Do you come home tired and not feel like cooking? Does your lunch during a break at work always look the same? Do you still visit the same restaurants? Are you surprised by the unannounced visit of guests, and the fridge is empty? Do you want to devote more time to your hobbies, or just relax? With the increasing pace of life and the accumulation of responsibilities, each of us needs now more and more convenient solutions including in terms of food.

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With just a few clicks on Foodpanda, you have almost cooked a finished meal for yourself. You can enjoy many delicious and varied dishes. Using iOS and Android software application on phones, it is quite simple and convenient to order food online. Food ordering has never been easier. You only need to enter the country, and this app will find all the restaurants in your area. The app has a database of 15,000 restaurants. It has the widest geographical reach targeting a population of three billion people across its footprint.

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Mohanthal similar to Besan burfi is a popular Rajasthani and Gujarati sinfully rich roasted gram flour fudge made with milk, khoya, and ghee and is a sweet dessert with a touch of cardamom flavor and topped with sliced almonds made more often during Krishna Janmashtami, Diwali and festivals that is ideally known to be served to Gods and Goddesses as prasad.

Mohanthal is a typical Gujarati sweet and is a kind of pastry flavored with cardamom, condensed milk, and butter to which you can add coffee, chocolate, nuts, mint, and rum to get different flavors.

Mohanthal is considered an Indian invention. Prepared with sugar, milk, butter and cream, the dessert is served at room temperature. There are many variations of the classic recipe, from chocolate to that to nuts, to which you can add coffee, mint, and rum. The cake is cut into squares and served at room temperature. Since you can prepare it in 10 minutes and does not require special molds, it may be a good idea to prepare it for a sweet Valentine's Day last minute dessert.

Mohanthal Recipe

Preparation Time: 20 mins
Cooking time: 10 mins
Servings: 3 servings
Calories per serving: 125 calories per 100 gms

Ingredients:
  • 3 cups bengal gram flour
  • 6 tbsp butter
  • 1 cup milk
  • 1 cup cream
  • 1 cup milk powder
  • 2 tsp cardamom powder
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1 cup water
  • 2 tbsp almonds and pistachios
  • A few saffron strands

Recipe Method:
  1. Melt the butter and mix with gram flour in a large bowl and combine well. Add warm milk and mix well. Keep aside this mixture to rest for 20 minutes.
  2. Put the cream and milk powder in a frying pan and cook on medium heat until mixture comes together. Remove from heat and keep aside.
  3. Mix the milk dough with gram flour mixture and stir-fry continuously on medium heat until it becomes light brown in color. Let it cool and add cardamom powder, saffron and the nuts and stir until well combined.
  4. In a saucepan, boil the sugar and water together on medium heat till you reach a single thread consistency. Mix the syrup with flour mixture and keep stirring until the mixture turns thick and leaves the sides of the pan and quickly pour into a greased rectangular plate and level the surface.
  5. Cut it into desired shapes on the plate. Spread the sliced almonds evenly over the top to garnish.
I kept Udaipur in my memory as one of the cities that I liked the most during my first trip to Rajasthan. That is why, when I was in Bikaner, my route plan changed. I decided that Udaipur had to return, even if only to contemplate once again the sunset over Lake Pichola.

Udaipur has received me exactly as I remembered it. Its white terraces continue to reflect the sun's rays although to a lesser extent. Octopussy is broadcast in many restaurants at seven o'clock in the afternoon. The image of the Palace illuminated at night still far exceeds the visit of its interiors. And, like three years ago, my favorite time is still the sunset. Women go to the ghat to wash clothes, while children soak and rinse between jumps and somersaults, turning an activity as routine as grooming in all a game.

In the past days in Udaipur, I have been able to relive all these memories, and also create new ones, such as the visit to the Jain temple of Ranakpur. It is one of the two classic excursions from Udaipur together with the fort of Chittorgarh.

But, at the same time, Udaipur has also shown me a different face. The quiet city that I remembered was dressed up for the Navratri, which was coming to an end and was saying goodbye in style. During the last days of the festival, the ghat has been invaded by dozens of statues of Durga. While every two by three the streets were cut by the passage of a tractor carrying another statue and followed by a crowd dancing to the music that threatened deaf to all.

