Spiced Double Chocolate Pudding [Eggless]

Chapter 5: New York (2012 - 2018)

Have you ever had a near death experience?

In summer of 2012, we relocated from Hong Kong to the city where dreams are made - New York. Even though we had always wanted to live and work in NYC, somehow when the opportunity arose, I was less than excited. Perhaps because it all happened so suddenly, or perhaps because I absolutely loved Hong Kong, and wasn’t quite ready to move on yet.

But move we did. New York, true to it’s name, was a strange experience - strangely maturing, strangely amazing, strangely lonely and strangely strange. It changed me in many ways. It was the city that made me courageous enough to pursue my passion of cooking, and open my own Private Chef & Dining Experience business. It was also the city that knocked me/us down several times, only to pick us up with a new lease on life.

In September 2012, right after we had moved into our own apartment and started settling into the NYC life, hurricane Sandy hit the city. It was a shocking welcome - seeing what a natural disaster can do, having zero family to rely on, and witnessing the most advanced city in the world coming to a standstill. We thought “is this a sign that NYC doesn’t welcome us?”. It wasn’t, it simply said, welcome to where you learn how to live - no matter what.

A year went by, and in July 2013, while I was slowly contemplating a leap into a food/catering business, my husband and I went for a run along the Hudson river in Battery park - downtown Manhattan. It was a lovely day, and we felt glad to be living in such a beautiful part of the city. We have a ritual to finish our runs at a coffee shop, so we decided to try one in the Meatpacking district we’d been hearing a lot about. It was amazing - and remains a favourite to the day. On our way back, we decided to take a detour, and walk through the scenic area of West Village - an area we hadn’t explored yet. As we walked by, chatting, we heard a loud bang. Another shock! Given we were in the US, the first thought that came to our minds was whether it was a gunshot. I fell to the floor, and my husband shrieked - blood. From my head. I held my head tight and screamed for help. Had someone hit me? Not really. We had been crossing a building site and a plank of wood had come loose and fallen from the 4th floor right on my head. I was sure this was it - NYC didn’t want us, want me. Panic ensued - my husband was telling me to stay awake, tearing his shirt to tie around my head tight, and asking some passersby to help call 911. The ambulance arrived, and we were whisked off to the nearest Emergency Room. It’s amazing I remember so much of the day - I think it was because I was constantly telling myself I am not ready to go yet.

At the hospital, we were told it’s a miracle I survived. A plank of that size, falling from that height, can most definitely kill in an instant. Strangely, 9 out of 11 of my head membranes had ruptured - one more and I would’ve had no chance. That day, the nurses joked, was my new birthday.

As I went back home, and started my recovery process, I felt mentally stronger than ever. Life had given me a blow before, but perhaps I was meant to be a survivor. I focussed on getting better, and there are 2 things (other than family and friends!) that I think truly saved me - exercise and food. I strongly believe in exercise to keep strong, and started at it as early as I was given clearance by the doctors. I also kept cooking. In fact, it was shortly after, in late August 2013 (less than 2 months after the accident) that I hosted my first supperclub. I recall hiding my scar & bruise with a new hairstyle, and feeling on top of the world as my first guests walked in. It was a positive road to recovery.

I ran my business and hosted supperclubs, dining experiences and private events for 5 fun years. It taught me so much about myself, about surviving. Looking back, I think the setbacks, however crazy, have led me to where I am today.

As I feel my scar, and think back on the day, I can only leave you with a recipe that resonates happiness. Chocolate. served them at one of my first supperclubs, and the taste reminds me of survival.

Ooey, gooey, rich & decadent, these are a cross between a custard & a mousse, where smoothness marries a hint of spice. They’re not only easy to make, but can also be made up to 2 days in advance. In fact, they taste better after 24-48 hours! I Give them a try, and leave a comment if you do.

Ingredients [makes 10-12 2oz pots]

1/2 cup pieces of Cadbury Dairy Milk, Dark (75-80%) Chocolate

1/2 cup pieces of Cadbury Dairy Milk, Milk Chocolate

2 tablespoon unsalted butter

3/4 cup heavy whipping or double cream

1/2 cup + 1/4 cup whole milk

2 green cardamom, crushed

2 cloves, crushed

1 cinnamon stick, broken in half

Pinch of salt

5 tbsp brown sugar (adjust to taste)

1 tbsp corn starch or 1 tbsp plain custard powder

1/4 tsp vanilla essence/extract

Method

Dissolve corn starch, salt, vanilla essence (or custard powder) in 1/4 cup milk and keep aside.

