Strawberry shortbread frozen yogurt
Hello, everyone! Happy New Year. Did you all have good Christmases? I'm sorry for disappearing for so long. I did have my reasons, I swear. You can read below or just skip ahead to the next picture of froyo :)
I went back to London for a couple of weeks in November to renew my visa and perhaps my sanity. Our family moved around so much when I was young, I've always felt a bit rootless. Am I Indian? Am I British? I identify as both and yet neither, not completely. I suppose the closest word to describe my state might have been that horribly vague term, NRI (non-resident Indian), which only emphasises that you're out of place. But when I landed in London this time, it dawned on me that I'd actually been homesick, for the very first time I can remember. Now I know I do have an identity: I'm a Londoner. And I hope that stays the beautifully inclusive thing it has been for me.
I spent every day meeting people I love and realised how vast and deep a network that is. I did a lot of cooking/baking too (sorry) but I'd forgotten to take along my camera and didn't want to subject you to poor-quality photographs. It was only meant to be two weeks, so I didn't think much of it. But then, in the second week, my mum called. Appoy, my dad's dad, had passed away.
I don't know how to describe my Appoy to you. He was an incredibly brilliant man, often lost in his own thoughts. He was forever learning, forever seeking to extend his knowledge. He travelled the world and wrote a book about his travels. He studied in Bristol in his twenties and could still, fifty years later, navigate its streets from memory. To keep his mind sharp, he memorised the Oxford dictionary. As he got older, his eyesight and hearing deteriorated. He couldn't read anymore but he still watched the news, at full volume, and it became my grandmother's task to read him the papers each morning.
More than anything though, he was a kind, gentle and loving man. Social niceties may have meant little to him but he doted on his wife, children and grandchildren. I hope that someday someone will look at me the way he looked at my Amina; that complete trust, concern and devotion. I couldn't count the number of times he told us my grandmother was the most beautiful girl in her college. With his daughter and sons, he was affectionate, supportive and involved. Whenever we'd leave Cochin after a visit, it was the way he would hug my dad, his carbon copy, that would choke me up. With us, his grandchildren, he was funny and silly. Throughout my childhood, he used the same jokes. 'Old MacDonald had a farm, Rhea-Rhea-o. And on his farm he had a cow, Rhea-Rhea-o.' This developed into him poking our tummies at random and saying 'oink oink' or 'quack quack'. My name is too short for nicknames but it's because of him my dad's side have one for me. Dad took that photo of him on the phone; I'm calling from London and he'd just said 'Ah, Rhea baby!' He often couldn't hear me at all. For him, it was enough that I called.
He died very suddenly, with so little warning that Richa and I couldn't go for the funeral. But he went peacefully, without pain, and with his affairs in order. I think he knew it was coming. Every time we spoke last year, he ended each conversation with 'I love you so much. You are so dear to our hearts.' I hung up each time a little afraid, knowing deep down he was saying goodbye just in case. He passed away not long after my dad went to spend a week with them. While he was there, Dad told him he'd take care of Amina if anything ever happened. I think that was all he needed to hear.
The reason I took a hiatus is that it's tradition, as Syrian Christians, to hold a 40-day-long mourning period and to also not celebrate Christmas that year. I suspect Appoy would have said that was complete rubbish but it felt strangely right to do. It's such a small way to show our love and respect. My first post to begin the new year, though, had to be something sweet. Appoy often showed his love by taking us out for ice cream or bringing us treats from the shop. If we took him to a large buffet, he'd skimp on his main so he could gleefully try all the desserts. It's a habit he passed down to all his grandchildren. We love you so much, Appoy. You are so dear to our hearts.
This frozen yogurt is so easy and yet so delicious. You only need a handful of ingredients, you can make this dairy-free by using soya or coconut yogurt, and you do not need an ice cream maker. Ding ding ding! Go make this now. The frozen strawberries give this the freshness of sorbet without the artificial flavour or over-tanginess (since going dairy-free, I abhor most sorbets), the honey lightly sweetens whilst preventing ice crystals forming, and the yogurt and coconut milk keep this froyo wonderfully creamy. I crushed up a couple of gluten-free chocolate chip shortbread cookies but you can use whatever biscuit you'd like here. Go crazy!
Strawberry shortbread frozen yogurt
Serves 3.
INGREDIENTS
- 2 1/2 cups frozen strawberries
- 1/2 cup unsweetened yogurt (plain, soya or coconut)
- 1/4 cup canned coconut milk or double cream
- 4 tablespoons honey
- 2-3 shortbread cookies
METHOD
In a food processor or high-speed blender, add the strawberries, yogurt, coconut milk and honey and blend until completely smooth. Pour into a freezer-safe plastic container.
Seal the shortbread cookies in a sandwich bag and crush them with a rolling pin or other heavy object. Reserve a third to decorate and fold the rest of the cookie crumbs into the frozen yogurt mixture.
Freeze overnight. To prevent it becoming icy, I recommend whisking the mixture every half hour for the first three hours.
When ready to eat, leave the froyo at room temperature for at least 5 minutes before scooping. If it's at all icy or hard, leave it for a couple more minutes, stir it well until it's nice and creamy again, and then scoop away.
Sprinkle over the reserved cookie crumbs and dig in.
Notes: making this again in London, I realised that the frozen strawberries are much sweeter in Dubai so adjust the honey accordingly - you could also use stevia, xylitol or sugar.