A couple of days ago I commented on Facebook that there is no place that day after day surprises me as much as India. This country is crazy, for the good and for the bad. And if there is anything in which the Indians are insurmountable, it is in the celebrations, whatever they may be.

Navratri Vrat Recipes images


Also, it seems that there is always a reason to celebrate something. Last Thursday, for example, with the Navratri already finished, naive of me I thought that tonight I would finally sleep peacefully. Well no. Thursday is the day of Hanuman (the monkey god) and from eight until twelve at night, in a temple located under my hotel, a group of men and boys were dedicated to repeating mantras marking the rhythm with some drums. One of those (recurring) situations in which you think, and then you laugh hysterically because you know there is no possible solution.

I'm starting to digress, so I'm going to focus on the subject. I wanted to show Udaipur dressed as a party, but to reflect everything seen and lived these days I think the words fall short. As they say that a picture is worth a thousand, this time I will make a silent post.

There is that explosion of color, to those babies observing with their huge eyes all the madness that develops around them. There are those other babies that in spite of madness sleep deeply in the arms of their mothers. There are those men possessed by God. Then there are the parallel acts of the hijra (the third sex) entertaining the citizens with their dances and jokes.

They make use of the imagination, deafening music, shouts, and laughter. I stay from morning to night, and maybe you can get an idea of ​​what the end of Navratri has been in Udaipur. I can not think of a better way to transmit it.

If there is something I never imagined in my life, it is to ever step on Wimbledon. It is one of those things with which I become familiar as a child but only by what I see in the television. When my cousin told me 3 weeks ago that he had Wimbledon tickets, I thought it was a joke. For a passionate tennis lover like me, there is little news that may seem better than this one. I always dreamed of being able to get close to London to see a Wimbledon match. However, the process of getting tickets is really complicated.

Very few tickets go on sale and, those that do, are awarded through a kind of complex raffle or after hours and hours of queuing. In order to have access, to the best seats of the main courses in the big tournaments, you have to be part of the club to start. At least that is how it works in Roland Garros and Wimbledon although in the US Open I was able to get tickets for the Arthur Ashe court in the 2nd row and I bought it the same day.

In the United States you could see people from different social classes and was more open to everyone. In the tournaments of France and England the dress of all is different. We had tickets to see the fourth and fifth day of the tournament. On day 4 it would still be the men's and women's second rounds.

Located to the south-west of the city of London, Wimbledon is an elegant neighborhood of well-kept and peaceful streets with elegant mansions surrounded by English gardens. But only until its prestigious international tennis tournament arrives. At that time, the neighborhood is transformed and filled with fans of this sport from all over the world.

This metamorphosis has been experienced since the sixties of last century, and lasts two weeks between the end of June and the first of July.

Journey to the Heart of Wimbledon

Day 1

A few days later I already had the plane tickets bought and I disembarked at the Gatwick airport shortly before 7 o'clock. Our subway stop at Shepherd's Bush, west of the city, a little beyond Hyde Park and right next to Holland Park and our hotel. We check-in. A guy of Indian origin treated us very kindly and told us how to get to the room. And now, with much desire and camera in hand, we went to tour the city.

The first sports appetizer was to see one of the football world cup matches in an Australian bar in the center of London. The day was sunny with the perfect temperature in London. I did not have any cash. So I had to go to the nearest ATM, which was not so close.

It was a beautiful and sunny day in London. So after visiting the Chelsea FC stadium, I went to the tube station Fulham Broadway. I got off at the Wimbledon Park station. In thirty minutes, here we are at Wimbledon, the second of four stages marking the Grand Slam tournament.

Wimbledon is above all a district populated by trees abundantly watered by the rain. I take a deep breath. The sun is shining. The exception that confirms the rule of English rainfall. I did not have a map of the area. I did not know the entrance to the courts, but it was just a matter of following the mass of people and asking.

I think the purpose of my blog is not just to share my travel diary to be written somewhere that I can go back and relive it every time my memory fails, but also to share it with you. At 2 o'clock in the afternoon I put my foot for the first time in the legendary All England Club of Wimbledon. I had all the hair on my skin bristling. One hundred and twenty-six years of tennis leaves a residue impossible to ignore.

