A Dinner Party Showstopper

মুরগি মুসাল্লাম
Murgi Musallam

A labour of love

I've had this dish a few times growing up, always at dinner parties where it would be the centrepiece at the table. It isn't something my family cooked themselves, so until recently I didn't have a recipe I could pilfer from anyone to post on the blog. Since moving to the UK, I roast chicken in the oven often enough, but usually the recipes I use are British or fusion-y concoctions, and I've always wanted to add this traditional Bangladeshi recipe to my repertoire. Although as a quick side note, I'm sure this murgi mussallam isn't uniquely Bangladeshi. Versions of this dish are common across South Asia and the word mussallam itself - meaning whole - isn't a Bengali word.  

Lucky for me, I was having dinner with my best friend's family one day when her mom brought a whole chicken to the table, boasting that she had cooked this on the hob rather than in the oven. I was ecstatic, not only because the dish was delicious, but I finally had someone who could teach me how to make it! Long story short, she shared the recipe below with me, but also ended up giving my younger brother and I a few practical lessons in cooking the dish during subsequent visits. It's quite a long and laborious process, so I have to admit I don't make this often. However, it's too delicious not to share, and if you're happy putting in the extra effort for a special occasion, the results are worth it.

Ingredients:

• A whole chicken, approximately 1.50 kg in weight
• 20.00 g freshly minced garlic
• 20.00 g freshly minced ginger
• 1.00 teaspoon of powdered turmeric
• 1.00 teaspoon powdered chilli
• 6.00 tablespoons of plain yoghurt
• 2.00 medium onions
• 200.00 ml whole milk
• 1.00 teaspoon of mace
• Half a nutmeg, grated
• A pinch of saffron
• 1.00 tsp of black pepper
• 2.00 cardamoms
• 1.00 clove
• 1.00 bay leaf

Method:

• Mix the turmeric, chilli, garlic and ginger with 4.00 tablespoons of yoghurt. Spread over the chicken and leave to marinate for at least two hours in the fridge, or ideally overnight
• Take the chicken out of the the first 15-20 minutes before cooking
• Add a large amount of oil to a pot, ideally non-stick, big enough to hold the chicken with a lid on
• Once the oil is hot, add the chicken, including the marinade
• Brown the chicken, letting the bird sit undisturbed on each side for about 7-8 minutes
• While chicken is browning, mince the onion - either by hand or in a food processor
• Once, the chicken is browned, add the minced onion to the pot, directly into the oil rather than onto the chicken
• Cook the chicken and onion on a medium-low heat for about 20-30 minutes, stirring the onion around occasionally so it doesn't burn
• While the chicken and onion and cooking, put a small pot onto the stove on medium heat 
• Once hot, add the nutmeg, mace and saffron and toast the spices for a couple of minutes before taking off the heat
• After the 20-30 minutes have passed, add the tempered spices into pot, mixing into the paste
• Add 50.00 ml of milk, again mixing in and flip the chicken. Turn the heat to low, cover and cook for 1.5 hours, adding milk every now and again and mixing it into the sauce when it begins to look dry
• During the cooking, move the chicken around so it doesn't stick and burn, either with a large ladle, or by gently shaking the whole pot. 
• Occasionally lift the lid on the pan and flip the chicken too so it doesn't only cook on one side, and spoon sauce over the whole thing before putting the lid back on
• After 1.5 hours, grind the black pepper, cardamoms, clove and bay leaf using a mortar and pestle or spice grinder. 
• Add this spice mixture to the chicken, along with the final 2.00 tablespoons of yoghurt. 
• Cook for a final 20 minutes before taking off the stove. 
• Serve while still hot with polao or your preferred carbs 

Additional Info:

There are as ever endless variations of this recipe. My friend's mom occasionally adds tomatoes to the sauce to give the dish a slightly tangy flavour, and stuffs the bird with a couple of boiled eggs before serving it with a garnish of salad. I know other recipes add nuts to the sauce as well for added richness, which I've tried before and it works quite nicely. However, this recipe is a lot of effort as it is so I've posted the simplest version I make! And if you want to make quite a bit easier, substitute the whole chicken for a chopped up one of about the same weight. 

