Cucumber cake with Gin icing

I Love September! It marks the baking calendar for me. And till March I'll be indulging in one luscious birthday bake after another! Mum's birthday falls in September, and I love adding an element of booze in her cakes. A rather generous element if I may add 😜 

In past years, there has been a very potent Chocolate Rum Cake, and a milder Beer Chocolate Cake. This year was a departure. I had been eyeing Kate Hackworthy's rather intriguing Cucumber and lemon Cake. It looked so pretty and refreshing. And of course, it came with a tempting Gin frosting. That cinched it for me! We had a bottle of Bombay Sapphire just begging to be used. It would be the perfect complement. My folks were less convinced! 

But I was going to convert them for sure. This recipe was popular and there had to be a reason.It was fairly easy to make. So that was definitely reason number one! It looked delicate and pretty. So reason number two. The frosting! Oh soooo good!! That was reason three, four and five! Then, the first bite! A refreshing summer party in my mouth! Reasons? Do we need anymore?! 

To those who are curious whether the cucumber taste carries through, I would say... Yes. It does. But not in a weird way. With the gin frosting and that light lemon aftertaste, the cucumber still remains the star. But the marriage of flavors is just fantastic. And may I add, addictive! Very addictive! I kept slicing thin corners to ward off temptation. Then, kept going back for more. The non believers were all converts. I can definitely see myself making this cake again and again. Coz it tastes brilliant even minus the frosting. So, if you need a wow factor for your next do, this is just the thing to try!

 

 

Ingredients:

Cucumber                   200 gm

Lemon                         1, zest and juice

Butter                          150 gm

Granulated sugar         150 gm 

Vanilla essence            2 teaspoons

Flour                            200 gm

Eggs                             2

Baking powder            2 teaspoons

Icing:   Gin                  4 tablespoons

             Icing sugar      200 gm

            Butter               75 gm

Method:

Preheat the oven to 180 C. Wash the cucumber. Leave the skin on and slice vertically. Scrape out the seeds and puree. Add the lemon juice. Beat the butter, sugar, zest and vanilla till light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating really well after each addition. Sift the baking powder and flour together. Now, alternating between the dry ingredients and the cucumber puree, add a little at a time to the batter. Mix well after each addition. So basically, add some flour, then mix. Add some cucumber, then mix. Continue till all combined. Pour into a greased tin and bake for 40 minutes. When done, allow the cake to cool completely. For the icing, just beat all the ingredients till smooth and fluffy. Refrigerate till the cake is ready to be frosted. Slice the cooled cake horizontally. Sandwich the layers with the icing. Swirl the rest of the icing on the top. And your Cucumber cake is ready!

 

The Leftovers Cake

The Diwali frenzy has died down. The diyas have been washed and stored away. The fairy lights have been brought down and carefully returned to their boxes. The din of the crackers had quietened. The belts have loosened a notch. And the fridge is groaning under the weight of the mountain of mithais!

While we wait an entire year to indulge in these special Diwali sweets, the week long exchange makes us groan at the sight of yet another laddoo or barfi. 

Short of giving it away or crumbling it into yet another kheer or dessert, there aren't too many options around. But this year I decided to be inventive!

 

While the overdose of mithais had everyone gagging sweet, the realm of cakes had been untouched. If I could reinvent the barfis into a less sweet, unconventional tea cake, I was sure it would  find many takers. 

My inspiration came from the delicious Mawa Cake. This east meets west fusion was perfect for the cake I had in mind. After all, most mithais had a generous base of mawa to complement the dry fruits tucked within. Armed with a random mix of Kaju katlis, anjeer barfi, pista rolls and lavang latikas I set out to bring my experiment to life.

The result you ask? This gorgeous golden hued, light as air cake. The crust was crisp and inside was all soft sweetness. Redolent with the fragrance of mawa and dry fruits, this cake was an instant hit with the young and old alike. People came back for seconds. And thirds! Dipped into tea. Warmed for a quick snack. Topped with shrikhand for a rich dessert. This was definitely the most versatile product of my Diwali Leftovers! 

My fridge is emptied of all the excess mithai that lay unwanted. And I have a house filled with cake satiated tummies! Now if only someone can find a way to recycle all that Son Papdi!

Ingredients:
Leftover Mithai                200 gm
Maida                               200 gm
Butter                               200 gm
Powdered Sugar               150 gm
Cardamom powder          1/4 teaspoon
Baking Powder                1 teaspoon
Eggs                                 4

Method:
Pre heat the oven to 180 C. Beat the butter and sugar well, till it is light and fluffy. Mix in the crumbled mithai. And beat well, till the batter is smooth. Sieve the maida, cardamom powder and baking powder and fold into the batter. Beat the eggs and incorporate into the batter. Mix everything well to get a smooth, consistent batter.
Alternately, if effort is not your thing, just whizz everything together in a food processor or mixie. Pour into a greased baking tin and bake for 45 minutes till a skewer inserted comes clean. Cool and slice!

