What’s For Sweet?

 This has always been a frequent question in our household. Be it a piece of cake, caramelized fried banana pieces, halwas or the simple chocolate chip ‘Hide and Seek’, we loved to indulge our sweet teeth. I guess you can say it runs in the family – ofcourse, so does diabetes but, no this isn’t about ‘that group of diseases that result from too much sugar in blood’ – relax.  

  Mid-morning  

 “What’s for sweet today?” asked Abu.

 “Well, if we hadn’t gobbled up that cream bun yesterday, we could’ve had it for today.” Anu scowled at him.

“Okay, do not tell me that you did not want a bite of that awesome snack last night,” he smirked at her.

“Fine; never mind,” she said, trying not to give her brother the satisfaction of her being his partner-in-crime again. “Let’s just think about today. What do you want?”

“I’m craving chocolate cake – the real kind and not the one with the curd and stuff,” warned Abu, “the real chocolate gooey mess.” Anu smiled.

“You mean you want the unhealthy version of chocolate cakes slash brownies?”

“Ugh, who in their right mind would call brownies unhealthy?” Abu said revoltingly.

“Okay then,” Anu laughed, “classic brownies it is!” She tried to sound cheerful for her brother’s sake. The planning phase was fine; it was the execution phase that needed the higher authority’s approval – in this case, the queen of their home and their ‘I-hate-everything-chocolate’ mother. 

  Noon  

“What are you doing?” Amma was watching Anu go through the refrigerator’s contents and the dabbas (transl.: ‘containers’ in Hindi) on the shelves.

“Just checking if we have enough supplies,” Anu replied.

“For what?” the frown on her mother’s face could be heard in her voice.

“”Oh, just a chocolate cake or brownie we wanted to make for dessert,” Anu said, raising her eyes to look at her Amma’s face. Here it comes!

“Fine.” Wait, what?

“You’re sure?” Anu eyed her mother.

“Yes, please by all means do go ahead and make use of the resources to make brownies that are just way too good, so you can have them and enjoy them for basically five minutes or less,” her mother said.

“Meaning, no?” Anu pressed further.

“Meaning, okay make it – at your own risk.” Her mother was not going to help. Usually, whenever her mother didn’t share her tips and tricks, the dish would get a bit out of hand. To make matters worse, it’d been sometime since Anu had baked.

“Okay Ma, I’ll try not to ruin this!” she retorted while setting the oven to preheat.

Twenty minutes later, the chocolate brick had melted into the butter and the oil and appeared very silky, while the sifted sugar, flour, cocoa powder and baking soda were in a bowl on the counter. Anu picked up the bowl with the dry ingredients to mix into the wet ingredients.

“Tsk, tsk,” Anu heard her mother click her tongue. Anu looked up. Her mother dropped her eyes and went back to chopping the greens. Anu frowned. There must be something I’m missing, she thought.

“Oh no,” Anu nearly face-palmed herself – she’d forgot to put in the eggs, the essence and the hot coffee into that silky mix of pleasure she’d melted. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother smile. Anu shook her head, “hope I’m not forgetting anything else,” she said out loud just so her Ma could hear.  No response. She dusted the circular baking pan with cocoa powder and a little bit of coconut oil – just like she’d watched her mother do, before. She gradually folded the dry into the wet, until it became an ooey-gooey velvet glory, poured it into the pan and plopped it into the oven at 200°C for forty minutes. 

 Afternoon  

‘Ten more minutes,’ Anu texted her brother; he sent her the ‘Yummy emoji times two’ back.

“It smells good kiddo.” Anu looked up to see her mother smiling at her.

“Oh, we’ll see if it’s edible or not Ma,” she smiled back.

Finally, the moment of truth had come. That ‘ding’ gave Anu butterflies in her stomach. She put on her mittens and slowly pulled out the pan to conduct the infamous ‘toothpick’ test. Sometimes, one can tell how much a cake is done by checking to see if the middle is springy to the touch and when the sides begin to leave the pan. But Anu knew that brownies were of a different league entirely – and she’d opted for the safest ‘done’ check. She didn’t have a tooth-pick as such so she’d gone and made a DIY one – from the midrib of a banana leaf from her backyard. Anu pushed the DIY toothpick into the centre of the beautiful darkness inside the pan – it came out clean.

“Yay!” She jumped. While she’d been lost in the moment, her brother had snuck up on her.

“Are you aware,” Anu spoke slowly, “that you would’ve died inside if that jump scare had made me drop this entire pan?” Her brother rolled his eyes.

“Well, then let’s be grateful you didn’t.”

“Very funny!” she quipped as they set the table for lunch.

“So, what’s for sweet?” asked Dad, half-an-hour later at the lunch table. The siblings looked at each other.

“One warm, melt-in-the-mouth, dark chocolate brownie coming right up!” said the victorious voices.