A Dessert That Kept Me Alive

ডিমের জর্দা
Dimer Jorda

Dimer jorda, or halua

This is basically how I liked my eggs done as a child. Not that my family would let me have this regularly - with good reason - just look at how much sugar the recipe calls for! But deemer jorda (or deemer halua to some) is very easy to cook, and my mom or aunts would often rustle some up when they needed a quick, fuss-free dessert. During my university years, the cheap and common ingredients meant it often featured in my diet. A healthier home cooked substitute to store bought desserts, or so I told myself.

Nowadays I'm a little more restrained, and I see dimer jorda as an occasional indulgence. The easiness of the dish makes it a great go-to for when I've just cooked a large meal for guests, and need a little less stress with dessert. During our various lockdowns, I found myself eating it on occasion to give myself a reason to live break up the monotony of store bought treats - though before the pandemic I never would have imagined tiring of chocolate and ice cream.

The dish is meant to look a little like yellow rice - and so it's important to watch the egg cook and break it up at the right time. Do this wrong and you end up with a pan full of sweet scrambled eggs. And of course, while I've talked about dimer jorda as dessert, it's often also served as a tea-time snack. The recipe below serves 4. 

Ingredients:

• 4.00 eggs
• 125.00 g white sugar
• 125.00 ml evaporated milk or 250.00 ml whole milk
• 2.00 tablespoons of butter or ghee
• 1.00 "capful" vanilla essence, or to taste
• 2.00 cardamom pods
• 1.00 "capful" kewra water, or to taste, optional
• 2.00 cm of cinnamon, optional

Method:

• Leave the butter or ghee to soften at room temperature
• If using whole milk, begin by reducing this to half in a non-stick saucepan on medium heat. Stir frequently to ensure it doesn't stick or burn. Once done, leave to cool
• Beat the eggs and sugar lightly with a fork until mixed, making sure there are no remaining clumps of egg white
• Follow up by pouring in the cooled reduced whole milk or evaporated milk, and again mix to incorporate
• Put a frying pan on medium low heat, adding the butter or ghee. Once warm, add the cardamom and (if using) cinnamon - then continue frying for a couple of minutes  
• Transfer egg, sugar and milk mixture to the frying pan
• Mix everything together, and let cook on low heat, stirring continuously
• Add the vanilla (and kewra water, if using) at the 5 minute mark, and continue cooking
• After 10 minutes the mixture should start solidify into loose, slimy clumps - break these up by stirring, and ensuring the clumps look like approximations of rice grains
• Cook until all of the jorda clumps into something that looks like mushy rice - this can take up to another 20-30 minutes
• Cooking times will vary based on the size of the saucepan - a larger, wider dish will let the jorda cook faster
• Once done, transfer out of the saucepan immediately to halt the cooking process
• Serve as a snack during tea or as a dessert, garnish with raisins and crushed pistachios

Additional Info
Dim (or should it be deem??) is the Bengali word for egg, and there are countless variations of this recipe, often called dimer "halua" rather than "jorda", based on national and regional variations. People have numerous methods of manipulating the texture, from the use of breadcrumbs to the addition of powdered milk, or adding food colouring to make the dish pop. I've kept this recipe very simple, but do look around for other versions to find what you personally prefer.

Family Food Fights

মুরগির কলিজা 

Curried Chicken Liver

Chicken liver and potato swimming in deliciously spicy jhol :) 

Organs and innards aren't everyone's cup of tea. While heart, lungs and offal are part of everyday Bangladeshi cooking, I know many people who pass on these options. Which is their loss, as far as I'm concerned. I was introduced to animal innards early in life, and I am a big proponent of cooking and consuming them. After all, as people who eat meat, we should make efficient use of the animals we (indirectly) kill. I eat everything from cow's intestines to chicken's feet and goat's lung, and in fact, intestines are a particular favourite in my family! 

The most common organs at my table, however, come from the humble chicken. While I was growing up, everything from the head and brain, to the heart, gizzard and other parts I have no English translations for, would be cooked into our everyday chicken dishes. And that would set off the fighting between siblings and cousins, as we tried to decide who would get to eat what. The head seemed to be most people's prime target, though for me, the prize was always the liver. And with no one else interested, I grew up stuffing my face with the liver from every chicken cooked at home. For me, chicken liver with its soft, fluffy texture is like an amazingly meaty, savoury cake. And I love it just as much as I love cake.  

