Now curries I can cook. Sweets I can make. Cocktails I can mix. But baking is one art that has so far escaped me.

Still, I have a collection of cake trays from my efforts over the years. I even bought a retro black lacquer cake stand in the recent winter sales. One divine-looking recipe on the internet later I was ready for yet another attempt.

The warning bells went off when the chocolate orange cake batter didn’t taste remotely orangey. It failed to rise and go fluffy in the oven. And promptly collapsed into a biscuit on the wire rack when left to cook.

I bravely ganached the top and took it to the party anyway. The birthday girl hurt her elbow trying to cut the darn thing. The elderly uncles nearly chipped their teeth trying to eat it. And then, the bottom fell off the cake stand.

I might throw the rest of the cake at the next person who calls me a domestic goddess.

It was time to reinstate my faith in sweet things by trying my hand at something more in my comfort zone. I made a batch of Nariyal Burfis, soft and delicately-sweetened little coconut bites that are perfect for any occasion. They were divine. A few candles and perhaps it’ll be the perfect present for next week’s birthday girl.

Makes 16:

175gm dessicated coconut (unsweetened)
1 tin (397ml) condensed milk
10 cardamoms
2 tbsp ghee
Hot water

Soak the dessicated coconut in just about enough hot water to cover it. Bash the cardamoms with the flat side of a knife and crush the seeds.

In a medium pot, bring the ghee to heat over a high flame. When it’s hot, stir in the dessicated coconut and roast for 10 minutes until very pale cream in colour.

Then stir in the condensed milk, the cardamom powder and stir violently for another 10-15 minutes until all the mixture is dry. You need to make sure it doesn’t get stuck on the bottom of the pot.

Tip the whole mixture into a shallow square oven safe dish and leave to cool for a bit. Then stick the whole lot in the freezer to set for about half an hour. When the time’s up, loosen the edges and the bottom with a sharp knife, tip into a flat plate and cut into even-ish squares.

Refridgerate for later or eat immediately. If you’re feeling fancy, decorate with almond slivers and more crushed cardamoms.

It was Diwali. I was running late.

A quick trip to the supermarket en-route home and I had the ingredients for a festive meal. My hungry sister was hand delivering paneer in exchange for dinner. Cooked in a bombsite housing pots and pans.

The Dahi Wale Aloo and wok-stirred Paneer Capsicum came out really well. Recipes to follow. But the Diwali-special Kalakand, or sweet cardamom and cheese cakes, became a sticking point.

I ditched the idea of stirring them for 35-40 minutes in favour of a quicker approach. First, I baked them in a bain-marie. Big mistake. They were still watery after half an hour. Then I transferred the lot to a small dish for the microwave. Even bigger mistake.

I watched transfixed as the dish threatened to overflow every 10 seconds. Turning the power off and stirring overzealously. Then my sister came in to check on me: “Oi, freak!”

Quite. Where would I be without the loving support of my sisters.

I sent her home after main course. And finished off the Kalakand. Here is the quick recipe with my new found wisdom. And Happy Diwali. Better later than never, right?

Makes 10-12:

• 325gm Ricotta Cheese
• 400gm condensed milk
• 8 green cardamoms
• 8 pistachios and almonds

Mix the cheese and condensed milk in a microwaveable rectabular dish. You want no more than a 2 cm thick batter in a six-inch deep container. Otherwise it’ll overflow every few seconds.

Crush the cardamom seeds and mix into the batter.

Microwave uncovered on high for four minutes on a 800 Watts + microwave or five minutes on a lower wattage machine. Then stir for a minute, let it settle and keep microwaving again for one minute at a time until the batter dries up and you are left with a set cake.

This means you have to watch the microwave for 10 minutes. But it’s beter than watching the hob for 40!

Finally, crush the almonds and pistachios and sprinkle them all over. Leave the kalakand to set in a cool place and then the fridge when at room temperature. In an hour, cut it up into little rectangles and enjoy.

I am talking about none other than the student discount card-wielding, international development protagonist cum Bollywood starlet. My littlest sister.

So far, she’s invaded my flat. Eaten all my food. And reclaimed her shimmery black coat. I have hastily offered to help her settle into her flat with a brand new hand blender and supermarket trip.

Secretly, I am very thrilled. I once again have a little something to channel my bossy energies.

There is yet another cause for celebration. This blog has turned two. If I’m honest, I’d forgotten in the excitement of video making and sisterly bickering. But Sia’s blogiversary post reminded me of the two long and terrific years of cooking, writing and blogging I’ve had.

