It’s the morning after the kalboishakhi.
Grandma is at work, hunched over the pile of green mangoes Didi had foraged last evening from the backyard once the ravage of the storm had subsided. It had been a fearsome night, the theatre of the lightning and thunder keeping me glued to Grandma as sheets of rain smudged the distant horizons and pummelled the helpless earth. Like a fiendish ogre desperate to exact revenge for all the wrongs done to her.
Grandma patiently picks up each mango, inspects it like a seasoned gemologist studies a precious stone and places it in one of the many disciplined mounds that lie ahead of her. Using an algorithm that only her grey cells can harness.
I might be just eleven, but I know the routine well.
Each pile is meant for a different purpose – Aamer mishti aachar, Aam tel, Aam panna – the list is long. Grandma is ensuring the right mangoes, ripened to just the right level that the dish warrants, are reserved for the right purpose.
The mangoes now proceed to be scrubbed diligently by Didi, till the last vestiges of mud and grime have been washed and the mangoes bear no reminiscence of the kalboisakhi carnage last evening.
Fast forward to the next afternoon.
I return from school to the most alluring smells wafting out of the kitchen.
Grandma is at work.
She is roasting each mango over the dying embers of the oonoon. When the skin of the mango looks sufficiently charred, she picks it up using a pair of tongs, places it into the caverns of a wide-mouthed kaansi before placing the next mango over the open flame.
Once the mangoes have all been char-grilled, the wrinkled soot-dark skins are carefully peeled off and the pulp extracted into a bowl.
Before Grandma can even restrain me, I, as swift as an eagle swooping on a prey, dip my little finger into the bowl, extract a generous dollop of the roasted mango puree, still not cooled down, and stick it into my mouth.
Grandma, I am sanguine, is far from pleased but she doesn’t display any of it.
How do you manage to do this ? I quiz her, licking my finger clean.
Grandma doesn’t respond. She smiles.
The pulp now disappears into a Kadhai, sprinkled with a tantalising array of just-roasted-and-pounded spices and left aside to cool.
I know the drill.
Bapis favourite Aam Pana is in the making. The spiced mango purée shall be scooped into an assortment of tall glasses, otherwise perched in that topmost shelf of the dining room cabinet, out of reach of Dada and me, topped with water, stirred vigorously and served, if we were lucky, with a couple of ice cubes.
And that scorched mango, mashed with love and a potpourri of wicked spices, is the muse, the inspiration behind my Aam Pora Panna Cotta.
Aam Porar Panna Cotta
Ingredients
Method
- Roast the green mango over a medium flame till it is charred and softened.
- Allow it to come down to room temperature. Gently peel the charred skin. And squeeze out the pulp.
- Take 1/2 cup Aam pora pulp and 1 cup water, add it to a blender to make a smooth mix.
- Pour the smoothened pulp to a deep bottomed pan.
- Add the fresh cream, a pinch of black salt and powdered sugar. Whisk till everything is well incorporated into the aam pora-cream mixture. Feel free to add some more sugar if you want.
- Dissolve the gelatin in 1/8 cup of water, allow the gelatin to bloom.
- Add the gelatin mix to the panna cotta mixture above.
- Heat the mixture over a medium flame, stir continuously, remove the pan from the flame just before it comes to a boil.
- Strain the mixture. Pour onto greased ramekins or panna cotta moulds.
- Refrigerate for at least 4-6 hours.
- Take all the ingredients mentioned in the list in a saucepan, allow to simmer for 10-15 minutes.
- Strain the mix over a muslin cloth, allow to come to room temperature.
- Add the ingredients mentioned in the list (except the oil), give it all a hearty mix.
- Heat over a low flame in a small saucepan. Remove the pan from the flame just before it comes to a boil.
- Strain the mix, transfer to a fresh syringe while it is still hot.
- Using the syringe, add the liquid to a jug containing the cold vegetable oil. Drop by drop.
- You shall start to see mango pearls forming at the bottom of the jug.
- Once done, gently strain the pearls from the oil, wash gently in water.
- Dip the panna cotta moulds into a bowl half-filled with hot water. One at a time. Leaving the moulds in hot water for just a few seconds.
- Invert the moulds onto a serving plate. Tap gently to loosen.
- Decorate with the mango caviar as shown in the picture.
- Gently pour the ginger jaggery broth on the serving plate. Serve.
Aam Pora Panna cotta is a love story between earthy Bengal and vivacious Italy. Where a world of learning and practice inherited over generations collides with a universe of fine finesse.
If you love Panna Cotta like I do, give my nolen gurer panna cotta and cashew panna cotta a try!
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