fish custard [and a wibbly-wobbly halloween]

Friday morning began with a much-needed lie-in until 10am, and still I didn't feel like getting up. Buried under comforters on a bed of pillows on an overcast, autumn morning... all I really wanted was a steaming mug of tea and a cookbook to read.

But, you know, on the day of a wibbly-wobbly Halloween get-together, you force yourself out of bed, do a bit of cleaning and laundering, turn some Madeleine Peyroux on the stereo, and simmer up some salted caramel.

Chelsea and Liz have had a few dinner parties already this semester, so Noosh and I decided it was our turn to host...something.

[Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.]

But really, Halloween weekend called for one thing and one thing only: a Doctor-Who themed party.

Not that, you know, all of my friends are fans. In fact, the vast majority haven't watched. So really, it was more of an excuse for me to wear a bow-tie and cook up some fish custard.

"Fish Fingers" and Custard
Adapted from The Comfort of Cooking and Bakingdom
Yields 4-6 servings custard, about 2 dozen fish fingers

For the salted caramel custard, you'll need:

• 4 cups whole milk
• 6 tbsp cornstarch 
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1 cup sugar
• 2/3 cup water
• 1 tsp salt

For the fish fingers, you'll need:

• 1 1/3 cup flour
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 cup [1 stick] butter, at room temperature
• 1/2 cup plus 2 tbsp confectioner's sugar
• 1 egg
• 1/2 tsp vanilla
• 5 graham cracker sheets
• 2 tbsp butter, melted
• 1 tbsp sugar

To prepare the custard:
In a medium-sized bowl, whisk 1/2 cup of the milk, the cornstarch, and vanilla until blended. In a large saucepan, heat water and sugar on medium-high heat until boiling. Don't stir, but swirl the pan around to mix. Once boiling, lower the heat so that the syrup is at  a simmer. Simmer until the caramel turns an amber color, add in salt, and swirl until incorporated, 8-10 minutes.

Remove the pan from the heat and slowly pour in the remaining 3 1/2 cups milk, whisking constantly, until combined. The sugar may clump up spectacularly, but that is okay. Return the pan to the flame and heat on medium-high heat until just boiling, and then reduce heat to a simmer. Whisk the mixture until the caramel dissolves and the mixture thickens a bit, about 10 minutes. Add in the cornstarch mixture and whisk on medium flame until the mixture thickens, about 5 minutes. Pour the custard into a large glass dish or other heat proof dish. Allow the custard to cool, at least 30 minutes, then cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 2-3 hours, until the custard has thickened fully and set.


To prepare the fish fingers: 
In a medium bowl, combine flour, baking powder, and salt. In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar on low speed, then increase to medium speed until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Add in egg and vanilla and mix, scraping down the sides of the bowl when necessary. Lower the speed and gradually add in flour mixture, mixing until just combined. Cover the top of the bowl in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. In a food processor, pulse the graham crackers, butter, and sugar until the mixture is crumbly and sticks together. Once cookie dough is chilled, roll into "fish fingers," about 2 inches long and 1/2 inch wide. The smaller the better, as they will expand quite a bit while baking. Roll the "fish finger" in the graham cracker mixture to "coat" and place on the baking sheet. Repeat with remaining dough, allowing about an inch space between cookies on the sheet. Bake for 14-16 minutes until golden brown. Allow cookies to cool on the sheet for about 5 minutes, then transfer cookies to a wire rack and let cool completely.

Serve "fish fingers" with custard. They taste splendid when eaten together, or either can be enjoyed separately. Allons-y!

Noosh and I first stumbled upon this recipe a few months ago, and immediately I fell in love. The graham cracker "coating" is absolutely brilliant, and give the cookies the appearance of honest-to-God fish fingers. Words cannot describe how enamored I am with these things. They taste fantastic as well, which is only a plus, really.

So after about 9 hours of cooking custard, baking fish fingers and jammie dodgers, listening to everything from Louis Armstrong to Don Omar with Noosh preparing the TARDIS door, our apartment was full of the sounds of laughter, chatter, music, The Green Lantern, Hello Kitty, and Freida Kalho, a rather disturbing-looking cockroach, unnamed doctors and Sabeen's-apartment-occupiers, hilarious and somewhat horrifying Bollywood dancing, and happy mouths munching on good food. A success in all senses of the word, over all.

And by the time we were done cleaning up by around 1:30, I promptly passed out and slept for about 9 hours straight.