I had seen, like a hundred thousand times, the place on television, but in person it is something shocking. The venue was a hive of people who went from track to track, and crowded into the official stores. They populated and gave life to all the restaurants and food courts with the chatter about this or that player. Tennis was getting sweetly through every pore of my skin.

When I entered the temple of the Central Court I think I got lost in a state of ecstasy. The thing was worse when we found that our seats were in row 3 of one of the sides. It is less than a meter and a half from the grass, allowing me to see the players less than 5 meters. No one could return me to the real world anymore.

The great in every way Serena Williams was in the courts. The game had little history left and soon the Scottish Andy Murray, the local idol went out to warm up. The tennis commentaries did not stop after each point. The public of Wimbledon is usually quite intellectual although I verified that my knowledge of the players and their level of form surpassed the majority. I have to look at it.

My cousin went around the rest of the tracks under a scorching sun unfit for London. I, knowing that I would have another whole day to do it, stayed at Centre Court to watch the end of Murray's match and impatient for the arrival of Rafael Nadal.

Rafa jumped to the track to warm up around 6:15 in the afternoon. I could never have dreamed that the first time I would see him in my life would be 5 meters on the Wimbledon Center Court. His rival, an almost unknown jumped to the track half timid and not knowing what to do.

The sad outcome of the game you will all know by now. Nadal never found a way to alleviate the cannon shots of all possible types of the Czech player. My reputation as a jinx is not in vain. The fifth set was played after 9 o'clock at night and that is why I was able to experience a match with the retractable roof closed and the artificial lights on.

Nobody left from there. By the time Nadal ducked his head for the last time against ace number 22 of the Czech, the clock marked 10 o'clock at night. The elimination of Nadal left us with bad mood and was the subject that was discussed in all groups of people who left the All England Club. Not in vain, it was the first time he fell in the second round of a Grand Slam since 2005.

After leaving the courts we leave for one of the many typical pubs. There we find traditional dishes of English cuisine such as the popular fish & chips, battered fish accompanied with chips and seasoned with salt and vinegar. There are English sausages with mashed peas and potatoes, meat and vegetable empanada, lamb in mint sauce, roast beef, chicken and mushroom pie.

There is also the Yorkshire Pudding, apple pie or the crumble, prepared with fruit and covered by several layers of crunchy crumb.

Journey to the Heart of Wimbledon

Day 2

I woke up excited. There I was early in the morning at the station, waiting for the subway to arrive at that unthinkable place. Some people will think I'm crazy but those passionate about tennis, not so much. On the way we have some coffee and breakfast at a store near Victoria Station.

I arrived earlier to be able to explore the site well. The sky threatened rain and the tracks were covered with their protective green tarps. However, it turned out to be another fantastic day of sun and heat.

I went through the official store to take a keychain and a backpack that I plan to take everywhere. Then I happened to meet one of the three most famous seat judges in the World. We took a picture and chatted about the games for a while.

My next stop was Court 1. I got the feeling that it is even bigger than the Central Court and much more modern. Again good seats, behind the box for the team of players, allowed us to witness the games from a privileged position.

The beautiful Maria Sharapova with a blunt mix of frying pans and shouts in equal measure. It was the most beautiful match I saw in the two days. With an enviable sun, I spent part of the afternoon watching pieces of matches from the outer courts. I was impressed to see the Bryan brothers in the doubles.

I then head to the booth where they sold Wimbledon balls used by the players in their games. Here every ball is worth 1 pound. They take advantage of tennis freaks like me. I bought one. It was getting dark when I went to Henman Hill to join the thousands of people who saw the great Roger Federer. It is one of the busiest sites during the two weeks of competition.

People who do not have tickets for the important tracks bring their blankets and supplies. They spend the day watching outdoor tracks and enjoy food, drink and grass while watching the stellar games on the big screen that looks out over the hill. Federer, did not suffer my curse and had already come back when I crossed the doors of the All England Club for the last time.

The game was not over yet and I stayed a few seconds watching the almost empty and quiet place under the night. It is an experience that I will never forget and that I hope will be repeated in London or Paris!

During the celebration of the international tennis tournament, one of the culinary traditions of Wimbledon is to eat strawberries with cream in one of the restaurants and cafes that are scattered around the neighborhood. We have enormous strawberries with whipped cream at an exorbitant price.