Gulab Jamun Cake

Traditional Indian Mithai and Cake? Doesn't sound quite right does it?! To most it seems incredulous that one carry marry the flavours of the Indian dessert palate with that of the European ones. But having successfully attempted the hugely popular Mawa Cake, I knew not only was it possible, but it was absolutely divine! A warm homecoming with the heady aroma of baking. 

Now those who have read my very first post, know that baking for my grandfather can be quite a challenge. But I hadn't been around for his birthday in a long time, and I really wanted to bake him something special. 

My news feed of late had been flooded with stories of Rasmalai Cake. While I personally don't enjoy rasmalai, it did give me an idea. I knew I had to make a cake that had its roots in the familiar. It really was a no brainer then. No dessert is ever as popular as the Gulab Jamun, and I knew I had to attempt yet another G-jam makeover.

I started my research and realized there had been a few attempts at recreating the magic, but nothing I looked at really hit the note. I read on and picked the brain of another Baking Diva I know. Also, Monster Munchkin would want to be part of the process, so I needed something simple yet drool worthy! This recipe seemed about right. But it needed a little more to make it truly festive and celebratory. I played with a few suggestions that would complement and not overpower the actual cake. And most importantly not push it to the realm of the too-sweet-for-seconds shelf. 

To be honest, I had my reservations even when I put the finishing touches. What if it was a total disaster? It seemed perfect on paper. The cake was light and baked to perfection. The frosting was not just a mouthful of oversweet fluff, and very consciously incorporated the only mithai my munchkin deigns to eat.  But what if my instincts were a little off! Heart in mouth, I carted it to my grandparents' place. Sure, it looked good. But aah! The all important taste test was still waiting. 

The first forkful, and my grandfather declared it a success! And it had nothin to do with the fact that his granddaughter and great grandson had baked it. For once, even my worst critic (Me!), had to nod in agreement. This was one for the kitchen heirlooms. A dessert that was going to grace my table many more times in the future!

Ingredients:

Cake:

Gulab Jamun Mix             3/4 cup

Whole Wheat Flour          3/4 cup

Sugar                                 3/4 cup

Milk                                  1 cup, warm

Vinegar                             1 tablespoon

Baking Powder                 1/2 teaspoon

Baking Soda                     1/4 teaspoon

Oil                                     1/4 cup

Salt                                    a pinch

Green Cardamoms            6

Frosting:

Kalakand                          200 gm

Almonds                           8

Cream Cheese                  180 gm

Gulab Jamuns                   8 small

Method:

Preheat the oven to 180 C. Mix the vinegar in the milk and keep aside for 15 minutes. Powder the sugar with the cardamoms. Sift all the dry ingredients together and give it a twirl with a wire whisk or spoon. Make a well in the center and add the rest of the cake ingredients. Whisk it well by hand or electric whisk till well blended. Bake in a greased 8 inch round pan for 35 minutes. Let it cool completely.

Upturn the cake onto a plate and slice horizontally in the middle. Liberally soak the two halves with the syrup from the gulab jamuns. Keep aside for 10 minutes. Lightly beat the cream cheese with a fork till fluffy. Spread a thin layer over the soaked halves. On the lower half, arrange sliced gulab jamuns to cover the entire area. I sliced my gulab jamuns into three parts, but it depends on the size if the jamuns. Now place the top half of the cake over this layer. The two halves reconciled, it was time for the final touch. Run the Kalakand in the mixer till smooth and mix into the remaining cream cheese. Generously swirl over your cake, letting your inner artist run free. Slice the almonds into chunky flakes and drop all over the frosted cake. 

I refrigerated the cake overnight and then brought it to room temperature before serving. But if your will power is being tested, you can dig in right away!

Ripe Mango Raita

Summers are here with their blistering cruelty and endless lethargic days. Yawning in the heat, food is really the last thing on anyone's mind. Unless it is a long sip of icy coldness. Sharbats, curds and salads rule the day. And of course, the king of fruits, the sweet sweet mango! Summers are practically synonymous with mangoes. The popularity of this royal fruit transcends all boundaries, and paens have been written in its praise! 

I remember summers in my uncle's orchards where the ripe mangoes had been tossed into the well to cool. Anytime we needed a mango fix all we had to do was lower the bucket and draw up some juicy goodness. Most households in India had a designated bucket in the corner of their kitchen. Filled with cool water and luscious golden mangoes. A friend of mine narrated an interesting custom at grandparents' place in Himachal. Once the mango season started, the kids would go visit, but would only be allowed once they had finished their allotted mini buckets of mango! 

Each household has mango based recipes they guard with the preciousness of jewels. Pickles, salads, jams, chutneys... all find a place in their repertoire. Now the best part of army life is that not only do we traverse diverse regions, but also form close bonds that last a lifetime. Over the years mum has amassed a treasure trove of traditional recipes via her fauji family.

One of mum's closest friends is Bhavani Aunty. She is one of the sweetest, most wonderful human being we've had the joy of calling our own. Not only is aunty a fabulous cook, but also an immensely creative one. She has the talent of spinning the most mundane into something exotic and drool worthy! And when mum tasted the Ripe Mango Raita at her place, she knew it was a recipe she would recreate time and again.