So here’s something sweet to say hurrah! A delicious Vanilla and Rose Firni ahead of Eid-Ul-Fitr. This flavoured ground rice desert has a wonderful light and cooling way about it. Perfect for new beginnings in every way.

Feeds 2:

• 50gm rice flour
• Half pint whole milk
• Half inch vanilla pod, ground or half tsp vanilla essence
• 1 tbsp rose water
• 3 tbsp white sugar
• 4-5 crushed pistachios

In a small pot, pour the cold milk. Stir in the rice flour, sugar and vanilla.

On a low flame whisk the mixture viciously until it thickens and forms the consistency of thick yogurt. If it starts forming lumps, take the pot off the flame and get stuck in with a wooden spoon.

Whe you have a smooth mixture, stir in the rose water. Spread a big dollop of the mixture onto a flat saucer, decorate with the crushed pistachios and chill before serving.

I decided to serve Pepper Chicken Curry with the Nariyal Bhindi I made earlier. As I did my thing, my man announced that he was going to help me.

Great, I thought, bring on the hindrance.

As I looked away, he whacked the flame up on the chicken. Then added an extra chopped green chilli to the masala.

We chatted away through dinner. Smoke gently blowing out of our ears. Eyes watery. Fingers of accusation firmly pointed at the man of the house.

Unwittingly, I had made the most powerful antidote to a spicy meal for dessert. The Mango Fool. Normally this is a creamy blend of ice-cold, ripe mango puree and heavy double cream. But I opted for the healthier but equally delicious alternative of low fat creme fraiche.

All conversation came to a stop. Sensation slowly returned to our mouths. A fool saved the day after all.

Feeds 4:

• 2 ripe large mangoes
• 4 heaped tbsp creme fraiche
• 4 green cardamoms
• Brown sugar to taste

Slice and peel the mangoes. My preferred way is to slice the top off, then cut lengthwise along the sides of the pip and then slice into quarters and peel. Don’t forget the edges of the pip, which often contain a fair amount of juicy pulp too. Keep four tiny pieces aside for decoration.

Smash the cardamom seeds with the flat edge of a knife and whizz them with the mango pieces in a blender. Check for sugar and add some if your mangoes are very tart. This is entirely up to you and depends on the quality of the mangoes you have.

Finally, mix it evenly with the creme fraiche and spoon into four desert bowls. Top off with a small slice of mango to decorate and chill in the fridge until dinner is over.

We were having another Friday night dinner party. Where I would cook an Indian meal in wild panic, shower and look relaxed just in time for the doorbell.

Normally, I am star of the show at these evenings. But this time, our neighbour’s 60-something young mum stole my thunder.

We made caipirinha. Smashed glasses. And doubled up over the Kali Dal, Bhuna Gosht and Aubergine Raita as she regaled us with stories of learning how to drive in Indonesia, growing illegal herbs at home and a chance meeting with Gary Glitter.

Eddy, Absolutely Fabulous, we gasped before falling off our chairs and finally calling it a night.

Recovered from the evening of curry, I searched my cookbooks for inspiration on Sunday. It had to be Besan Ladoo a ghee-laced, sugar-soaked, decadent Indian sweet. Tipped as a great snack for children, by a mum in one of my cookbooks.

Strange, that. I’m no expert, but to me they’re the sort of thing that you’d give your child if you wanted them to fly around the room at midnight.

But then again, wouldn’t life be rather dull without unconventionally fabulous mamas?

Makes 8:

• 125gm Besan or gram flour
• 165gm granulated sugar
• 100gm ghee
• 10 pistachios, shelled
• 4 whole cardamoms

Crush the pistachios and cardamom. I used my coffee grinder but you could just smash them up in a mortar and pestle.

In a small non-stick pot, bring half the ghee to heat over a low flame. When it is warm, add the besan and stir well mixing it in.

Keep adding the rest of the ghee bit by bit and then stir in the sugar, ground pistachios and cardamoms.

Now stir this mixture well for about 20 minutes until the raw smell of the besan disappears to fill your kitchen with a glorious aroma.

Leave the mixture to cool slightly. When it’s warm enough to handle, fashion little balls out of it and leave to set in your fridge until cool and hard. Store in an airtight container and keep them all for yourselves!

First, he wouldn’t touch the codeine claiming it made him uncharacteristically calm. Then, persuaded of its wide healing properties, he insisted on overdosing on it until I hid it from view.

