It’s going to be a rather long weekend. Not that I understand the difference considering I work from home but I see friends making plans to whisk away somewhere for the weekend. As for me, I see plenty of baking over the weekend. What are your plans?
This is the first time in six months I’ve taken such a long break from my blog. Blogging rule #1 says never to ignore your ardent followers for too long. I have been absent for a few days, I know and I have a genuine explanation. I was fever bound and stepping into the kitchen was not an option. Continue reading
I’ve never really spoken about my love for Indian sweets here. I grew up in a house where ghee (clarified butter), sugar and dry fruits were used in abundance. I’d go to heaven and come back with just the waft of cashewnuts and almonds being tempered in a dollop of unctuous, melting ghee. There was no room for miserliness in the kitchen.
And July is also coming to an end. Is it just me or is time really on some mission to travel at the speed of a bullet train? I’m sitting by the window, looking at this sparrow perched on a power line, my brain practically drawing a blank and then out of nowhere I wake up and start working on my excel sheet for next month, of things to do, what to bake and ingredients to buy.
I get high on goat’s cheese. I wish it wasn’t quite so expensive. Otherwise, I’d have it every day, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I love how it tickles my palate with its sharpness and just as it gets overbearing, it melts and disappears into nothingness.
People often say that life is about simple pleasures. I think this recipe is a testament to that. I saw this recipe on Delicious Magazine and I instantly fell in love with the idea of goat’s cheese and onion jam resting on a disc of golden brown puff pastry.
At times when I don’t have clarity, the only thing that saves me is baking. I sit by my window with a cup of coffee, wondering how that pie or cake is going to turn out. I might’ve done everything right but I can still never be sure. And when the cake or pie comes out as it should, the little pieces come together, my thoughts aren’t as cloudy and I feel as though I’ve been injected with a fresh dose of endorphins.
The first time I ate a cheesecake was when I was in school. I had gone to my cousin’s house in Bangalore for vacation. It was summer and that only meant one thing – mangoes. She taught me how to make a simple, no-bake mango cheesecake. When I say simple, I mean simple and that doesn’t mean it wasn’t delicious; it was smashing.