Skip to main content

Making Khoya from scratch



I have a memory. My mother, stirring the milk as it boils down to a solid mass. Me, a 10 year old, waiting eagerly as she stirs in sugar and a little ghee and hands it over to me.

Apart from being being a delicious treat on its own, khoya (aka khova or mava) is the base for countless Indian desserts. If you are still wondering what it is, all you do is boil a liter of milk (more, if you dare) and then simmer it until the liquid's almost all gone and you are left with a rich, solid mass. It's critical to use a heavy saucepan. And dropping a couple of steel spoons in the milk as it starts to boil usually helps prevent burning. Apart from that, it's just solid effort in terms of stirring it for an hour or two, waiting for the transformation to happen.

I've never made khoya before simply because it has a terrible effort to rewards ratio. And also because it's so easy to get good quality store bought khoya around here. But when Srivalli announced Gulab Jamuns as the October dare for Indian cooking challenge, she also added that we need to make our own khoya.

I love gulab jamuns and when Srivalli extended the deadline to November 15, I had no choice but to get going on this project. I started with just half a liter of milk, and the khoya didn't take that long to make. But it's too much effort for one day, so the gulab jamuns have to wait. Until tomorrow, that is...

Comments

Srivalli said…
Great to see the milk being stirred so well....:))
Spice said…
wow! never made khoya....nice tip of throwing spoons in it to prevent burning so may be now i can try....but i'll eat it just like that mixed with sugar...
Parita said…
Preparing khoya at home is quite tiresome bu totally worth the efforts :-)
Between, i remember in one of your post yu had mentioned abot flipkart, can u pls share your exp with me? I am planning to order few books so just want to be sure :-)
Bharti said…
You're so patient! I could never do that.

Popular posts from this blog

I've found my perfect cookie

It's a bite sized cookie, with flavors of a pie, shape of a croissant and a pretty, pretty name. It's Rugelach. I first heard of this cookie when it became the baking pick for Tuesdays with Dorrie a couple of months back. The looks, the concept - everything was fascinating. And I've dreamed of making this cookie ever since. I ditched hundreds of recipes floating around and went straight to the master. It's Dorie Greenspan's recipe that I used, and ain't I glad I got it so perfect the very first time. So what's rugelach? It's cream-cheese pastry dough, rolled then cut into wedges, spread with jam and sugar and fillings of choice, rolled into crescents and baked. First the dough. Dorie did it in her processor, but I just went and did it by hand. Put 100 gms cream cheese and 100 gms butter out of the fridge until they were soft but still cold. Added both to a cup of plain flour (I omitted the salt because I use salted butter). Rubbed the flour and but

Mystery Fruit

This only happened a few times every year, just when the rainy season kicked in. A street hawker will come by, straw basket on head. He will yell "kaul chapni" and I will run out to buy a bundle of these. Stuck together like flowers, they looked like a bouquet. Every hole contains a little fruit. You break out the package, peel the tiny fruit that pops out and eat it. Done slowly, it can take you an hour to eat an head. Or did, when I was about 12 years old. That was the last time I saw this fruit. I've never seen it again, didn't even know what it was called or where it came from. Three weeks back, Vikram Doctor wrote about a store in Khar that sells Sindhi foods. He described this fruit and I knew it came from my vivid childhood memories. And finally, I knew we were talking about lotus fruit. Now talk about coincidences. Last weekend, I was passing by a lane in Bandra and for the first time in many, many years I saw the straw basket filled with my mytery fru

Of Brun and Bun Maska

There is more to Bombay's breads than the pao that goes into pao bhaji and vada pao. There's Brun. and there's bun. We will get there. First, you have to get to know the city's Parsis. And Iranis, who are also Zoroastrians, but came to city a little later, in the late 19th or early 20th century. And when they came, they brought with them these little cafes that dot the city. I am no expert on Irani chai cafes. And I can't tell you whether Yazdani Bakery will provide you the best experience or Kyani's. But I can tell you a few things you need to ignore when you get there. Appearances don't matter; so ignore the fact that the marble/glass top tables and the wooden chairs look a bit dilapidated. Also ignore the rundown look the place sports. Instead, get yourself settled. And order a bun muska. This one's familiar to you as a first cousin of the soft hamburger bun. It's similar, but just a tad bit sweeter. Maska, of course, is the generous dollop o