Calamity struck when we moved abroad though, where supermarket chickens were sold without livers. The next few years of my life were spent devoid of chicken liver, except during the visits back home, or after the odd trip to particular butchers. However, it seems more and more supermarkets in Britain (where I currently live) stock liver as a standalone product. This has meant a return to cooking liver curry for me. The spicing I favour is similar to most other Bangladeshi curries, though the amounts of each spice is toned down in comparison. Chicken liver cooks easily, and doesn't need the super-charged treatment that cow or goat liver might warrant. The recipe below is for 400.00 g - the standard weight sold near me. This technically serves two generously as a main dish, but as liver is rather rich I'd recommend it as a side dish shared amongst a few more. 

Vegan Bangladeshi

নিরামিষ

Mixed Vegetables

Mixed vegetables with panch phoron

Don't worry about the title, I've not gone vegan. I'm just finally confident enough about my veggie cooking skills to share this recipe. I'm not sure quite why it took me so long to get here, but vegetables don't come to me as naturally as meat. I find it more difficult to get the flavours right, and the cooking times correct. However, I am trying to eat more of them, while at the same time cutting down on meat for health and environmental reasons. Right now I'm helping this process along with a bright and interesting recipe for mixed vegetables with panch phoron, a staple of most Bangladeshi kitchens. Aside from simple turmeric-and-chilli stir fries and hearty mashes, this is how I'd expect vegetables to be eaten in a Bangladeshi household. In our family, vegetables cooked this way could be served for breakfast, lunch or even dinner - though hopefully never all on the same day!

Panch phoron is a five-spice mix consisting of cumin, fennel, fenugreek, black mustard and nigella seeds. If you're not in Bangladesh, don't fret. The mix is commonly stocked in many Asian corner stores and supermarkets around the world. Of course, you can always make up your own mixture, using each component in equal amounts. My most vivid memories of panch phoron are from its use in pickle-making, along with cooking vegetables like this. In my mind, panch phoron is to cooking what colour-blocking is to the fashion world. In most dishes I make, the spices come together and create a unique new flavour - like a colour-coordinated school uniform. It's not so with panch phoron, where instead it feels like the different flavours all compliment and bounce off each other. If you're not Bangladeshi, this spice mix may feel like an acquired taste. 

The recipe below is quite long, but only because I've broken it down into simple, easy-to-follow steps. I would advise not using store-bought garlic and ginger pastes here. The short cooking time won't rid them of their vinegar-y smell. You wouldn't normally encounter chickpeas in this dish, but the eateries near my late nani's all make their shingara fillings this way. Inspired by them, I've included chickpea in my recipe too. It adds some protein, and helps me turn this into a one-dish dinner for weeknights.

Finally, a few notes on the cooking times. These will vary depending on the vegetables used. Fresh, younger plants will cook faster than the older and tougher. Equally, there will be differing opinions on what constitutes "cooked". Some people prefer everything in this dish to go soft and mushy, while others prefer their vegetables to retain a slight crunch. In our family, we opt for the crunchier version of this dish, unless we're serving it for breakfast. For breakfast, we cook this for longer than stipulated below, and with more water. The end result would be soft dollops of vegetable and a tiny bit of broth - ideal for scooping up with ruti! Do experiment with timings and combinations that suit your own preferences. The recipe below serves 4 as part of a larger Bangladeshi meal. 

Basic Bangladeshi Greens, Part 1 of n

Swiss Chard with Mustard & Fennel Seeds

সরষে ও মৌরি দিয়ে সুইস চার্ড 

Messy but delicious

I bought Swiss chard by mistake the other week. Embarrassingly, when I got home and unpacked my groceries, I didn't recognise the plant for what it was. I tentatively trimmed and washed some of it, then cooked it into mac & cheese. I was counting on the smoked cheese from my sauce to cover up any weird tastes or smells. It turned out the apprehension was unnecessary, as eventually someone on Instagram confirmed it was just chard! Chard I could work with, and I initially contemplated cooking the remaining plants just like spinach. Our family relies on the tried and tested garlic-and-chilli combo to cook most of our leafy vegetables, expect for maybe potato leaves and thankuni patha. 

