Rice Pudding (Payesh/Kheer)

Indian Rice Pudding (Payesh/Kheer)

 

"Kheer, sometimes called Payesh/Kheer, is a popular pudding or porridge in the Indian subcontinent. It is typically created by boiling rice (Bhadashavog/Govindovog Rice), Tejpata, sugar, Michri, Lal Batasha, and Elachi. Dried fruits can be used to flavor it considerably.

"Payesh" is a Bengali dish typically served after Indian buffets and is meant for special occasions. In Bengal, this Indian rice pudding is the national dish, although in the West, cake is consumed on birthdays. Annaprashan is a Hindu rite of passage that means "eating food" or "eating rice." It honors the child's first taste of solid food and is held on a lucky day. Payesh is also commonly served at events like weddings, but luckily, you can savor this meal before a birthday or wedding.

I/we should have known since we were heading to Thorne for some post-Hannaford dinner with our carton of milk, a bouquet of roses, a box of rice, and a carton of eggs—this interesting combination of ingredients produced payesh. This Bengali rice pudding was another suggested treat. My roommate Aniqa cooked rice with thick milk over low heat for three hours at midnight, which gave the rice a flawlessly creamy texture and infused it with aromatic spices. The next day, we sliced dates, cashews, and pistachios to add to the payesh for a stunning pop of color. We also picked, cleaned, and chopped rose petals.

Payesh has a rich and delightful history. According to legend, payesh first appeared at a prince's temple in Orissa 2,000 years ago, when he used rice balls and sweetened milk to show how to solve an architectural puzzle. After the emaciated Buddha attained enlightenment beneath a bodhi tree, Sujata paid payesh to him, ending his six-year austere life.

In Bengali culture today, payesh is a traditional dessert for many momentous events. Mothers may consume payesh during "saadh," a ritual meant to satisfy their appetites, before giving birth. The "Annaprasan" ceremony marks the baby's first experience with solid food, most notably payesh, following birth. Furthermore, payesh will undoubtedly be offered on their birthday.

Serving payesh was a serious and elaborate affair a few centuries ago, akin to the Japanese tea ceremony. The way the texture of the payesh cooled dictated when it should be poured and what size bowls to use. Using a particular utensil to eat payesh depended on one's standing in the family. For the "karta," the head of the household, there was a deep bowl with high rims called a "jaam bati." Children might use smaller bowls or circular, oblong plates.

However, there were no bowls or special utensils for the women. Rather, the ladies were expected to divide the payesh among themselves from a sizable communal bowl. But there was a treat exclusive to this anticipation. The large bowl led to a build-up of "chaachi," the crust that forms on the pan's sides as the payesh dries and thickens. To get at the delicious, crunchy parts, women would use a pointed spoon to scrape down the sides.

For the first time, we exclusively had female applicants for dessert persons this week. We listened as Megh, who had suggested the dish, described how her grandfather loved payesh and how deeply ingrained the dish is in her family's customs. We got to know one another and exchanged tales, and as we did so, a warmth grew within of me that we could make such a soft and private area where women could be with other women, freely express themselves, and share our experiences.

It has long been accepted that women should prepare meals in the nuclear family. In popular culture, the kitchen is frequently portrayed as not only a place reserved for women but also as the hub of gossip, where stories start, and drama ensues. Women chop vegetables and stir pots passively while chatting, whining, or showing vanity, while males watch sports on the couch and discuss vital topics like jobs, money, and business.

The kitchen feels a touch too comfortable and familiar at times, and I've caught myself thinking as much. Men have asked me to cook for them on several occasions, acting as though I owe them because they know I love to do it. When did people start to expect my cooking because that's what I'm supposed to be excellent at, instead of just enjoying it as a hobby? And why should it be that my value as a woman was inadvertently determined by my ability to break free from the preconceptions that are applied to women? I should hide or stifle my desire.

Maybe I was afraid I wouldn't get a special utensil and that I wouldn't get a bowl of my own. However, after the last Dessert Persons gathering, I discovered that my favorite part of the meal was the shared bowl. I enjoy eating the crispy parts and scraping the sides. Those are the sweetest parts. They also arrive with the greatest company.

I should have a seat at the table and relish the days when I'm served Payesh. However, I love to cook and feed the people I care about. Therefore, my favorite days are the ones when I am feeding others. That's what Payesh is all about.