Hello, boys and girls!
Welcome to cooking with Varun! Few things are as trying as an Indian summer. Depending on where in the country you are, the temperature could easily be in the mid 40s (C). It's oppressively hot, humid and stepping outdoors is like stepping into a very large pre-heated oven. Throw in a few million people and it's not exactly the most comfortable place to be.
When I started working, I played for the company football team and our biggest annual tournament was played when summer was at its peak. We don't have super grassy grounds in India, and the ones we played on were dusty and pebbly and got so hot we had to pour water over our shoes to stop the soles of our feet from burning! Growing up though, we didn't care. Summer vacations were what we waited for from the turn of every year. We'd wake, scarf down breakfast, then all meet to play cricket in the parking lot or garden of our housing society until lunchtime, run home to scarf down lunch and pick up where we left off until it was either too dark or we had lost enough balls. We'd get sweaty, brown, and dirty and it was the best time. We had a lot of trees in our housing society we could flop under and if we got thirsty, we'd simply ring the doorbells of other residents to ask for water. A few times a week, we'd go for a swim followed by ice-cream and by then we'd be too exhausted for much else!
The best part though, was that summer in India is mango season. We don't have the huge tropical mangoes there that you get in other parts of the world. What we have is pure magic in mango form. Smaller, more yellow, and sweeter than their international counterparts, there are huge variety of mangoes that fill every inch of the place with their gorgeous aroma. Each unique in shape and flavour, the one I'm most partial to are the Alphonso mangoes. They are called Hapus in Maharashtra and if I could pick one fruit to eat for the rest of my life, that would be it. Thankfully, they export them now so you get them for your friendly neighbourhood Indian grocery store!
This recipe works with any variety of the fruit, but if you can get Alphonso, you're golden.
For my Mango Rabdi, you will need the following:
Welcome to cooking with Varun! Few things are as trying as an Indian summer. Depending on where in the country you are, the temperature could easily be in the mid 40s (C). It's oppressively hot, humid and stepping outdoors is like stepping into a very large pre-heated oven. Throw in a few million people and it's not exactly the most comfortable place to be.
When I started working, I played for the company football team and our biggest annual tournament was played when summer was at its peak. We don't have super grassy grounds in India, and the ones we played on were dusty and pebbly and got so hot we had to pour water over our shoes to stop the soles of our feet from burning! Growing up though, we didn't care. Summer vacations were what we waited for from the turn of every year. We'd wake, scarf down breakfast, then all meet to play cricket in the parking lot or garden of our housing society until lunchtime, run home to scarf down lunch and pick up where we left off until it was either too dark or we had lost enough balls. We'd get sweaty, brown, and dirty and it was the best time. We had a lot of trees in our housing society we could flop under and if we got thirsty, we'd simply ring the doorbells of other residents to ask for water. A few times a week, we'd go for a swim followed by ice-cream and by then we'd be too exhausted for much else!
The best part though, was that summer in India is mango season. We don't have the huge tropical mangoes there that you get in other parts of the world. What we have is pure magic in mango form. Smaller, more yellow, and sweeter than their international counterparts, there are huge variety of mangoes that fill every inch of the place with their gorgeous aroma. Each unique in shape and flavour, the one I'm most partial to are the Alphonso mangoes. They are called Hapus in Maharashtra and if I could pick one fruit to eat for the rest of my life, that would be it. Thankfully, they export them now so you get them for your friendly neighbourhood Indian grocery store!
This recipe works with any variety of the fruit, but if you can get Alphonso, you're golden.
For my Mango Rabdi, you will need the following:
| Milk | 1 litre |
| Mangoes | 2-3 medium (or 2-3 cups of pulp) |
| Sugar | 10-12 tsp |
| Cardamoms | 2-3 |
| Cornflour | 2 tsp |
| Almonds | handful |
Prep:
- Pulp the mangoes.
- Mix the cornflour in a splash of cold milk to make a slurry.
- Roughly chop the almonds.
- Turn on the gas.
- Crank it up to high.
- Bung a heavy bottomed pan on.
- Pour in the milk.
- Toss in the cardamoms.
- Wait for the milk to come to a boil.
- Turn away for a split second.
- Turn back to see the milk boiling over!
- Quickly drop the heat to low.
- Try to use a paper towel to wipe up some of the spilt milk.
- Accidentally touch the pan.
- Burn fingers.
- Curse.
- Crank the heat up to medium to bring the milk to a simmer.
- Reduce to about 1/3rd. (This will take an hour or so.)
- Pop in the mango pulp.
- Mix.
- Drop the heat to low.
- Let it boil and reduce for about 15 minutes (stir at intervals when you get bored).
- Spoon in the sugar.
- Mix well.
- Add in the cornflour slurry to thicken.
- Simmer for a little longer until it reaches the desired consistency.
- Throw in most of the almonds.
- Mix.
- Let cool.
- Garnish with the remaining almonds and some diced fresh mango.
- Serve.
- Stuff face.
- Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.
Tip: If you're using tinned mango pulp, you might want to adjust the amount of sugar you add. I'd recommend adding a tbsp at a time and tasting it each time until it's as sweet as you want it.
And remember, overeating is a myth. A full tummy is a happy tummy!