But then I reconsidered, and began wondering how I could incorporate mustard into the dish. I've been a little obsessed with mustard since moving to Scotland, and I go through this thought process for pretty much everything I cook now. I decided ground mustard seeds would work quite nicely as a base flavour, with some fennel seeds as complement. I rounded off the ingredients list with a little turmeric for colouring, and some sliced onion to ease the frying process. The result was a win: think soft pieces of plant peppered with caramelised onion, each mouthful accentuated by a slight prickly heat from the mustard. I'm definitely adding this to my regular vegetarian repertoire. Speaking of which, I'm hoping to post more recipes for easy to cook greens, hence the title of this post. The recipe below makes enough for 2 as a small side, but scales up quite easily. 

Review: Royal Thai Restaurant London

Amazing Thai food tucked away near King's Cross

King prawn pad kee mao - noodle heaven! 

I've never lived in London long enough to discover its hidden secrets, those amazing little places tucked away in the nooks and crannies of the big city. Instead, I've done the next best thing, which is to rely on my more local friends for their insider information. And that's how I found Royal Thai. A friend suggested we drop by one night, promising that I'd be impressed by the food despite my teenage years in Thailand. And indeed I was, so much so that I insisted that we come here for dinner again the next time we met. The venue has now become a regular fixture for me - I've made several visits with friends and family, and its the first recommendation I make for Thai food in the British capital.  

Review: Darjeeling Express

Home Comforts in Soho

Methi Chicken, polao and a side salad

I’m glad central London finally has an Indian restaurant like Darjeeling Express. I’ve been eating at various Bengali (read: Bangladeshi) restaurants in the British capital for a while, and most of what I’d recommend is in East London. While many of these places do great food, like Amar Gaon or Dhaka Biryani, they’re small and geared towards casual meals. But Darjeeling Express is a fully-fledged restaurant, and somewhere I could go if I needed a smarter dinner venue. Even better is the fact that I wouldn’t be making any compromises on the food - the kitchen here produces amazing Bengali (and other Indian) dishes, despite its trendy Carnaby Street location. 

Dhaka-Style Biriyani

মাটোন বিরিয়ানি 

Mutton Biriyani

Biriyani served normally, i.e. not in a flour casing,
because my house isn't try-hard Indian restaurant

This is going to be one of those epic recipe posts. Not so much because I'm going to waffle, but rather because the recipe itself is so long it may as well be a novel. Biriyani I believe needs little introduction: a dish that mixes meat and rice, possibly of Persian origins, it has travelled throughout South and Southeast Asia, and most regions nowadays produce their own varieties. The recipe below is what my mom cooks at home, and is close to what I could call Dhaka-style biriyani - though it is not identical to what you'd get from traditional roadside eateries. I've been building up to this post for a while, watching people cook biriyani and even cooking it with more experienced friends whenever possible. I wanted to wait till I was a reasonably competent cook before I had a go at this myself, so that I wouldn't mess it up and could post an actually workable recipe. 

As luck would have it my mom visited me earlier this year, so the photos you see are of what we cooked together and the recipe below has been signed off by her. A few words of advice though - I used 1.50 kg of meat for 1.00 kg of rice - but be as generous (or stingy!) as you want with the meat to rice ratio. My mom wanted to go for 2.00 kg of meat to 1.00 kg of rice, but I convinced her we shouldn't be eating quite so much red meat. The liver I used is definitely optional - the only way liver ends up in Dhaka biriyani is if there isn't enough of it to make a standalone curry. But liver in biriyani is a weakness of mine, and therefore a quirk in our household. Biriyani houses in Dhaka serve each portion of the dish with potatoes, a boiled egg and a side salad - but I don't mention the egg anywhere below because I don't like eggs have a complicated relationship with eggs.

Finally, I know restaurants around the world serve various types of biriyanis with chicken, fish, vegetables etc., but those didn't really exist back home until recently. Chicken biriyani isn't a thing for example - instead we have a lighter chicken and rice combo sold by biriyani houses called morog-polao (morog meaning chicken). Similarly, we have a fish-based ilish-polao, though this is mostly cooked at home. The spice combinations for these two dishes are different from traditional Dhaka biriyani, and I'm not sure how I would go about cooking them. If you're feeling adventurous, perhaps try cooking a more heavily spiced version of my classic chicken curry into your polao - but you're on your own with that kind of experimentation (though do let me know the results!). 