I briefly toyed with the idea of hitting him on the head with a saucepan. Or strangling him with the cord on my coffee grinder.

But then I thought about going without cigarettes, alcohol, hot food or fresh air for seven days. Dire came to mind.

I gave him plenty of the next best thing instead. Chocolate.

Ironically, this recipe for soft Pistachio and Cardamom Brownies came from another bunch of ladies in despair. The Indian Summer special in the June issue of Fresh Magazine featured them in summer picnic best, braving freezing British weather in the park.

These brownies are sinfully squidgy, bursting with flavour and totally divine. Sometimes, it takes more than a bit of discomfort to experience something wonderful.
Makes 16:

• 150gm butter
• 225gm quality dark chocolate
• 10 cardamom pods, deseeded
• 2 free range eggs
• 225 caster sugar
• 1 inch whole vanilla (or 1 tsp extract)
• 75 gm self raising flour
• 100gm pistachio nuts

Preheat the oven to 180 Degree C (160 for fan assisted). In a large microwaveable bowl, break the chocolate pieces and cube the butter. Stick it in on medium heat for three minutes until lumpy but melted.

Crush the cardamom with the whole vanilla in a coffee grinder or pestle and mortar. Add this to the bowl and mix thoroughly until smooth.

Now, lightly beat the eggs and stir them into the chocolate along with the sugar. Then fold in the flour and the peeled pistachio nuts gently.

I used salted pistachios, which I shelled myself. If you used the shelled, unsalted variety add a pinch of salt to the batter.

Take a rectangular /square baking dish that is at least an inch deep. The original recipe asks for a cake tin lined with parchment paper, but I clearly don’t bake enough.

I just took some margerine out of the fridge and rubbed it evenly across the base and sides of the baking dish. Then I tipped the batter in and baked the whole lot for 30 minutes.

After 30 minutes, take the dish out of the oven, leave to cool and then refridgerate for two hours until set. Cut into rectangular pieces and enjoy on their own or with Vanilla ice cream.

I looked around nervously at the 24 Nirvana-seeking faces. Nothing to be afraid of, I reassured myself. I am Indian. Yoga runs in my blood.

And then he wafted in. A small, bearded bloke in white linen and oversize beads. He turned on Irish-Sanskrit trance music meets Hed Kandi chillout. And lit some incense.

Is this guy for real?

The class, he stated in a low voice, is a meditational, spiritual awakening of the inner consciousness of our self.

Sorry, what?

We are going to balance our left brain with our right brain, finally centering ourselves with our highest awareness of our being.

This sounds complicated. Can I go home?

Balance yourself on one leg, raise your opposite arm and start flapping. Soar until you reach the peak of self transformation. Unleash your creativity.

This man’s on drugs!

Higher. Faster.

I paid to do a chicken impression?

When they started singing abut peace and love, I finally clocked off and started focusing my inner self on Smirnoff and Bhapa Doi, delicious Bengali cheesecake flavoured with saffron and cardamom.

The flow of power in my home is all about moving from living room to kitchen. Transferring the contents of a deliciously sweet and creamy Bhapa doi pot to the mouth. Knowing it took all of 20 minutes to make. And washing it down with a stiff drink.

Next time I’ll stick to what works best.

Feeds 6:

• 500 gm low fat natural yoghurt
• 400 gm condensed milk
• 4 green cardamoms
• About 10-12 saffron strands
• 2 tbsp milk

Preheat the oven to 190 Degrees Centigrade. Put the cardamoms in a large shallow baking tray in the oven for about five minutes. Heat the milk with the saffron strands in the microwave fr 10 seconds and leave until later.

In the meantime, mix the yogurt and condensed milk together until smooth. Crush the cardamoms and stir them into the cheesecake mix.

Fill six little ramekins or a pyrex baking dish with the doi or yoghurt. Place in the large, shallow baking tray. Fill this tray with enough hot water to come half way up to the ramekins/dish. Then carefully place the whole lot in the oven for 10 minutes.

After this time, spoon a couple of saffron strands and a little bit of the golden milk on top of the yoghurt. Keep cooking for another five minutes until the cheesecake has set. A fork inserted should come out clean.

Leave to sit for 10 minutes and then refridgerate for later. This is a delicious low fat desert after a full meal – only 6 grams of fat per serving.

PS = This is my first entry to Sandeepa’s Bengali food event. I am tripping over with excitement about showcasing the food I grew up with in Kolkata!!

