Of Non-Halal Pizza and Liquor-filled Dessert/Papa John's and 5enses!

It's been a while since I did a review. Most restaurants tend to let me down by serving substandard food (arty-farty alert) and take all of my money. True story. And I really don't like trashing people who work with food and health care.

The fact that all of the photos and reviews of the places I've been to are from a few months back is another matter. What if they've gone downhill or decided to clean up their act (the latter is highly unlikely) since then?

So, I'm doing a quick review of a couple of places The W and I went to, less than 48 hours back.

The W is one of your typical born-and-brought-up-in-Saudi kids. He can wax eloquent on the cheesiness of Burger King's double-patty burgers and the crispiness of Al-Baik's chicken nuggets. But what he really, really misses are the pizzas.

I don't mean the fancy wood-fired thin crust pizzas you get at The Park or Tuscana. I'm referring to the American-origin chain-restaurants' DeepDish/Pan Pizza concoctions. The ones where you have to search for the toppings with Sherlock Holmes' hand-lens. Not in Saudi, though (according to W, everything is big in Saudi).

Speaking of chain restaurants, Pizza Hut in India is NOT HALAL. I didn't know of this for the longest time. Post-discovery, we had to submit to the rules of Pizza once a month at home and the very occasional Tuscana run.

So when we spotted Papa John's Pizzeria on Nungambakkam High Road (erstwhile Marks & Spencer building), we made a beeline for it. Nobody would expect a non-Halal outlet on an a densely-Kilakarai populated offshoot of Khader Nawaz Khan/Shafee Mohammed/Wallace Garden Road to be lucrative, right?

We weren't sure if it was open, having seen no full-blown advertisements in the papers or the Internet. I pore over the supplements for over an hour each day, savant-style. I'd be one of those people who answers Duggu correctly in The Hindu adverts, except that I'd know about the UPA and Baichung Bhutia as well, because we get three newspapers and I read them like they're going to help me save lives... there's such joy in procrastinating course-material work in favour of knowing what is happening in every body's life.

Back to Papa John's. It looked functional and festive, so we assumed it was open for business. We were told, however, that today was the By-invite-only opening (spotted a couple of Page 3 celebs!) and that they would start in a couple of days. The surprising part was that they invited us to join them anyway, and give our honest opinion.

We gave them our honest opinion then, and I'm giving it now.

We decided to order the Meal for Two, motivated by the photo of the drool-inducing Chicken Sausage Pizza.

Sadly, Papa John's is NOT Halal. The staff told us just in the nick of time. The meat is machine-cut, so there's no assurance. They do not serve Pork, so it was easy to assume that the place is Halal, but, the moral of the story is that it isn't.

Sigh. Is there any point in continuing the review/meal, we wondered. I mean, I'm strong enough. I was practically Vegetarian throughout school, as all but two of my friends were (are) Vegetarian. And by that I mean they haven't ever tried a carrot or mushroom in their lifetimes. I could totally eat corn and cheese in ten different isomeric forms. I can, and I have.

The W? Whose Pathani blood forbids the eating of cattle-feed? Well. Surgical residency has eliminated any last vestige of picky-ness.

We ordered basic things:

The Meal for Two consisted of a medium-sized pizza, potato wedges/chicken wings and two sodas.

We asked for Pepsi. Guess what it tasted like? Pepsi!! When was the last time you've had "fountain" Pepsi that wasn't 75% water and 15% ice? +1.

The wedges were fluffy inside and crisp outside, with a dusting of salt and herbs. I tentatively asked if they were baked. What do you know? Turns out that they are baked! +100. This little snippet of information ensured that I did not share any of it with the W.

You get a jalapeno and a mustard-butter to dip them into. And the ketchup, obviously.

And then came the piece de resistance. The Barbecue Corn Pizza.

Corn, I take back every sarcastic thing I said about you. Can we be friends again?

When baked under a blanket of melty, gooey mozzarella and smothered with a killer Barbecue sauce, you taste pretty fine.

The pizza base was fantastic. I don't know if it's because it was the first base ever baked for a customer in that outlet. It was spongy, doughy, yummy and most importantly, fresh.

The entire meal reminded me of dining out in the '90s. Pizza Hut was the coolest thing to have happened to Madras. Standing in the queue for hours; pitchers of coke, baskets of cheesy garlic bread and pizza doused with oregano and chilli flakes crowding the tiny tables; everybody fighting for the last slice of pizza left over. Some of the best memories I have of family.

I'll repeat: this isn't olive and feta-topped pizza with a herb-infused dough. It's a fresh, delicious version of Chain-Restaurant Pizza with fantastic sauce and generous cheese. All under four-hundred bucks.

Not that they'd take any money from us. The meal was on the house, since we were the first customers (and I mentioned I was a food blogger).