Completing the Classic Sweetmeat Trio

গোলাপ জাম 

Golap Jaam

Golap jaam in rose and cardamom syrup,
served with crushed pistachio

This post about golap jaam (and by extension kalo jaam) feels like a big milestone. Being able to cook these sweets, along with roshogolla, completes an important trio of Bengali sweetmeats that I grew up with. Roshogolla, golap jaam and kalo jaam were the safe, go-to desserts in our family, bought en masse for special occasions, celebrations and the traditionally Asian practice of delivering sweets with good news. They are rarely cooked at home in Bangladesh. All three are milk-based, but while roshogolla is traditionally made from boiled cheese curd, golap and kalo jaam are made from deep-fried milk solids. The difference between golap and kalo jaam is the sugar added to kalo jaam, which creates a dark, caramelised outer layer during the frying process. Some sweet shops even add purple food colouring to their kalo jaam, making it look more like the fruit it is named after. This recipe is obviously not all that traditional, constrained by ingredient availability and practicality outside Bangladesh. It grew from a mishmash of recipes collected by word of mouth, with ingredient amounts cross-referenced from various sources online. As such, I don’t really want to claim it as mine. I do, however, want to highlight a few things I learned from cooking these sweets multiple times. First, to address the various horror stories of disintegrated dumplings or sweets with uncooked centres: I think these are more the result of our habits – not writing down recipes and estimating ingredients! If you’re a beginner, then yes, these sweets will be a challenge. But if you’re a fairly regular cook, used to forming dough and deep frying, there’s not much to worry about here. The “dough” from the recipe below doesn’t disintegrate easily, even with slight cracks, as long as you add enough milk to hold it together. 

Kalo jaam in syrup
Some of these were overcooked, some were burnt
Hard to tell them apart in my opinion

Also, make sure you have enough oil for the dough balls to properly float in; otherwise they will burn at the bottom where they touch your pan. While making golap jaam, you can quite comfortably cook the sweets on medium-low heat for some time without any burning. And if do you start to burn them, it’ll be obvious from the blackening on the dough – immediately take the pan off the heat and scoop out the sweets.  And if you undercook them, leaving a hard, uncooked lump in the middle, boiling and soaking the sweets in syrup will usually soften your centre. It only gets difficult, in my opinion, with the kalo jaam: it’s hard to tell while frying whether the dark (almost black) sweets are the result of sugar caramelising or actual burning. I’ve found no way around this, apart from making sure I have plenty of light directed towards my stovetop! My second note is on ingredients (the below amounts make approximately 20 sweets). I haven’t specified the fat content of the milk in the recipe, largely because I have obtained similar results whether I opted for whole or semi-skimmed. I like to think this is because the fat content is mostly provided by the double cream. Despite the very non-traditional approach here, the end result feels surprisingly authentic (a dangerous word!). Of course, the sweets will be lacking the earthy flavours of ghee made on a kindling stove, and the rich flavours of raw, unrefined sugar – fortunately the rose and cardamom will go a long way in masking those “deficiencies”. And with that, I feel like my Bangladeshi dessert repertoire has grown a strong backbone. Time to move onto shandesh! 

Cake & Biskie in Soho

Review: Cutter & Squidge

Biskies: a Cutter & Squidge creation.
Think of a soft cookie & cake dessert sandwich :)

Some of the earliest reviews I posted on this blog were about cake in Bangladesh. I've written (and complained!) about dessert at many venues since, but I've never really posted about any other bakeries or confectioners. I admit I've gotten into a habit of depending on chains and supermarkets. Trouble is, while I know independents that do good coffee, their sweets are rarely worth a special mention. Cutter & Squidge bucks that trend completely. They serve amazing cake and a nifty invention of their own called a biskie - best described as a mini cookie and cake sandwich. I first found them by chance one night in Soho, when we were walking around after an early dinner in search of something sweet. This was always a normal thing to do in Asia, where cafés and the like open late, but everything shuts so early in the UK! Luckily Cutter & Squidge had the right idea, and their then pop-up was still open around 8 pm. I bought myself a huge slice of their Choc O'Berry Dream Cake, which turned out to be extremely delicious. The cake itself was rich and moist, with generous helpings of flavoured cream filling the layers and covering the outside. Fast forward a few months and they now have a permanent store on Brewer Street in Soho, which is great news for anyone with a sweet tooth. Their new store opens later than most cafés, which remains a plus, though bear in mind it's not late enough for post-dinner dessert. 

The interior, bright and expressive.
More seating than some of the other similar shops
in the area, but I can see it getting busy.

