured. You will be duly rewarded with the light and fluffy bhapa doi recipe in down below.

Ingredients

• 250 ml of set yoghurt ( I use onken)
• 5 tbsp condensed milk
• 3 cardamon pods crushed
• 5-6 pistachios slivered for garnish
• Optional
• Sugar (accordingly to taste)
• Saffron 5-6 strands
• 2 spoonful milk powder
• 2 spoonful milk powder

Use a light tea towel or a square cloth from some old cotton scarf. Pour the yoghurt in and twist the cloth to make a potli. If you are planning this in advace tie the cloth to your washbasin tap to drain overnight. If pressed for time, like I always am..put it in a colander and fill up a heavy saucepan with water and put on top of this. Leave for at least an hour. More is better. I put the colander into a plate or big bowl and the use the liquid coming out for buttermilk.

Overnight or a couple of hours later add all the items on the ingredient (except the pistachios) and mix to a smooth consistency. You may want to leave items out depending on your taste. I sometimes do not use cardamom as it seems a common enough taste in sweets made by me. Sugar again is subjective. After the condensed milk you would need a spoon or too at the max anyways. Ensure that the sugar is not granulated. You can use castor sugar is you want. If you used granulated then it ends up spoiling the texture when we bake the doi.

Set you oven to 180 degrees or gas mark 6 for 10 mins to warm it up.

Now put small cake grease proof paper into the ramekins, if you do not have ramekins or cake moulds, do not worry. You can make do with any bowls (preferably small size). The cake-paper mould have two advantages. One they allow the wobbly bhapa doi to come out of the ramekins easily, two they give a nice ribbed texture to the sides.

Pour the prepared mixture into the bowls or ramekins you have selected. Fill the mixture only till halfway point. If you give it a lot of height it might fall over during serving.

Fill a baking tray with water such that when you place the bowls in it, the water level outside is same as the yoghurt level inside. Now there are two roads to take. You can cover the bowl with aluminium foil or leave it open. I have tired both and found it tastes same either ways. Maybe I am not doing something correct. You might want to try some both ways.

Put the baking tray in oven and let it cook for at least 30 mins.

You know its done, if you see the mixture leaving the sides of the mould. The idea is to evaporate all the water of the doi and cook the mixture to a pudding consistency with a jelly like wobbly aspect to it.

Be very very careful when taking out the tray. I have ended a couple of my trials with the final product taking a dunking in the water at this stage. As the water would be hot by this time so it can spill over you as well.

If you have used paper mould inside bowls or ramekins the next step is easy. Just pick up the cake mould and put a small plate over it and turn it around. Take off the paper.

Alternatively if you are working without the paper mould, you can serve it without doing anything more.

Garnish with sliced pistachios and strands of saffron for the lovely golden tinge.