Fortunately, I've never had to wait for a special occasion to eat or cook special things. But there certainly is a hidden and then, visible pleasure in eating and cooking specific foods in celebration of a particular day or event in our lives or in time - often a tradition passed down generations. Kansaar is a dessert belonging to Gujarati cuisine that was made in our home and the homes of relatives in every corner I've known them to be and visited, as a sweet offering to mark anything happily eventful in our lives.
I first tasted it as an infant and was taught to cook it as an adolescent on the very visit that my aunt inducted me into the femininity I have come to own and carry.
Sharada Baa lived in a palatial home, an ancient stone structure in the quaint village of Vadhavana in the Western Indian province of Gujarat. She shepherded a social business to benefit the livelihoods of the women of her village and ran a home most efficiently.
One crisp winter morning, I awoke to the aroma of something I wanted to both instantly eat and never forget. It wasn't too many minutes past dawn; the sky not very different from dusk the previous evening when Sharada Baa stood on a stone staircase, lighting lamps that fit neatly into square pegs carved into its supporting stone wall.
I watched her then and listened intently as she shared with me,
"For me, femininity has always been about strength and fragility together."
As her niece who had witnessed her journey as homemaker and entrepreneur, I had come to understand that her idea of the feminine condition was about being as honest as possible about both sides - the need to have both in life, to balance each other - strength and fragility. That, and perhaps a little more sleep.
I wasn't sure she had had the latter, considering how early she was up and cooking. So, I crawled into the kitchen to take a look (also secretly hoping for a taste of what was being cooked).
Kansaar.
When I inquired what the occasion was. She simply said, feeding me a spoonful of sweetness, "Well, the fact that my idea of femininity will now become yours".
I knew then that sometimes the special occasion is simply a conversation - a bit of a revelation, a delicious revolution.
Her idea has stayed, as has her recipe, with me.
TO MAKE KANSAAR
You will need:
A bowl of wheat flour;
Three tablespoons of ground sugar;
A quarter of a bowl of ghee (clarified butter);
Three-quarters of a bowl of water;
A teaspoon of ground jaggery (if you wish).
To begin,
Pour a spoonful of ghee all over the pan.
Then, pour in the whole bowl of water.
Allow it to come to a boil and then add in another two spoonfuls of ghee.
And the teaspoon of ground jaggery, if you choose to.
Pour the remaining ghee into your bowl of wheat flour. Perhaps save only a spoon or two to use
later.
When your mixture on the stove has once again come to a boil,
Add in the wheat flour bit by bit.
Stir the mixture on a slow flame.
Place your pan on a tava and a lid on your pan so the mixture roasts just right.
Stir once again after about 2 minutes.
And then, re-place the lid on the pan for 5 more minutes.
Your mixture should be roasted and ready!
When you're ready to serve it (which is probably immediately),
Pour the remaining spoon or two of ghee over the roasted wheat flour,
(It would be ideal if the ghee were warm)
Add in the three tablespoons of ground sugar all over the mixture and mix it further.
And now, the special sweetness must be eaten.