I've visited several times with friends, squeezing into the relatively small space. The venue has a few tables at the back, along with some counter-style seating by the windows. The interior, as seen in the photo above, makes me think "bright-plastic-happy", and while I realise it won't be to everyone's taste I feel its true to Cutter & Squidge's overall branding. The store operates the usual pick and pay at the counter approach, and staff will bring over your drinks or order if it's not something they can just hand you over the counter. Apart from cakes and biskies, the menu on the wall lists a small selection of hot and cold drinks, as well as a few sandwiches. Notably, they do a salted caramel matcha latte - which is great as even today there are too few places in London that serve matcha lattes. If you order one just remember to stir the drink properly, as otherwise you'll finish a rather bland cup like my friend, only to discover all of the caramel left at the bottom!

"OMG It's Green":
green tea and raspberry "Dream Cake"

Eating as a group meant has meant I've sampled quite a bit of what Cutter & Squidge has to offer, and almost everything has been as impressive as that first Choc O'Berry cake. Amongst the cakes, the Banoffee and the Chocolate and Hazelnut stand out as excellent takes on classic flavours. I've also tried the OMG It's Green pictured above, and while I liked it, I remember wishing for a slightly stronger flavour flavour. Amongst the biskies, the rich Salted Caramel Brownies or lighter S'mores are safe choices. I'm torn between what I like more here, the cakes or the biskies, but a Key Lime Pie biskie my partner once had is definitely my favourite. Imagine two layers of soft biscuit with a filling of lime curd and vanilla cream cheese, finished off a crunchy meringue topping! Unfortunately this was a special edition, and I've not seen it since. This is something to bear in mind about Cutter & Squidge - they do rotate what's on offer any given day, and not all the flavours you see online are always available at the store. 

Close-up: a S'more biskie

There is also the issue of almost Marmite-like personal preferences to the food they serve. I love my cakes to be lavished drenched in cream and frosting, but I know not everyone does. I also love the soft cookie dough texture of the biskies, along with their cream/sauce/curd garnishes. Yet I have friends who aren't fans - apparently the biskies' soft and hard textures feel odd. Just a little something to be aware of before making a visit. And speaking of visiting - a note on the costs. Biskies cost around £4.50 each and a slice of cake will cost almost £6. These prices won't come as a surprise once you experience (i.e. have trouble consuming) the generous portions, but they're still a bit higher compared to other stores. Given the quality of the confectionery, I wouldn't have minded, but prices for their full cakes online verge on the ridiculous and they lose points for that. Carry outs cost a little less, and the price of hot and cold drinks are quite competitive. But of course, you're not coming here for drinks!


Food: 8/10

Service: 7/10

Atmosphere: 7/10

Value: 5/10

Final Score: 7/10

Contact Information

A: 4 Brewer Street, Soho, London, W1F 0SB
T: +44 (0)20 7371 7056
W: www.cutterandsquidge.com

NB. The final score, while influenced by the sub-scores, is a qualitative reflection of my overall impression of the establishment.

Review: Amar Gaon

Authentic Bangladeshi Food in Brick Lane

King prawns with spinach, sprinkled with coriander

Finding a good Bangladeshi food joint in the UK has been a long-elusive personal goal. There was Grameen Khana during my time in Birmingham, and then Kolapata when I moved to London. The former was more a curry house serving a limited selection of Bangladeshi dishes, while the latter leaned towards being a proper Bangladeshi restaurant. However, neither was very good, and so I'm glad I finally made it to Amar Gaon in East London. 

An unassuming storefront

Given its Brick Lane location, it may be hard to believe Amar Gaon serves anything other than generic curry house fare. But the store sits within a cluster of typically Bangladeshi shops on the road, away from gentrified Shoreditch. And yes, I did write store: Amar Gaon is actually something like a general store combined with a canteen style eatery, where food is pre-prepared and served from a counter. There's quite a variety on offer, with everything from simple chicken curries to dishes with more obscure regional ingredients on display.

Review: Mang Inasal

Filipino Barbecue Chicken

Grilled chicken, steamed rice wrapped in banana leaf,
a sachet of soya sauce and a sliced kalamansi. Food
from Mang Inasal served at home.

This post is a recommendation for Mang Inasal, rather than a full review. As such I won't be scoring as I usually do. I was going through my old photos of time spent in Manila this weekend, and I came across pictures of food that I really enjoyed and think others should try as well. Take this as a product of nostalgia more than anything else.

