Baklava Pistachio Sandwich Ice cream

The ice cream peddler in his Ottoman-esque costume of golden vest and red fez, teased the customers with the metal pole he used for stirring the Turkish ice cream. The ice cream was so stretchy, it dangled on the pole without falling off, much to the amusement of passersby. He further taunts by offering the cone and grabbing it back, tossing it in the air, inverting the cone just when you think the order is ready. Occasionally, you are party to the drama by getting a lick off the ice cream. We watched in bewilderment, despite having witnessed it nearly everyday of our 5 day stay in Istanbul. On this day though, we had decided to put our affair with the pistachio ice cream with hazelnut aside and find our way to Karaoke gulluoglu, a baklava parlour. As we navigated through the narrow by lanes for a good hour, it was tough not to pull up a chair and sit in any one of the countless baklava shops in the same area. But we resisted for the promise of having the best baklava with the best kaymak (rich Turkish buffalo clotted cream) in town.

Once we reached, we realised looking around at other tables that baklava here wasn't just a pastry on go or a dessert to have a slice off. It was to be devoured over golden hued warm tea, over conservation that lasted for hours, with friends that schemed of how is the perfect way to go about a relationship. So despite, having stuffed ourselves with the best kind of freshly grilled mackerel sandwich just outside of the shop, we decided to order one of each type of baklava we could lay eyes on.

Corn Halwa (Indian pudding) with Raspberry Coulis

In some days we are heading into Eid ul Fitr -  a celebratory day for Muslims marking the end of Ramadan - the holy month of fasting. Growing up Eid was the day of new clothes, new jewellery, new shoes and everything a little girl would wish for. Delicious, gluttonious food flew left and right and at the end of it all you would sure feel like you can't eat for rest of the year. Our heavily embroidered Indian outfits where neatly folded and packed to open for the next coming Eid given they were impossible to wear on any other day. But Eid wasn't Eid until we were handed our Eidi - the gifts given to kids by relatives and friends. We sat enthusiastically in the hallway in anticipation of who would visit us, what gifts they would bring and who would end up collecting the most money (the most common form of Eidi).

Labneh Fig and Thyme Tart with Pistachio Almond Crust

Recently, I bumped into an old friend. We smiled at each other, looked into each other's eye for more than normal and we moved on.

Our friendship had ended abruptly. We both got to a point where we knew we had to go our own ways before things got bitter but despite of it, we dragged along for a long time until one day. One day I didn't take her call. When friendship or for that matter any relationship doesn't create any positive energy, I move away. Without much words, because words always fail me in times of extremity.

Rose and Rooh Afza Ice Cream

 

The blue paint is chipping off some of the benches, while others are glossily newly painted over the old paint in attempt to hide the distress the wood has seen in last 15 years. The walls are covered entirely by advertisements, the same ones I saw as a child. Adverts of ice creams and drinks they no longer serve or even manufactured still proudly hanging in all its glory despite the wear and tear. A particular poster with a girl next door model, in her gypsy top and rugged jeans advertising cola heightens the 90's appeal of this tiny cafe in my hometown in Rajasthan, India. 

While sitting there waiting for our orders, it was as if time has stood still, I was still the adamant 10 year old, insisting with Papa on getting one more ice cream and the owner would hand me another kulfi without Papa's consent. 'Le lene do - saal main ek baar hi toh aati hai India'  - Let her have it, she only comes to India once a year, he would tell Papa.

Flaky Blood Orange Tart with Salted Caramel Sauce

Friday brings mixed feelings to surface every single week. It is the only day of the week we get to spent together. Yet, before the day starts, fear of the day ending too fast starts evading my mind. The idea of sleeping through the day without having talked enough, cooked enough and done enough just scares me. Friday has to be special, something I can hold onto all week and look forward to the next.

Chocolate Clementine Mousse with Caramelized Clementine

 

Eating fruits somehow always makes me nostalgic. Every season, after every meal, we would sit around my mother while she meticulously peeled and chopped the fruits for us. Summer were often more labor-some for her as she sliced oranges and watermelons for a family of six. In winters though, we each would be handed a custard apple, clementine or  tangerine right after the meal.

Rhubarberric Macarons - A Guest Post by Xiaolu of Six Bitter Sweets

I'm always in awe of people who can bake beautiful things. I spend hours looking at baked creations and then sigh thinking to myself I can't make that! That's what's different about Xiaolu of Six Bitter Sweets.

Double Nutella Chip Cookies

Lately M - the husband is threatening me.

Lemon Curd

When life gives you lemon, make lemon curd. 

Lemon Panacotta with Lavender Cream

I think its time to look through my pantry. Its true, I have a compulsive disorder. Its not diagnosed by any doctor yet but I know if I went to one, they have a special name for people with my kind of disorder. Like compulsive food hoarding disorder, food insecurity disorder, may be something like war times disorder. Well, isn't it true, during wars people stock food?  I don't know. Its not like I ever witnessed war. Or may be I did when I was 3 years old, the Gulf war of 1990's.