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.