The Halwa Horror

 Some of you might have seen the picture below:

This dear Reader, is Badam Halwa (an Indian sweet made from almonds)

The lockdown is turning out to be an exercise in cooking and cleaning for me. While my mom is ok with some popcorn or sandwich or a couple of biscuits for snacks, my father.... Well my father has different ideas. 

We have made some stuff over the weekends, (yes, I include lunch in the things I have made) but undoubtedly the one that captivated and horrified me simultaneously has to be the Badam Halwa.

The beginning was innocent. The guy on YouTube said the preparation time was 45 minutes. Little did we realize that preparation time meant - prep, not actually cooking. 

We soaked the almonds in the water and started peeling them. We peeled, and peeled and then (yay!) peeled some more. Finally we had a bowl of white creamy almonds sans their brown covers. These were crushed with milk to form a creamy spread of sorts. I mentioned that we could just add chocolate to it and call it a day, but was stared down by my father real quick. 

 A thick bottomed vessel was slowly heated. This is where all logic seemed to disappear. What we were making here was supposed to be Almond Halwa. Where exactly was it mentioned to add a liter of milk?? Apparently it was. So in went the milk and some Ghee. When it began bubbling slightly all the creamy almonds were added to it. Then began the stirring.

We stirred. Um, that's about it. 

The End. 

Until next t-

Seriously though, we stirred a lot. I was told I did not know how to stir. The witch in me was rightfully insulted and I took it as a challenge to stir the cauldron mightily. It took us about an hour and half to see any change at all. Somewhere in this frenzy we added a whole bowl of sugar. 

And saffron. What is the deal with saffron?! It's expensive and I got to listen to my father asking me not be clumsy with it just as I dropped a strand. Only for him to promptly use up half the stock. I mean if it were that expensive wouldn't three or four strands suffice? It smelled odd, like a chemical. My father raved about it to no end. Have no idea what the deal was.

But I digress. We kept stirring, alternating hands and people. Ghee flowed like water into it, and the evil almonds seemed to slurp it all in. The mixture bubbled and started to splutter. Bits of hot almond, sugar and loads of dairy started stinging everyone in the kitchen. I glumly looked at my father... this human who was the reason for all my troubles and slowly tried leaving the kitchen. Sadly he caught on quick and gave me the stirring duty, which meant I was the one getting bathed in halwa juice. 

Finally, finally the mixture turned sluggish and translucent!

We all cheered and looked at the clock. It had been almost 2 hours since the heat was turned on and the stirring began. Our arms were sore, we were parched and frustrated. We poured the remaining stuff into a greased vessel. My father chopped loads of almonds to garnish it. I clicked some pictures, privately noting that this might be the last time I would be caught making Badam Halwa. 

I am not a fan of Indian sweets. They are a bit too sugary and rich for my taste. So it was with some trepidation that I tried the Halwa. I do admit the taste was unique. Likeable even! But I didn't think of almonds while eating it. Was it saffron? Was it the ghee? Perhaps I don't know what almonds taste like ? Who knows? 

Would it have tasted better or worse had we bought it from a store? I may never know. I don't think I want to. Never again halwa... never again. 

Until next time,
DragonRider