Keep the chocolate pieces and butter in a bowl. Bring the cream, remaining 1/2 cup milk, sugar, cardamom, cloves & cinnamon to a simmer. Remove from heat, cover and let the spices infuse for 3-5 minutes. Return to heat and bring to a second simmer. Once hot (but not boiling), pour through a strainer (to catch the whole spices) over the chocolate & butter. Mix well till all the chocolate pieces have melted and the mixture gets a smooth, glossy appearance - similar to that of ganache.

Return the mixture to low heat. When the edges begin to slightly simmer, slowly pour in the cornstarch mix and stir constantly. The chocolate mixture will begin to thicken. Cook for a few more minutes, stirring continuously, and making sure the heat isn't high enough for the mixture to boil over - this is key otherwise your chocolate will seize and get lumpy. Slow and patient is key here. Remove from heat and pour immediately (fill 3/4) into your serving cups. Refrigerate till set (4-5 hours or overnight). Serve with a pinch of rock salt & pomegranate seeds for crunch.

Masala Vadai (South Indian Lentil Fritters) - Vegan / Glutenfree

(continued) Chapter 3: Singapore (2000-2007 / 2008 - 2009)

I was hurting.

This was the darkest period of my life. After the incident, I moved back to Singapore to be with family, working a 9-6 banking job, trying to keep it all together for my brother and my father. But still hurting. I honestly don’t think I remember many thoughts or stories from these few years, and yet, it is so critical to think back and share some of it with you.

I was a project manager at a reputable bank - something I should’ve been proud of at 25. However, instead, every day I itched to leave and clear my mind, itched to heal, itched that it would all go away and be a bad dream, and itched to head back to Hong Kong - where my comfort blanket and then boy friend/now husband, lived. Every day I hoped the next day would feel better - mentally and physically, hoped my father and brother were coping, hoped I was being supportive enough, hoped that I would see the point of all this pain finally.

My father had moved temporarily to Singapore to be with my brother and I for a year. But although we lived together, we rarely talked as a family. My mother was the talker, the glue. Without her, everything just fell silent. Family felt like a duty, I felt we didn’t connect, and I didn’t know how to help myself or them grieve meaningfully. Through this, I tried to instil some feelings of ‘normality’ by cooking dinner each day. I felt that perhaps eating a warm, fond dish together would bring down some bridges. But I was too wrapped up in my emotions to understand that I wasn’t the only one facing monumental changes that no one dares to dream of - I see this clearer now. My father had been dealt the worst hand of it all - loss of life & words.

Through this there were two people in my life that literally kept me together. First - my boyfriend/husband, who despite knowing that he wasn’t accepted much by my father (more on that later), always had my side. And second, my university friend, G.

G used to work just around the corner at another bank, and was always there when I needed her. Like anyone else, she didn’t know what exactly to say or do to help, but she always tried. One of the things that became an almost daily ritual for us at work, was to step out for a late morning coffee + snack at a nearby kopitiam (coffee shop). It was the same - she would message saying “kopi & vadai time?” (coffee & fritter time), and I would say, “don’t feel like eating, but I’ll meet you for company”. We then met at the kopitiam few steps from my office thay was run by an Indian uncle, and he served the best South Indian snacks during the day - masala vadai, medhu vadai, sweet roti, curry puff, puttu and always a great kopi c (strong black coffee with evaporated milk). And almost every time, I would give in and eat. Talking to her, sitting there whiling away time, skipping work responsibilities, eating Indian snacks from a greasy plate made of newspaper, somehow made things feel normal. Unworried. Like nothing had changed. If only for a few minutes. Maybe because the flavours reminded me of happier times in Bangalore.

So, between G and my boyfriend, between the long and short distance, they looked out for me.

And I tried to look out for my dad and brother.