And I've spent the vast majority of the hour and a half I've been up uploading photographs and listening to Cabin Pressure on Youtube [quite the brilliant radio show, sent to me by a sweet friend who knows of my utter obsession with Benedict Cumberbatch's brilliant theatrical timing and jaguar-hiding-in-a-cello voice], not really wanting to get out of my comfortable bed.

Having discarded the suit-jacket, the bow-tie, and the formal button-down, though, I must say it's nice not to have a career that requires me to dress up like a flamboyant British gentleman on a daily basis. Fun as it was, I'll leave it to the professionals.

I much prefer watching them from the comfort of my living room sofa.


Preferably with a bowl of fish custard in hand.

[one year ends and a journey begins] seviyan

“Great restaurants are, of course, nothing but mouth-brothels. There is no point in going to them if one intends to keep one’s belt buckled.”
- Frederic Raphael

If you've ever read this thing before, you'll know that I have an obsession with food. A rather obvious obsession with food. That's why I started this thing, really: to publicize my gastronomic antics in an outlet much preferable to texting friends miles away about a phenomenal slice of cake eaten at such-and-such restaurant, or sending camera-phone photos to my mother every time I bake something new and enthralling.

Granted, I still do occasionally resort to the texting method aforementioned, to friends who'd appreciate those antics without raising an eyebrow too high in question, if I've eaten something particularly delicious. It's just a love that should be shared, I think.

Anyway, that was 1 year ago. Exactly 365 days. 365 days since I first signed onto blogger and made this silly old thing. But it's grown to be more than just a silly old thing.

Still silly, of course, but more meaningful to me than I originally thought it'd be. Perhaps in my subconscious mind, it's a vain attempt at self-preservation. Perhaps it's a method of escaping from the trivialties of the day-to-day to a place where I don't feel obligated to do anything, really, and can stop thinking about the stresses of university. Perhaps it's because it's become way to learn, not only about baking and photography, but about life and about myself.


Or perhaps I just really, really, really like food.

No matter the reason, I'm happy to be here. I thought I'd keep this up for a few weeks, a few months at most, but it's become bigger than that. It's become a source of comfort, something I know will always be here for me to come to when I want to stop thinking. Something to remember things by, from vibrant photographs of blackberry flaugnarde to the lingering taste of apple pie on the tongue. Something that makes me appreciate Farmer's Market tomatoes and coffee dates with friends, espresso and lemon pound cake on the table.

I'm just...happy to be here, honestly. Not much more to say than that.

Aside from thank you, to you wonderful people. You wonderful people who read this silly old thing. And put up with my antics. And hopefully walk away with something afterward. A way to pass time in a dull lecture, a growling stomach, a new recipe, or maybe even a new perspective on something as ordinarily beautiful as food.

But enough of the sap. Cheese is for eating, after all. [shutup Sabeen]


Not only is today the 1-year anniversary of this blog, but it also happens to be Eid. So, obviously, as if I weren't already going to bake something in celebration, I knew it had to be something special. And so I decided to take a drive home for a bit, spend some time with mom, reminisce about Eids past [back when I could actually be home to celebrate], and cook some seviyan.

I really just love this stuff. Could eat it by the pot. Easily. I won't even notice how much of it I've eaten until there's none left, and then all I feel regrettable about is the fact that there was hardly enough for me. I've been downing this stuff since I was born, basically, and it's one of my all-time favorite sweet treats. Still, it's something mom only makes on special occasions, so when I was home this weekend for an early Eid celebration, I knew I wanted her to finally teach me the trade.

Granted, a lot of the weekend was spent cursing Irene for a loss of electricity, but therein lies the beauty of gas stoves.

Interestingly, mom says that a Pakistani woman is only considered of marriageable material if she can cook a good pot of seviyan. Wondering if I should be proud of myself for successfully accomplishing this supposed feat, or terrified of being married off in the near future.

Seviyan
Adapted from mom's recipe book

You'll need:

• half a gallon of whole milk
• 1 cup crushed vermicelli noodles
• 1 14-oz can sweetened condensed milk
• a pinch of ground cardamom
• 1 drop of kevra, if available [alternatively, 1 drop of rosewater works as well]
• chopped pistachios or almonds to garnish

In a large saucepan over medium flame, heat milk until just boiling. Lower the temperature to a gentle simmer. Stir in the crushed vermicelli noodles and stir. Keep stirring at a simmer for 40-50 minutes, until milk has thickened some. No need to stir continuously, but return frequently [every 5-10 minutes] as to make sure milk isn't boiling or burning. Be vigilant about scraping the sides and bottom of the pan.

