The Sweet Heart of a Bengali Kitchen

No Bengali meal feels finished without something sweet, and in Sylheti households the sweet course carries a great deal of meaning. A tray of shirni announces a wedding, a plate of naru arrives with a new baby, and payesh is simmered slowly on Eid morning while the house is still quiet. The good news for anyone cooking in Britain is that most of these sweets need nothing more exotic than full-fat milk, sugar and a little patience. The equipment is a heavy pan, a wooden spoon and a clean tea towel. What matters is timing: how far you take the milk, how long you knead the chhana, and how thick you let the syrup become.

Chhana: The Foundation of Almost Everything

Sandesh, rôshogolla, chomchom and rôshomalai all begin with chhana, a fresh curd cheese. Skimmed, long-life or "filtered" milks behave badly here, so buy the richest whole milk you can find, ideally unhomogenised. The method is simple once you have done it twice.

• Heat 2 litres of whole milk in a wide, heavy pan until it is steaming and just about to rise, then take it off the heat.
• Stir in 4 tablespoons of lemon juice mixed with 4 tablespoons of cold water, a spoonful at a time, until the milk splits into white curds and pale green whey. Add a little more acid only if it has not split after a minute.
• Pour in a cup of cold water to stop the cooking, then tip everything through a muslin-lined sieve.
• Rinse the curds under cold running water for a few seconds to wash away the lemon taste, then gather the muslin and hang it for 45 to 60 minutes — no longer, or the chhana turns dry and grainy.
• Turn the drained curds onto a clean surface and knead with the heel of your hand for 8 to 10 minutes, until the mixture is smooth, slightly glossy and a little greasy to the touch.

That ball of chhana is the whole craft. Everything after it is flavouring and shaping.

Sandesh: The Gentle Place to Start

Sandesh is the most forgiving Bengali sweet for a home cook, because it is cooked rather than boiled in syrup. Take 250g of freshly made chhana, crumble it finely, and put it in a non-stick pan with 70g of caster sugar. Cook over the lowest heat you can manage, stirring constantly, for 8 to 10 minutes, until the mixture thickens, pulls away from the sides and holds together in a soft mass. Do not let it brown.

Spread it onto a greased plate, leave it for five minutes to cool slightly, then work in the seeds of 4 green cardamom pods, crushed to a powder, and a teaspoon of rose water. Press the mixture flat to about 2cm, scatter with slivered pistachios, and chill for an hour before cutting into diamonds or small squares. In winter, replace half the sugar with nolen gur, the date palm jaggery that gives sandesh its dark, smoky depth.

Rôshogolla and Rôshomalai

These demand a firmer chhana. Knead 250g of chhana with a teaspoon of plain flour and a tablespoon of sugar until it is pliable, then roll it into 12 to 14 smooth balls, working each one between your palms until no cracks remain. Any crack will split open in the syrup.

For the syrup, bring 1kg of sugar and 1.2 litres of water to the boil in a wide pan, add a few cardamom pods, and let it reach the stage where a drop between finger and thumb forms a single thin thread. Slide in the balls, cover, and simmer gently for 20 minutes; they will swell to twice their size. Cool them in the syrup, where they keep for about five days in the fridge.

Rôshomalai is the same sweet finished differently. Reduce 1.5 litres of whole milk by half with 80g of sugar, a pinch of saffron and a little cardamom, then pour it over drained, cooled rôshogolla. Chill overnight before serving.

Mishti Doi and Payesh: Sweets You Stir, Not Knead

Mishti doi needs no chhana at all. Simmer 1.5 litres of whole milk down to about a litre, add 100g of sugar, and caramelise a teaspoon of sugar separately in a small pan until dark, stirring it in for colour. Cool the milk to lukewarm — about 40C, no hotter, or the culture dies — then whisk in 3 tablespoons of live natural yoghurt. Pour into small clay pots if you have them, or ramekins if not, and leave in a warm spot such as an airing cupboard for 6 to 8 hours until set.

Payesh, the Bengali rice pudding, belongs to every celebration. Bring 1.5 litres of whole milk to a simmer with a bay leaf and 3 bruised cardamom pods, add 4 tablespoons of short-grain or chinigura rice, and cook uncovered for 45 minutes, stirring often and scraping the base. Sweeten at the end with 90g of sugar, then finish with raisins, slivered almonds and pistachios. It thickens as it cools, so serve it a little looser than you want it.

Naru, Chira and the Sylheti Sweet Table

Not every Bengali sweet involves milk. Sylheti kitchens lean on jaggery, coconut and puffed rice, which keep far better and travel well in lunchboxes.

• Naru: melt 200g of jaggery with a splash of water, stir in 250g of desiccated coconut and a pinch of cardamom, and cook for 5 minutes until the mixture clumps. Roll into small balls while warm, then cool until firm.
• Til naru: the same method with toasted sesame seeds instead of coconut, traditionally eaten in winter.
• Chira: plain flattened rice tossed with thick yoghurt, jaggery and a little grated coconut — five minutes, and the taste of a Sylheti childhood.

Store sandesh and naru in the fridge for three days, rôshogolla in their syrup for five, mishti doi for three or four, and payesh for two. Bring everything to room temperature before serving, when the cardamom, rose and jaggery all speak more clearly.