This Masala Vadai recipe is a thank you to all those who supported me when I was at my lowest. And the coffee shop uncle who I never knew, but fed my sanity and helped me slowly creep out of the darkness…

Ingredients
1/2 cup chana dal (split bengal gram) - approx 125 grams, soaked in water overnight

1/2 tsp coriander powder

1/4 tsp ground black pepper

1/2 tsp red chili powder

1 small onion, finely chopped

2-3 green chilies, finely chopped

1 tsp grated fresh ginger

10-12 fresh curry leaves, finely chopped

2-3 stalks of fresh coriander, finely chopped

Salt to taste

Oil for deep frying

Method

Drain all the water from the soaked chana dal, and grind it coarsely in a blender along with the dry spices - black pepper, coriander powder, chili powder and salt. It doesn’t have to be smooth, and some big chunks of dal that remain are ok. Do not add any water at all to grind, or it’ll break when frying.

Transfer to a bowl, and add all the remaining ingredients. Mix well with your hands till all the ingredients are well combined with the dal.

Use your hands to roughly shape into 1.5 inch discs. Do this with all the mixture and keep aside.

Heat oil in a deep pan. Once hot, slowly drop your vadai from the side into the oil. Fry till crispy and golden brown on both sides, and drain on a paper towel.

Serve hot with coriander chutney or chili mayo. These taste good hot or cold!

Indian Street Food: Egg White Bun Omelette

Chapter 2: School - Home - School (1993-2000)

You can take a child out of boarding school, but you cannot take the boarding out of a child.

In 1992, at the age of 9, I went to an all-girls boarding school in northern India. My brother was already in one for boys since 1990, and although they were different schools with little interaction, it was slightly relieving to know he was somewhere in the same town. Like all children, I had worked hard to get in and was excited that I was selected (mostly because it made my dad so happy!), although I don’t think I fully understood what was really happening. I just went with the flow - or rather didn’t have a choice. All I knew was that my parents were working very hard, saving and sacrificing, to be able to afford this for the both of us. And like all children, I was sad to go. I can only recall that the first few months (or perhaps years), were trying, to say the least.

At that age, there was nothing worse than seeing your parents walk away, and wave you a goodbye from outside the gates. I used to tiptoe as high as I could, and peek through the iron bars till I saw the last of my mums fluttering ‘dupatta’ (Indian clothing) walk away. I held back my tears every.single.time, because no parent wants to leave their child crying. It would just be easier for them. So I swallowed my feelings, and then let them all go on my dormitory bed.

My first bed was close to a window, and that gave me some comfort. There were girls’ who came from far, and those who lived nearby. Those who were unhinged that they were all alone in new surroundings, and others, like me, who let their feelings overwhelm them in the calm of the night. There were girls who broke rules, and those who drowned themselves in their studies. There were girls who were kinder than others, and those who had no visitors for months. As such, boarding school was my introduction to life.

In the years that I grew up, the one thing that I always felt grateful for was how connected my parents tried to remain with us while away. My mother wrote to me once a week (yes, this was way before internet and emails!) and made me promise that I would too. Sometimes a tear would drop on my letter, causing a smudge, and her next letter would have a long excerpt about how much fun we’d have when they visit - which would be very soon. How did she know?! They also always kept their promise to visit us once a month and, while I was only permitted to see them for a day, I took salvage in the realisation that many children never saw their loved ones at all through the term- so in a sense I was lucky. I felt loved and missed.

On such ‘outings’ (as they were called), my brother and I were forever starved. All we wanted to do was eat all of our favourite foods, snuggle with them and as for me, tell them a pile of stories that I had been saving for the day. On one such outing, while smacking our lips over a warm, oozy, slightly spicy bun omelette from a street side vendor, I started crying. When nudged for the reason, I revealed that I hated the eggs in school (reminded me of stale rubber), and had been going hungry most breakfasts. My dad was concerned. They had selected a “non-vegetarian” meals for me in school, but that meant meat & eggs. You could select being vegetarian with egg, but strangely there was no option to be non-vegetarian without egg. So after a bit of back and forth with my school matron, it was agreed I would simply switch to be vegetarian. I could stay without meat, but anything to not eat those eggs again.

This story is central to my dislike for eggs, which remained deeply engrained in me for many many many years. In fact, I truly only re-discovered them again when pregnant in 2015. And when you discover (good) eggs, there is no turning back.

