Has anyone ever discovered a shortcut to making rabdi that doesn't skimp 
on flavor?  I have seen Tarla Dalal's version with paneer, but I'm not 
sure that is what I'm looking for.

This query is prompted by a wonderful discovery yesterday:  shahi turka 
(aka double ka meetha).  I can't believe I have never encountered this 
before.  I'd love to be able to make this at home, but do I really have 
to boil down the milk that much?  I wince, thinking of the added heat in 
the summer.

Thanks,


Jean B.

"Jean B."  wrote in
news:6br1eeF3dlipfU1@mid.individual.net: 

> Has anyone ever discovered a shortcut to making rabdi that doesn't
> skimp on flavor?  I have seen Tarla Dalal's version with paneer,
> but I'm not sure that is what I'm looking for.

Since I have seen neither the recipe nor the book, for that matter, I 
offer this suggestion with no context whatsoever: You have to be careful  
to ensure that you and your audience share the same understanding of the 
word "rabdi".

To me rabdi identifies the following dessert:

Milk is simmered down as in making kheer, with as little agitation as 
possible, using a kadahi of preferably shallow curvature. A fan is waved 
over the surface of the kheer to promote the formation of the malai 
(skin, more or less) so earnestly avoided in making kheer itself. As the 
skin develops enough texture to allow this, it is moved over to the 
sides of the kadahi, above the surface of the kheer, where it gets drier 
and acquires some texture. Periodic additions of newly developed malai 
to the sides, with the accompanying fluid, keeps the texture from 
getting leathery but does produce definite layers of drier material, 
with wetter stuff in-between.

Too gentle a simmer will take too long. Too rapid a boil will break up 
the skin as it forms and make for a less structured rabdi. Given the 
memory of a reasonable rabdi or that of a standard Indian, the right 
boiling/simmering conditions are not difficult to divine.

If the right amount of sugar is added at the beginning, you wind with a 
moderately sweet modified cream portion and a considerably  sweeter 
kheer portion. 

At the point when the stuff in the bowl of the kadahi is clearly kheer 
and the stuff on the sides is clearly yearning to become rabdi, the 
material on the sides is cut up with the spatula, while still on the 
walls, insto sections a few cm on the side and scraped down into the 
kheer.

There exists some range of opinion as to how thick the kheer should be 
at the end. If you intend to refrigerate it, the kheer should be 
relatively fluid. If you intend to serve it up at room temperature or 
slghtly above, it can be boiled down a bit more.

I regret to say that I see no reasonable way to simplify this.

I have not made rabdi in perhaps twenty years. It took some practice to 
get it right.

You will find rabdi made with completely unnecessary flourishes, such as 
ground almonds and pistachio and who knows what else. Rabdi does not 
need any of these adulterants.

You will find short-cuts involving bread. Preserve your soul from these 
blasphemies. I have nothing against bread puddings but they ain't rabdi, 
as they say in the American.

- Shankar

Shankar Bhattacharyya wrote:
> "Jean B."  wrote in
> news:6br1eeF3dlipfU1@mid.individual.net: 
> 
>> Has anyone ever discovered a shortcut to making rabdi that doesn't
>> skimp on flavor?  I have seen Tarla Dalal's version with paneer,
>> but I'm not sure that is what I'm looking for.
> 
> Since I have seen neither the recipe nor the book, for that matter, I 
> offer this suggestion with no context whatsoever: You have to be careful  
> to ensure that you and your audience share the same understanding of the 
> word "rabdi".
> 
> To me rabdi identifies the following dessert:
> 
> Milk is simmered down as in making kheer, with as little agitation as 
> possible, using a kadahi of preferably shallow curvature. A fan is waved 
> over the surface of the kheer to promote the formation of the malai 
> (skin, more or less) so earnestly avoided in making kheer itself. As the 
> skin develops enough texture to allow this, it is moved over to the 
> sides of the kadahi, above the surface of the kheer, where it gets drier 
> and acquires some texture. Periodic additions of newly developed malai 
> to the sides, with the accompanying fluid, keeps the texture from 
> getting leathery but does produce definite layers of drier material, 
> with wetter stuff in-between.
> 
> Too gentle a simmer will take too long. Too rapid a boil will break up 
> the skin as it forms and make for a less structured rabdi. Given the 
> memory of a reasonable rabdi or that of a standard Indian, the right 
> boiling/simmering conditions are not difficult to divine.
> 
> If the right amount of sugar is added at the beginning, you wind with a 
> moderately sweet modified cream portion and a considerably  sweeter 
> kheer portion. 
> 
> At the point when the stuff in the bowl of the kadahi is clearly kheer 
> and the stuff on the sides is clearly yearning to become rabdi, the 
> material on the sides is cut up with the spatula, while still on the 
> walls, insto sections a few cm on the side and scraped down into the 
> kheer.
> 
> There exists some range of opinion as to how thick the kheer should be 
> at the end. If you intend to refrigerate it, the kheer should be 
> relatively fluid. If you intend to serve it up at room temperature or 
> slghtly above, it can be boiled down a bit more.
> 
> I regret to say that I see no reasonable way to simplify this.
> 
> I have not made rabdi in perhaps twenty years. It took some practice to 
> get it right.
> 
> You will find rabdi made with completely unnecessary flourishes, such as 
> ground almonds and pistachio and who knows what else. Rabdi does not 
> need any of these adulterants.
> 
> You will find short-cuts involving bread. Preserve your soul from these 
> blasphemies. I have nothing against bread puddings but they ain't rabdi, 
> as they say in the American.
> 
> - Shankar

Thanks again!  So, there is no good shortcut?

BTW, the bread came in as part of another dessert!

-- 
Jean B.