Tag Archives: shrikhand recipe

Shrikhand, cherry and amoretti fool

25 Nov

Shrikhand, cherry and amoretti fool

I am writing this recipe on the request of the lovely people who came along to my last cookery class in London and we didn’t even cover this recipe at the class!  I just assembled 17 (one for each attendee, none for me) glasses of this pretty and easy to make sweet dish before they arrived and as soon as they came out, even whilst I was explaining what the fool comprises, they were swiftly lifted off my tray. Each of the glasses came back empty and many requests and follow-up requests ensued. So, I take this one is popular.

Shrikhand, cherry and amoretti fool by Deena Kakaya

Shrikhand is a sweetened, thickened curd. Traditionally, yoghurt would be strained through tightly woven cotton or cheesecloth to remove excess moisture and leaving creamy, pillows behind. This curd is then infused with saffron, cardamom and sugar as well as rose water. I remember my mother going through the onerous and utterly rewarding process from my childhood and oh, the joy of scooping Shrikhand up with some puri (fried and fluffy bread).

The funny thing is, a wonderful and sweet lady who attended the class said me ‘Deena I HATE Shrikhand, but I absolutely loved your fool’. Many jokes are popping into my head about who, ‘my fool’ may be, but let’s not.

The fool is layered with sticky sweet cherries; compote really, then there is a bite of amoretti and sprinkle of pistachio. I am being utterly serious when I say there was really not a lick of the spoon left in the kitchen. Wiped clean. Totally.

A few of my class said they would make this for Christmas and I think I may too. Every family has guests that have dietary needs and in my family there is the exclusion of sugar as I come from a family of diabetics and you can make Shrikhand without using generic sugar. The other restriction is eggs; we generally need one eggless dessert.  So, this is an easy peasy one that you can make using quark and make each of the components ahead of time and then assemble them when you are ready to serve the dish; no fear of flattening bakes or ice creams that don’t set. Relax.

Ingredients to serve 4-6

500g Quark

100g caster sugar for the Shrikhand

Two pinches of ground cardamom

One pinch of saffron

1 tbsp. rose water

200g frozen cherries

70g sugar for the cherries

25g unshelled pistachio, finely chopped

4-6 amoretti biscuits

Method

  1. Combine the quark, sugar, rose water saffron and cardamom. If your saffron is in strands rather than the powdered version I have used, heat 1 tsp. of milk and infuse the strands of saffron into the milk before adding them (when cooled) to the Shrikhand.
  2. To make the berry compote, combine the sugar and cherries and heat them on a low-medium flame until they have thickened. This should take 10-15 minutes. Turn off the heat and then allow the compote to cool to room temperature. Then, pop them in the fridge for a couple of hours.
  3. To serve, place two heaped dessert spoonful’s of the Shrikhand in the bottom of the glass, then top with the two dessert spoons of the cherries. Then place an amoretti biscuit on the top and a sprinkle of pistachio.

 

Carrot shrikhand in meringue nests

26 Sep

Carrot shrikhand in meringue nests

Carrots are pretty simple, aren’t they?

I have never really been one to be overly excited about a carrot, not even when it is dunked in the world’s best hummus and I was one of those that drew them to a side at school when they appeared as boiled or soggy sides during forgettable lunch times. I don’t feature them at Christmas and when a health visitor suggested that I wean my boy on boiled sticks of carrot, even I turned my nose. Whilst the foodie world fusses over damsons and aubergines, gelato and burrata here I am, talking to you about, well…carrots.

But, a couple of days ago Riverford sent me a generous bounty of perfectly fragranced and muddy carrots which, when the boy and I finished scrubbing, revealed to be some ultra-orange charms that tasted so sweet that it confused my mind a little. It was the kind of sweetness that you get when you roast a vegetable, you know, delicate but abundant. So then what to do with this princely amount?

Carrot shrikhand in meringue nests by Deena Kakaya

So I did what anyone who needs a question answering does these days, I put it out on social media (yes, let’s all roll our eyes a little at this, but look I haven’t turned to telling my two-year-old son how proud I am of him over Facebook yet, so there is still hope). Anyway, social media responses suggested pickle (I have been thinking of it since so this will follow in due course, with lemon or limes), carrot halwa, carrot cake, and carrot juice…all sounding fab huh?

Given that these carrots hold so much sweetness and colour I am starting ‘mission carrot’ with a sweet dish and that is my beloved Shrikhand.

Carrot shrikhand in meringue nests

Shrikhand is an Indian sweet dish made of strained yoghurt, which when it becomes thick and creamy is sweetened with sugar and then spiced with saffron, rose water, cardamom, pistachio and is so indulgent and lick-worthy. But you know me. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t fusion-it-up. Behold the carrot Shrikhand that is juicy, creamy, royal-feeling and perfectly naughty on a crisp and airy meringue.