Part of me finds it hard to believe that I'm writing about a chain for my blog, but truth be told there are several chains worldwide that I often rely on for good food. It's for the usual reasons - consistent branding means that you know what you're getting when you walk in. And at Mang Inasal (Hilgaynon for Mr. Barbecue), what you're getting is simple but scrumptious grilled meats and fish served with rice and condiments. Much like any fast food chain, orders are placed and paid for at the counter. Food can be eaten in the restaurant itself or taken away. I've done both over my time in the Philippines - and as with any chain expect crowds during peak hours. 

Some More for the Party Menu

গাজরের হালুয়া 

Carrot Halua

Toffee infused carrot halua 

The word halua applies to a whole group of desserts, similar to how the word cake works in English. Just like you can have different types of cake, you can have different types of halua. In Bangladesh, halua is commonly made from lentils, bread, carrots etc., amongst other things. I'm a fan of most variations, but the carrot halua holds a special place in my heart for its quirkiness - after all, this is dessert made from a vegetable. The idea of carrot halua didn't initially appeal to me, but once I tried it I was hooked. 

The recipe below is a short and simple, substituting condensed milk for the traditional whole milk. This makes it easier to follow than a lot of other recipes but beware - it's hugely unhealthy and full of sugar. However, it works great served in small portions, making it an ideal bite-size party dish. It's usually served with a crushed pistachio or raisin garnish back home, and in British restaurants I've had it warm served with vanilla ice cream. 

Back to Basics

ঝাল করে মুরগীর মাংস
Spicy Chicken Curry

I hope from now on all my photos look this good!

I haven't blogged about food in a while, instead opting to regurgitate old reviews saved on my hard drive. There is a reason for this though: it's hard to blog about food you've been cooking if, well, you haven't been cooking. For the past couple of months I've been travelling quite a bit, living out of hotels, eating out and such. The brief periods I have been home have been spent doing chores or catching up with friends - both of which have pushed cooking out of the way.

Looking at the months ahead in my calendar however, I've realised that the intermittent travelling isn't going to stop any time soon. So if I still want to keep this going (as well as eat healthy, home cooked food as opposed to supermarket takeaways!), I'm just going to have to make time for both cooking and the blog no matter what my schedule.

With that in mind, I decided to attempt a very basic Bangladeshi chicken curry today to get back in the swing of things. This is the kind of simple, everyday dish that's cooked in many households. The recipes are probably slightly different depending on who you ask - but this one is my own, based on memory from what mom used to cook at home and experimentation. It's basic flavour is derived from the cumin. Enjoy.

From My Grandma's House

Coconut Sprinkled with Sugar

This is an old favourite of mine that I first had at my grandma's house in Bangladesh. It's basically freshly grated coconut sprinkled with (a lot of) white sugar. And no, it's just not the same with dried or tinned coconut!

This particular coconut came with us from my dad's ancestral home in Salop, Sirajganj - a rather interesting trip that I intend to blog about later.

More Fusion: An Experimental Sorbet

Spiced Tamarind Sorbet

Spiced tamarind sorbet with henna leaves (because we couldn't find anything else for garnish!)

Tamarind based drinks are pretty common in Bangladesh. They're usually served cold and spiced to provide relief from the summer heat. Summer temperatures easily surpass 35 degrees Celsius here (even though Google lies and insists it's 28 degrees!) and as such, I imagined a sorbet would be an even more welcome comfort. I've been looking up sorbet recipes from around the web, and I'm adapting this recipe from the Coconut Raita blog's Tamarind and Lime Sorbet post. I'm pretty proud of it - it's essentially replica of our family's usual tamarind drink in sorbet form, and it's even been given a thumbs up by my grandma who's notoriously snobby about good food!

Introducing: my love for chocolate

Toblerone

I've always been a big fan of chocolate. I like the taste. I like that I can just pop down to the local shop and buy some, instead having to cook it from scratch like so many other things! However, I don't like all chocolate, so I thought I'd do a few posts with my favourites. For today, I'm uploading a picture of Toblerone, one of my earliest and oldest favourites, probably since age four. And no this isn't a cop out, I promise I'll start work on a proper recipe post later today!

However, I don't like getting the nougat stuck between my teeth....