The traditional raita is made either with salad veggies like tomatoes and cucumber or with crispy fried gram flour boondi. But aunty's mango version was unusual and delicious! And really, what could be more summery than chilled curds swirled with chunks of sensational mangoes!

  

Ingredients:

Curds                      500 ml

Water                      150 ml

Mangoes                 2, medium

Onion                      1, small

Green chillies          3

tempering: Mustard seeds       1 teaspoon

                   Curry leaves          3 sprigs

                  Red chilli powder   1/2 teaspoon

                  Oil                           1 teaspoon

Method:

Whisk together the curds and water till smooth. Add salt to taste. Finely chop the onion and green chillies. Mix into the whisked curds. Cube the mangoes and gently toss into the mix. Prepare the tempering by heating the oil and letting the mustard seeds splutter. Throw in the curry leaves and let them crisp. Turn off the gas and add the red chilli powder, Swirl the tempering over the prepared raita and chill in the refrigerator for a while. Serve as a side with pulao or biryani. And to be honest, it tastes fabulous on its own!

Kheer Komola

The new year is upon us. A whole 365 days filled with opportunities. And given the blogosphere trend, this post should be about resolutions and hope. But I am perennially optimistic and I really don't do resolutions. If I did I would have long ago vacated my warm couch, and walked out battling the real world. Instead I choose happily to sink further into my warm spot, snuggle my dog and monster munchkin closer and go tap tap on my browser.

Its not that I don't like interacting with the physical world. It is jus that I am plain lazy! I remember when my friends raved about the benefits of retail therapy, all I could think was why anyone would abandon their pajamas and blanket to battle crowds and look at racks and racks of the same boring stuff!

Then online shopping came along and my brain went Aah! This makes more sense. So there I was indulging in some post festive, end of reason sales therapy when I chanced upon Santrawale. They sell, well, oranges! Not just any oranges though. Organic, sustainable, sourced from farm oranges. They had me at Organic! So tappity tap and I had two dozen juicy Nagpur oranges on their way. 

Now if you've browsed my previous orange post you will know that I was suddenly struck with the question again. What the heck do I do with all those oranges. The marmalade batch was still going strong so that option was out. Wine was option two. But that was really a long term project. 

The new year demanded a new approach. (There I've done my bit of following blog trends) I needed something different. Something unexpected. Out came the journals and cookbooks. 

Kheer Komola popped up twice. Milk and Oranges? Sounds like a recipe for disaster right? And yet there were people out there enticing me to give it a swing. It was too cold for a souffle, but a dessert was definitely on my mind. Did I dare to try? 

It wouldn't be my first attempt at Orange Kheer, to be honest. A long time ago I had ignored mum's words of wisdom and experimented for a dinner party I was hosting. The recipe had been tried and tested by Good Housekeeping so what could possibly go wrong? Plenty, as it turned out! Instead of the refreshing, creamy dessert I ended up with a bowlful of dense gloop with a bitter aftertaste. To their credit, my guests actually ate their dessert and assured me it wasn't that bad. That disaster still loomed large in my food memories. And I do have this annoying need to conquer all peaks. So I geared up for round two of Kheer Komola challenge.

This time I was better prepared. I turned to friend Google and read every variation I could find. I said a short prayer. Brushed aside mum's skepticism and dad's ribbing. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Ignoring the monster munchkin's calls I concentrated completely on my kheer karma. And it paid off! I was finally rewarded with a creamy yet light dessert that brought with it the promise of a refreshing spring with its delicate citrus touch. (Yes I can poetically romance food.) This was Kheer Komola the way I had imagined it. And so you can put away your search results. Go on and benefit from my Experiments with Oranges! And be prepared for friends and folk to be wowed by your brave and unusual dessert masterstroke.

Ingredients:

Milk                              2 litres

Oranges                         7

Sugar                             10 tablespoon

Green Cardamoms         5 or 6

Saffron                           a few strands

Method:

Heat the milk in a heavy bottomed pan. Once it boils, reduce the flame to the lowest and let it simmer. Soak the saffron stands in a tablespoon of the warm milk and keep aside. In the meantime, separate the segments of the oranges. Carefully, split the segment and discard the thin outer membrane. The white membrane is what caused the bitterness in my previous attempt. Remove all seeds as well, taking care to preserve only the pulp and juices of the oranges. It is a monotonous and exacting task, but then that's what makes this kheer so special. It is actually a labour of love! Powder the cardamoms, and don't forget to stir the milk every once in a while, scraping the bottom to ensure it doesn't stick and burn. Once the milk has reduced to less than half the quantity, blushing with a creamy hue, stir in the sugar, cardamom powder and the saffron soaked in milk. Let it simmer for another five minutes and then turn off the heat. Let the milk cool to lukewarm and then gently stir in the orange pulp. Allow the milk to be infused with the citrusy goodness overnight or for atleast four hours, If you are in warmer climes, serve this chilled and topped with pistachios. If like me you are freezing and need a reminder of the spring to come, serve the kheer at room temperature. And if like my father you want everything piping hot, just zap a bowlful in the microwave for 30 seconds. Either way, you won't be disappointed.