Sweetness and comfort is the ‘patishapta’

It was that time of the year! The world around seemed fresh, the earth renewed, and hopes refreshed with the thoughts of a brand new beginning once again! Bengali New Year arrives each year on April 14th bringing with it the festivities of a bygone era, old-world charm of yesteryear traditions and most importantly for me the sweets that were hand made only at this time of each year.  One of these delectable treats that invoke such warmth, sweetness and comfort is the ‘patishapta’, a crepe filled with rich, gooey delicious goodness that screams old world and tradition. The warm, sweet aroma whiffs through the kitchen, steaming pots create a romantic mist, the beautiful sound of a grinding stone as it pestles milky coconut into a snowy pulp fills the air.

The old that gave birth to the new, the old that tells stories, the old that fills our heart and mind with memories of love, nurturing, warmth and kindness, the old that inspires us to strive for better. Sitting here and lamenting on what was, what might have been or what I missed seemed a wasted effort, so I resolved quietly to recapture this very essence of my heritage, my traditions, my memories, my childhood.

I didn’t have a recipe, nor instructions or tips of how to make it.  But I had my dadi (grandmother) in my heart, the aromas in my deepest memory, visuals of the moments I can still recall as if they were yesterday.  I had seen it done so many times. I had seen her hands measure, sift, stir, fry, shape and patiently fold, roll and create these delicious sweets. Gathering all these images and memories so deeply ingrained in my mind’s eye I began to prepare the oh so cherished ‘patishapta’.

I remembered that she would first call for the freshest ingredients from the bazaar. The ingredients were basic: milk rice, flour, sugar, coconut.  My grandmother’s ingredients would come from the nearby farm, mills and groves, literally farm to table, but I will make do with my local Whole Foods markets.  Now the tricky part of how much of each ingredient to make the magical sweet appear from these humble ingredients.  Deep breath Anna, you got this!  As I quietened my mind and racing heart, I sifted the flour, poured in milk till the batter looked exactly like she had it.  She would say, “don’t let the batter run away from you.  You will know it’s perfect when it flows back freely into the bowl like ribbons.”  I could hear her whisper, “it is perfect.”  Next, I had to cook the scrumptious filling of fresh coconut, milk and sugar.  Here was the real test as this process required me to be slow and low demanding a great deal of perseverance.  “Don’t rush this part,” she would say.  “You want the mixture to remain white as snow, you wan to do it slow so all the freshness is preserved.”