It is also traditional during the tournament to drink Pimms, a very refreshing and summery alcoholic drink that consists of a mixture of wine, herbs and gin. When we get to our neighborhood we stop for a beer in a pub.

On the Kebab Trail: A Moti Mahal Cookbook by Monish Gujral is perfect. It is a very manageable book, something that is appreciated in the kitchen. I'm sick of recipe books that are rigid and take up more space in the kitchen than a pressure cooker, so this book seems ideal.

I have curly hair, like my mother. Dark brown with reddish tones, like my mother. I have very black eyes, like my mother. I am orderly, stubborn, courageous and determined, like my mother. If I read a book that I like, it is very likely that she too. We are like many things, more than I would like to recognize.

Let's see, is that this topic really touches me. And it unnerves me. I love to eat, always. I love trying new things. But I hate cooking. If the elaboration takes more than fifteen minutes and dirty many pots. Instead, I can spend an entire morning in the kitchen making amazing dishes.

And, you know? I travel a lot and the moment I like most of the trip is when I return home and my mother is waiting for me with a potato omelette. My girlfriend agrees on this too. I think she only loves me for this omelette. So, if I look so much like her, why do not I like to cook? I do not get it.

And these dates arrive and I always want to try. So, every Diwali, I end up with some cookbook to see if it inspires me and encourages me to go into the kitchen for a whole afternoon to prepare an amazing dinner. This year, the choice has been On the Kebab Trail by Monish Gujral.

Yes, the one who come out on Indian Television in the mornings and prepare dishes that can even be smelled on TV. This time I have opted for them because I think that, although the dishes he prepare are quite elaborate, it gives the feeling that he make it so simple that even I could try it. I also like the mix of modern and classic. Traditional cuisine is the basis of his dishes. Innovation is the key.

If we can boast of anything in India it is to have a powerful cuisine, of which we proudly speak wherever we go. But in our streets every time there is more space to know the delicacies that in other countries are also cause for pride. It all started with the Mughals, their kebabs and their biriyanis.

Then came the boom of restaurants with all the variants of Mughlai food. And although now we have booming gastronomies, a new culinary trend is beginning to emerge, which, if you have not yet heard, I do not think you'll be slow to do so. I'm talking about the Kebab, star dish of Mughal cuisine. Perhaps more than one reader has raised his eyebrow and has looked surprised when he heard this. Although if you live (or walk) through the center of large cities you may have already seen, and perhaps tasted, this suggestive dish.

Kebab more than a dish defines a way of eating. It has multiple varieties and possible combinations. After a long study touring the best restaurants and markets, Monish Gujral leave us this complete guide with which we will become experts in kebab. Amateur as I am to cookbooks, I have to highlight the great effort of the author in approaching and explaining in detail a gastronomy so little known to neophytes like me.

His explanations are entertaining, simple and, above all, very visual. Everything starts first by talking about the products that make up the kebab and its way of preparation. Then come the (valuable) tips that teach how to choose a good meat and how to properly cook it. Once we know more about this dish, it's time to start.

Of course, first of all, is the advice given by the author and what makes this type of food something of the most stimulating. In the kebab recipe, imagination plays an important role. You just have to dare! And at this point, each recipe comes with a section of extra ingredients that, if we dare with them, surely give a special spark to the recipes.

If you get hooked on this type of cuisine, your pantry is likely to begin to fill with rare ingredients. But that all this does not slow you down or prevent you from enjoying this gastronomy. Yes, without forgetting another basic advice. The product, the fresher, the better it will be. I have already been able to put into practice some of the recipes, for pleasure and enjoyment of my always grateful stomach.

But Monish Gujral do not want your discovery of this gastronomy to be left alone in its star dish. That's why On the Kebab Trail, goes much further and also includes other recipes with the most surprising appetizers. In addition, within each recipe we find the average time it will take us to do it. I assure you that I am able to reduce it by half, so I have the results that I have.

And, what I liked the most is in some of the recipes are tricks that will give a special touch to the dish. And I hope not to end up giving the book of Monish Gujral to my mother, knowing that she will know how to get a lot more out of it than me.

Monish Gujral on the Kebab Trail