The bel tree was not my favourite tree in Grandmas backyard. Well, far from it.
And there was ample reason for that.
Dada, full of naughty mischief, had one lazy afternoon, narrated to me how he had seen a ghost on the bel tree one new moon night. When ominous nimbus clouds had blotted out the silver moon and the twinkling stars.
And there was she, he animatedly described, an old lady with a toothy grin and a cascade of silver hair, draped in a white saree with a broad crimson border, sitting on that branch of the bel tree and dangling her legs. He pointed to an ancient branch of the bel tree, quite a distance away from the daalan where we sat.
A shudder ran down my spine.
And what did u do when u saw her ?
I screamed for help. And ran as if there was no tomorrow. Till I reached the house.
So do think twice, he said seriously, before venturing out once the sun has set.
You saw her just once ? I asked. Cowering in fear.
No, he responded, I did see her on quite a number of occasions after that. But made sure I never wandered anywhere close to that bel tree post dusk.
And so, new moon or not, I avoided trespassing near the bel tree as much as I could.
And this fear remained firmly ingrained in me till my early teens.
When I finally comprehended that this had been yet another of Dadas pranks on a naive me.
But there would be that occasional Monday when Grandma would need bel pata for her Shib Pujo. And if no one else was around, the task of fetching those perfect bel pata (three leaves, like the eyes of the Goddess, no stains, no tears, Grandma would remind me before every errand I ran, although by now I knew this by heart) would fall on me. And gripped by primal fear, I would stutter and stammer and dole out excuse after excuse to avoid an encounter with the spooky tree (It’s too hot outside, I cannot find my slippers Grandma, The leaves are too high for me to reach) But Grandma was omniscient. She knew my fear and she was determined to guide me to conquer my fears.
Well, I’ll stand right here, she would comfort me, no ghost can dare harm my princess when I am around. And so I would sprint to the bel tree, look out for that perfect leaves, tear them with a jerk and sprint back again. Not looking back once till I was in the safe sanctuary of Grandmas arms.
And then there would be days when Manikkaka would spot a plump luscious bel hanging up there in the branches and using a long stick that he kept tucked away in a cobweb-speckled corner of the shed, would lunge at the fruit. As the fruit, nudged by the stick, disengaged from its parent branch, Dada would dramatically appear out of nowhere and make a theatrical dash to catch the bel and prevent it from landing onto the ground.
Back in the kitchen, Grandma would crack open the bel, patiently extract the gorgeous orange yellow pulp from the caverns of the fruit, place it in one of her muslin cloths and hang it from the threatening hook on the wall for the water to drain.
How much longer ? Dada and I would keep checking, as tiny droplets of water appeared on the surface of the muslin and pulled by the magic of gravitation, made their way to the bowl left on the floor to collect the water.
Patience my children, Grandma would smile. The fruits of patience are always sweeter.
Finally the pulp would be mixed in home-made yogurt that Didi had made the night before, a splash of water and some spices added. Before being poured into tumblers for Bapi, Dada and me. And if we had been good, we would be rewarded with that one cube of ice. That would be painstaking extracted from the white plastic ice tray of our new Godrej fridge. (Just one, no more, you don’t want to wake up with a sore throat tomorrow, Maa would remind sternly)
It would be a blink of an eye before the tumblers were empty, the bel pana whisker wiped off with the swish of the palm and we were requesting for a second helping.
Of course you can, Grandma would offer, give me your glasses.
But did you check if there’s enough for Grandma, Maa, Didi and Manikkaka ? Bapi would remind.
We were in no mood to listen though.
As I make Bel Pana this morning for the you-cannot-refuse Bel Pana Tart, memories go back to those happy afternoons in Karimganj. The bel tree. The ghost who appeared on new moon nights. The scout for perfect bel leaves. And those refreshing glasses of Bel Pana with a touch of Grandmas magic spices.
Bel Pana Tart. Buttery tart, perfectly baked to a sublime golden. A divine bel pana filling. A hint of black salt. Food heaven.
Desserts with seasonal fruits are my weakness for sure. If you too have a sweet tooth, give my Thakurbarir Mango Pudding and Lichur Payesh a try for sure.
Bel Pana Tart
Ingredients
For the shortcrust pastry
- 280 g plain flour
- 130 g unsalted butter cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
- 1 tbsp powdered sugar
- a pinch of salt
- 6-8 tbsp cold water
For stuffing
- 300 g bel pulp from 1 ripe bel or wood apple
- 150 g hung yogurt yogurt hung in a muslin cloth for 3-4 hrs
- 70 g powdered sugar
- a pinch of black salt
For decoration ( optional)
- 100 ml heavy cream
- 30 g powdered sugar
Instructions
For the shortcrust pastry
- In a bowl, combine the flour, sugar and salt . Add the butter cubes. Lightly mix with your fingers until the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs.
- Add cold water to the flour mixture, 1 tbsp at a time . Mix till the dough just comes together. Do not over-mix.
- With light hands, make a rough ball with the dough, wrap with cling film and refrigerate for 4 hrs. (even better overnight)
- Remove the dough from the refrigerator, keep outside for 15 minutes or so.
- Divide the dough roughly into 8 equal balls . Using a roller pin, roll out each dough ball to a round disk with 1/4” thickness.
- Place the dough disk in a greased mini tart pan. Gently press to give it the shape of the mould. Trim away any excess from the edges . Prick the bottom with a fork.
- Refrigerate the tart shell for 45 minutes.
- Put some pie weights on the shell (if you don’t have pie weights, you can put a baking parchment on the top of the crust and add some kidney beans for the weight) and bake them in a preheated oven for 12-15 minutes at 180C.
- Remove the tart shells from the oven the take out the pie weights.
- Return the tart shells to the oven, bake for another 12-15 minutes or until the shells become a light golden.
- Remove from the oven, allow them to cool down completely. Keep aside.
For the wood apple / bel pulp
- Gently crack the outer shell of the wood apple (like you crack a coconut). Remove the seeds gently along with slimy translucent jelly like thing surrounding it.
- Scoop out the flesh in a bowl. Splash a little water, massage the pulp to soften.
- Now keep rubbing the softened flesh against a sieve to extract the bel pulp. Continue splashing water and rubbing it till there’s no further pulp.
- Tie the pulp in muslin cloth and hang for 3-4 hrs or till all the water is drained . Do not skip this step.
For the wood apple / bel filling
- Transfer the wood apple / bel pulp to a mixing bowl, add the hung yogurt, powdered sugar and black salt. Mix well with a whisk till the mixture becomes creamy and smooth and there are no lumps.
- Feel free to add more sugar if you want. Your bel panna mix is ready.
- Cover with a clean film, keep refrigerated until use.
To assemble
- Take the baked pie crust, gently fill it with the bel panna mix.
- Whip heavy cream with powdered sugar till it forms soft peaks. Decorate with whipped cream.
- Keep in the refrigerator for an hour, serve cold.
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