• 1 x Indian wedding
• 7 x impossible deadline
• 5 x 12-hour days
• 1 x boozy PR bunny lunch
• 1 x big night out

All of which brings me to a major milestone. Quickindiancooking is one today.

12 months ago, I decided my job, married life, social and family commitments weren’t good enough. What I needed was a passionate mission that could tip me right over the edge.

And quickindiancooking.com was born. Part diary, part mission to get people cooking Indian food, it came with a solemn promise: I would rather eat my shoe than cook a samosa from scratch.

Since then I have blogged about the good, the bad and plain ugly about real Indian food. With the support of committed bloggers (you know who you are Asha, Sandeepa et al) and Indian food lovers.

Without getting sentimental (so not me, darlings) I want to say thank you for reading this, trying my recipes and leaving (mostly) lovely comments. You make it worth every minute!

Finally, because this is a special occasion, I am going to ditch the weight obsessing and cook Halwa, a ghee-laced semolina desert that is served up on special occasions like pujas, religious functions, and weddings back home.

Pure, unadulterated pleasure. A bit like this blog.

This recipe serves 4:

150 gm coarse semolina

1 tbsp raisins

2 cardamoms, crushed

200 ml whole milk

2 tbsp ghee

4 tbsp white sugar

In a small pot, heat the ghee over a high flame. When it is very hot, stir in the sugar and wait a few seconds for it to caramelise.

Now add the semolina and stir vigorously to brown it evenly. As it changes from pale cream to a warm toffee colour in about five minutes, mix in the raisins and crushed cardamom.

Immediately after, stir the milk into the semolina evenly. It will develop a soft, spongy texture.

Take it off the heat and leave to cool. Spoon into little bowls, sit back and enjoy.

Tonight, I’m off to some property party. Smug in the knowledge that a pot full of chilled payesh or rice pudding will be waiting for me back home in the fridge.

I cooked it two days ago, and then realised that I wouldn’t be able to wear the dress I had in mind if I ate too much of it.

Weird world.

Normally, I forgo cooking sweet things in favour of savoury dishes. But I was really craving this creamy, spiced desert.

As I am now. Frankly, I’d just rather go home. But after all the effort it would be a shame to waste the dress.

This recipe serves 4 as desert:

Quarter cup white rice, unwashed

1 pint milk

1 tin evaporated milk

4 tbsp dememera (raw cane) sugar

1 inch cinnamon

1 bay leaf

1 tbsp raisins

1 tbsp ghee

Mix the rice with the ghee. In a small pot, bring the milk to a gentle boil with the bay leaf and cinnamon.

As it starts bubbling slowly, add the rice, four tablespoons sugar and evaporated milk.

Continue to boil gently until the rice is cooked and the milk thickens. Finally, stir in the raisins and leave to cool.

Serve this chilled in little bowls. It’s also delicious served warm alongside parathas.

But instead I ushered in the New Year dancing in skinny jeans until the wee hours of the morning with a bevvy of beautiful girls including two other mad Bengalis and a Russian.

To make amends, I decided to cook some delicious Bengali sweets I ate at home – Narkel Naru or coconut sweets. Traditionally, these are made with jaggery, but I used dark muscavado sugar instead which has a similar rich, dark loveliness. I also used half a fresh coconut I cracked on my tiny balcony.

I’d never bothered making these before so it was all down to trial and error.

And Sweet Jesus, error it was… this recipe turned out to be the anti Christ of Quick Indian Cooking. A full hour and a half to make them, plus cooling time – The sort of thing that normally leaves me quaking in my boots.

Anyway, as it is Bengali New Year and therefore a special occasion, I am breaking the first rule of my blog and posting something that took pointlessly long to make.

Next time, I’ll use my brains and a 200ml tin of evaporated milk instead. Here is the recipe to make about 12 little golden balls of coconut deliciousness:

1 pint whole milk
Half a fresh coconut (about 180gm fresh shredded coconut)
180 gm dark muscavado sugar

Bring the milk to a boil and then lower the heat to a high simmer and reduce, stirring regularly.

Scrape the coconut out of its shell using a butter knife, peel the dark skin off the back and blitz it in a food processor.

When the milk reduces to about half its original level and thickens, mix in the sugar and the coconut. Continue to cook it on a low flame until all the liquid evaporates and you get a sticky, thick mixture.

Form little balls with the mixture and cool before you eat.