|The grandmother of all bebincas. A night in the fridge meant that some of the butter & fat had|
solidified and become white. I cut slices and poppet it into the micro for ten sec and shared it
with a friend who had come over to chant
‘You will find this bebeinca to be different. It is made by a woman locally (in Goa) who still uses a wood fired oven.’
Her words came back to me when I opened the pack at home today and was immediately enshrouded by the aromas of coconut, butter and smoke. I cut a slice, warmed it and then marvelled at its moist lusciousness as I took a bite of the bebenca followed by a sip of my morning espresso.
How could something that was so heavy to carry be so light inside, I wondered.
I realised that while I have had many bebincas (a Goan Portuguese layered cake) in the last two decades, you could say that I had not really had one till today. This was the mother of all bebincas. Or the grandmother actually!
|Tea, the Bandra Goan way|
She had come to meet her baby granddaughter and had most kindly brought the massive bebenca made in a wood fired oven for me.
Starring in the tea last evening was a gooey chocolate cake baked her daughter who hosted us for tea. There was cream cheese and chives and onion jam and cheddar finger sandwiches. Fortnum & Mason violet (reminded me of the lavender flavoured biscuits of Nice) cookies and jam biscuits from her recent trip to London plus some Earl Grey to make the evening complete.
Yes, yes. I am the lucky one indeed
|With chef Sarita, her daughter and granddaughter|
Who is chef Sarita? Click here and read it to know more.