Looking out on a grey rainy day, reminds me of that very school outing, and the day I officially broke up with eggs. It was a strange milestone, but a milestone nonetheless.

Bun Omelette, true to it's name, is a soft bread roll smothered in butter and stuffed with the most delicious, spicy, veg-filled omelette ever. It's a common street food in Northern India (although not the most hygienic!) and provides a great, cheap snack for many on the move.

Years later, when I started eating eggs again, I tried and tested many versions that wouldn’t make me gag. This egg-white bun omelette is surely one of them.

Ingredients

For the Omelette

3-4 egg whites (also delicious with whole eggs if you prefer. Use 2 eggs if using whole)

4 cherry tomatoes, halved

1/4 small onion, finely chopped

1 green chili, chopped

½ cup baby spinach leaves, roughly torn

Some fresh cilantro, finely chopped

½ teaspoon chaat masala (optional-available at most Indian grocery stores)

A pinch of turmeric

A pinch of garam masala (available at most Indian grocery stores)

2 tablespoons light olive oil

2 tablespoons aged cheddar or gouda cheese, grated

Salt & pepper to taste

Others

1 Bread Roll (I used Challah, but you could any soft buns or rolls of choice)

Butter to toast

If you have, cilantro chutney, sriracha mayo or your favourite hot sauce

Method

Beat the egg whites lightly with a pinch of salt and pepper. Keep aside.

Heat oil in a non-stick frying pan. Once hot, add the chilies, tomatoes & onions, with a pinch of salt. Cook till the onions are translucent and the tomatoes are soft enough to crush. Stir in all the dry spices, and cook for a quick few seconds. Add the spinach & cilantro, and cook till the leaves wilt. Add the beaten egg white, stir a little and then let it set. Once set, flip it over, and sprinkle with grated cheese and fold in half. Let the egg cook completely on both sides on medium-low heat. And it really doesn't matter if the omelette looks imperfect or breaks! The flavour will all itself in the mountain of veggies and spices we added.

Put it together

Cut the buns in half. Butter them (generously!) and put face down on the same pan you cooked the egg. Lightly toast each half, and then remove from heat. Add a teaspoon of cilantro chutney/hot sauce/sriracha mayo on one half, followed by the omelette, and close with the other half. Cut into half and enjoy warm with your hands - please no forks and knives here! A cup of masala chai on the side never hurts.

Eggless Coconut Tiramisu

“Tiramisu, Tiramisu, you could be a song,

Of love and sweetness, and a journey long,

A taste of knowledge, soaked in deep,

A whiff of adrenalin, in bottomless sleep,

A story of culture, with layers few,

Dressed in colours, white, pink or blue,

And where there is mistake, a sorry you can be,

As grape is to wine, two pods in a pea,

An endless tale, of him, her and me,

Oh! heck with poetry, you were just meant to be.”

Ingredients

8 oz (220 gm) mascarpone cheese, at room temperature

1 cup coconut milk (refrigerate and remove the cream on top)

1 cup whipping cream

½ cup brown sugar

½ cup coconut flakes

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

2 packets ladyfinger biscuits (24-30 pieces)

2-3 tablespoons brandy or any fruit liqueur

½ cup strong sweetened espresso (or 3 tablespoons instant coffee + sugar in hot water)

Drinking chocolate for dusting

Method

Using an electric mixer or eggbeater, beat the cream, coconut milk, sugar, and vanilla in a large bowl until the mixture thickens slightly and soft peaks form. Slowly fold in the mascarpone into this. Keep aside.

Combine the espresso with the brandy / liqueur. Line your dessert bowl with half of the ladyfingers and soak them in the espresso. Make sure you get the corners soaked well. Spread half of the mascarpone mixture over the ladyfingers, and sprinkle some coconut flakes. Repeat the layering with the remaining ladyfingers, espresso, mascarpone mixture and coconut flakes. In the end, dust with cocoa powder. You can always add some fruit for colour- raspberries are my favourite! Cover and refrigerate overnight.

Tiramisu tastes better with time. I let it sit for at least 24 hours before a sneaky taste. After 48 it’s divine!

Leave a comment if you tried and enjoyed this easy easy dessert.