After milk has thickened a bit, add in sweetened condensed milk and combine. Finally, add in kevra [or rosewater] and ground cardamom. Stir for another 5-10 minutes, to allow the sugar in the condensed milk to thicken the pudding further. Remove the pan from the heat and let rest for 5 minutes. Spoon pudding into serving dishes and top with ground nuts of choice. Be sure to do so before the skin forms on top of the pudding [which, by the way, is the best part]. Let pudding cool to room temperature, at least, before serving. Pudding tastes best after a few hours in the fridge, and will stay good, covered, for up to 5 days.

And now, this recipe leads me to my big blog project for the year [Two years? Three years? Deadlines have yet to been set, saying how it's unlikely they're to be met. But I digress].

So, I like to bake. Obviously. But more than that, I like trying new things. It's why I joined the Daring Bakers back in January; it gave me an excuse to bake things that I normally wouldn't have a reason to.

And now that this is the end of one year, and the beginning of another, I thought, "what better way to keep myself entertained during my third/fourth/post-grad year of college than to impose some sort of unreachable culinary goal that will inevitably leave me wondering why I've decided to undertake the challenge in the first place?"

Thus, I dub today the commencement of my blog project, Around the World in 50 Sweets. What am I going to do, you might ask? And did I really need to select such a corny title? Well, I am going to take a culinary tour around the world, starting in South Asia and the Middle East, traveling east through Asia and the Pacific Islands, Down Under, across the sea to South America, up north through Central America and the Caribbean to the good old' US of A, a short trip up to Canada, a boat ride across the Atlantic to Africa, a scenic backpacking trip through Europe, and finally through the Chunnel to the glorious United Kingdom. Fifty desserts to give myself and you all a taste of our world, one both enormously large and strikingly small, full of fantastic people with fantastic recipes to match. All with nothing but a whisk, mixing bowl, and a bag of sugar by side.

[Okay, so I'll have some flour and almond extract from time to time, but the above sounded more poetic. And yes, the title is staying.]

Is this crazy? Probably. Is this going to but an enormous dent in my bank account? Most certainly. Am I actually going to finish this by the end of my third year, as was my original vision? Hugely unlikely. Am I going to end up regretting this?

...well, that goes without saying. Mostly for my thighs. But at least the journey will be fun.


And so, I bring to you today journey number one, the place where my story begins, all told through a bowl of seviyan: Pakistan. Jasmine trees, Great Illustrated Classics, henna tattoos, calls to prayer, grandmothers and grandfathers, noisy rikshas, dusty streets, afternoon ceiling fans and hot summer nights. A homage to my parents. Childhood familiarity. My beginning.


A good place to start, I think.

dark chocolate pudding

I love sleeping in on Sundays, waking up to a bright sun streaming in through the blinds and lighting up the room. I love walking into the kitchen and not having to turn on any lamps, because the natural sunlight is enough to give the apartment a warm glow. I love opening the door to a fresh, cool breeze and knowing that spring is just inches away.

Not to mention that turning on the telly and finding out that it's abc's Harry Potter weekend is also a lovely surprise.

Though I suppose, in retrospect, this is probably the worst weekend for something as enticing as a Harry Potter movie marathon to be going on. It just diminishes my already lacking motivation to write start this paper I have due tomorrow.

Then again, since I will be referencing Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban in aforementioned paper, perhaps it's warm-up before I start. A sort of mental prep, if you will.

Dark Chocolate Pudding
Adapted from The Shoebox Kitchen

You'll need:

• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 cup half & half
• 2 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1/2 tsp vanilla
• 3/4 cup sugar [substitute with erythritol for a low-carb variation]
• pinch of salt
• 3 egg yolks
• 1 heaping tbsp cornstarch
• 2 oz unsweetened chocolate

In a medium saucepan over medium flame, heat heavy cream and half and half. Whisk in sugar, vanilla, salt, and cocoa powder until blended and most of the clumps are gone.

In a separate bowl, whisk egg yolks and cornstarch until smooth. Once chocolate cream mixture is warm, ladle a spoonful of the cream into the eggs and whisk continuously, to temper the eggs. Pour the now-warm egg mixture into the saucepan and whisk. Continue to whisk until the custard starts to bubble slightly. Remove saucepan from the heat and add in the unsweetened chocolate, whisking until melted.

Pour the custard into a food processor and blend for 60 to 90 seconds. This will eliminate any remaining clumps in the custard. Distribute the custard among glass bowls or ramekins. Cover the tops of the custards with plastic wrap and refrigerate until set, 2-3 hours.

Serve with sweetened whipped cream, if desired.

Still, it would probably be in my best interest to start that paper at some point today...

...well, maybe once this movie's over.