For the full recipe head over to great british chefs

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lychee and toasted coconut frozen yoghurt with rose and cardamom

23 Apr

Lychee and toasted coconut frozen yoghurt with rose and cardamom

Lychee and toasted coconut frozen yoghurt with rose and cardamom

 

The lychee is a ‘happy fruit’ don’t you think? I mean one associated with luscious and smiling memories. Not like the banana.

When I worked in the city I harried to work much earlier (than my husband) in the morning, dashing to the train station under pressure and I returned much later than my husband, carrying the smells of the underground and compressed with the worries of the day. Each morning I would wake early to cook dinner, so that I could go to the gym after work. I would chop fast, scoop spices pensively and go through presentations in my mind whilst doing so. In my husband’s own way, he would help by popping some nuts, apricots and a banana into my bag. Maybe a packet of crisps. All the way to work I would smell that banana and I imagined it bruising and softening. I would eat it as I trawled through emails and often I had a bit of a lump in my throat. I don’t eat bananas so much now.

All the other kid’s loved thepla when I was growing up. Spicy, fenugreek chapatti that are well oiled for extra softness and my mother willed me to love them as they are convenient; they contain some nutritious fenugreek and are easy to transport. They are perfect for picnics, keep well for a couple of days and make for great packed lunches. I just didn’t take to them. I had eaten them once at my dad’s barbers shop with my brother. We sat waiting, legs swinging and bashing against peeling black, faux-leather chairs and pulling thepla out of my pink, ‘My Little Pony’ lunchbox.  We had been waiting so long for my dad’s turn and I was sure that it felt lengthier because the wide-jawed and white mopped fellow talked at length with each of his customers about their line of business, how life was much better when they lived in Africa and the price of petrol. I looked up and around the orange walls at the black and white pictures of Indian cars, Ganesh (the elephant headed God who would of course bestow prosperity to this shop), and sunny Indian plains.  I think I could taste hair in my thepla. It’s what put me off for many years. Until I was pregnant that is. From my second trimester onwards I ate thepla, yogurt and pickle for breakfast every single day.

Fresh coconut takes a long time to chew doesn’t it? It’s the fruit of religious festivities isn’t it? Please let’s not get into whether it’s a fruit or something else. When large, stainless steel bowls in the temple were used to offer coconut and nuts, I would always go for the coconut. That burst of juicy, fleshy coconut then lingered for ages and gave me a light ache on the side of my head but it was something to do whilst being jostled about by hordes of worshippers waiting in line to behold the idols of the Gods being celebrated that day, or the Prasad (blessed food offering) that day.  I grew more aggravated as I grew older. I whined to my mother about why we couldn’t just go home and eat and why people didn’t just queue in an on orderly fashion, why must they push and shove. Apparently Prasad tastes infinitely better than food cooked at home and not everyone knew what a queue is. Nonetheless, coconut IS the fruit of celebration. It formed a thick layer of freshness on my 30th birthday cake, in Mauritius. A layer of fresh cocoa, locally sourced coconut and light airy sponge made for memories that will glisten in the warm waters of my mind forever.

Of course I have been telling you about how I am taking better care of my body these days. This frozen yoghurt recipe is of course made from low fat yoghurt and it contains no sugar. I have used agave nectar to sweeten the yoghurt and it fits better with my low GI eating. Win-win.

Lychee and toasted coconut frozen yoghurt with rose and cardamom

Ingredients

750g plain natural yoghurt

2 tbsp. rose water

¾ tsp. ground cardamom

3/4 cup of desiccated coconut

125ml agave nectar

200g lychees (tinned is fine, as long as you drain the liquid)

Method

  1. Blitz the lychees until they are pulpy.
  2. Mix the lychees together with the rose water and cardamom
  3. Pour the yoghurt into the lychee mixture and then turn it into your ice cream maker. Churn the yoghurt until it reaches a creamy and smooth texture.
  4. If you do not have an ice cream maker then place the yoghurt into a plastic container and allow it to freeze. Once ice crystals appear, beat the yoghurt with a fork to remove the ice granules and freeze it again. You may have to repeat this couple of times.
  5. Whilst the yoghurt is churning or before you’ve beaten it, you will need to add the toasted coconut. To toast the coconut, use a non-stick pan. Heat the pan and then sprinkle in the coconut and toast it gently and stir intermittently. Allow it to catch a sunny and golden colour.
  6. Once the coconut has cooled and whilst the yoghurt is thick but not quite ready, add it to the ice-cream machine. If you do not have an ice cream maker then add the coconut when you are beating out the ice granules.

 

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