You should take a bunch of teenage boys who've won the Under-16 Basketball tournament there. They'd win more. You should take your little sister and her posse. So they'd have memories like you do. You should take your Madras-bred, non-high maintenance date: a little bit of the late nineties/early noughties environment will ensure you have loads to talk about.

As for us, since we technically didn't spend any money, we decided to splurge on dessert and headed over to 5enses.

The place had a live band playing. The lighting was dim, the setting cozy and possibly, romantic. As for the food:

Really glad we ate quite a bit beforehand, because while the portions of food are very elegant and pretty, they are tiny. Maybe if a whole of bunch of people went, for the sole purpose of having a nice night out and wear their best duds, YES. Not for a hungry person who just returned three back-to-back surgeries or The Girl with Four Stomachs and/or an ?Insulinoma.

Dessert there was a bit of a bust. Most of the dessert had liquor/liqueur in it. The tiramisu had Kahlua. The Cheesecake had Amaretto, and so on. Exasperating after the whole no-meat thing.

Could not leave without any dessert, though. So out of the limited options, W had the Dark Chocolate (Callebaut) Gelato with Callats.

It was GOOD. Costs Rs. 190 for a scoop. With a butterscotch tuille and all.

 Only excusable because it had real Callebaut in it.

I had the Dark Chocolate-Hot Chocolate with butterscotch bits.

It was really, really bad, especially since each millilitre costs 2 bucks (the tiny cup will set you back by Rs. 190). The chocolate hadn't dissolved completely, it was not at ALL dark, the milk wasn't creamy or frothy... it was, quite simply, bad. In retrospect, I should've marched over to the kitchen and taught them how to brew an actual mug of Hot Chocolate (Mocha, I miss you).

However, the place was lovely, the company was lovely (and by that I mean me, of course. Kidding!) and there was free food and chocolate and All's-Well-Ends-Fantastique.

Spanish Saffron Orange Cake/The Sunshine Cake.

Since the last post on the blog (technically) wasn't dessert, I'm morally obliged to post one. Stat.

This dessert has neither butter nor chocolate in it. Before you go X-ing any Windows, hear me out. It's pretty darned good, and I have it on self-proclaimed excellent authority.

My love for the Mediterranean/Middle-East has grown exponentially over the years. Even though the closest I've got to either place are childhood trips to Paris and shopping/religious visits to the UAE/Saudi Arabia. The fear of sounding like a person who wants to go to "Swiss" for their honeymoon or whatever, keeps me from raving too much about Marrakesh and Mykonos. Discovery Travel & Living has completely done an Inception on my limited brain-space.

It's not just for the food (food is just 90% of the reason). The language, culture, people, smells and overall beauty beckons. And I'm fairly certain MSF (Doctors-Without-Borders) does not post you there, thanks to the lack of Multi Drug Resistant-TB cases and the like.. So I'll have to put these plans on hold until I turn 50 (average age at which a doctor pays off her med-school loans) or when my HLA-typing matches that of an uraemic millionaire (on a serious note, dodgy organ donations for profit is a cruel, unethical act).

So until the day I get to Greece or Turkey, I'll just cook up things with olive oil and chickpeas and plonk myself in front of a foreign film. "A Separation" was a movie I watched recently (yes, I succumb to Oscar buzz) and absolutely loved.

Between the ages of 12 and 17, I baked nothing but chocolate cake. I didn't even like eating anything other than chocolate cake. Until my aunt requested I make something other than "karuppu kokka cake". I made her an Irish Tea Cake she still remembers and mentions at many (and there are many) family gatherings. Since then, I've gone on to bake with everything from carrots to coconut to pumpkin.

The one I'm putting up today is a healthy, light cake you'd love with your morning cuppa.

Make it and one of the following scenarios will happen to you:-

Your mum would proudly send some over to the neighbours (instead of saying "cake again? Cook 'real' food"). Your aunt will request the recipe, thrice. Your cousins/friends would ask for thirds (especially if it's smothered with enough cream and jello). Your grandmother would reminisce about the good old days and since it's not horribly-unhealthy, you make two halfhearted attempts to remind her of glycemic control and stop. The New Family will call you at midnight and thank you whilst you pretend you just rustled it up in your sleep. It's a winner.

Or you can just drink the orange and saffron-scented batter and live fattily happily ever after. It's the blessed truth.

Spanish Saffron Orange Cake:
(Recipe Source: The Greystone  Bakery Cookbook)

Ingredients:

4 cups all-purpose flour
2 Tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 eggs
1-1/2 cups granulated white sugar
2 cups plain whole milk yogurt
2/3 cup vegetable oil (I used 1/3 olive oil, 1/3 cup vegetable oil)
Juice and zest of 2 oranges
2 teaspoons vanilla extract/essence
5 Tablespoons powdered sugar or honey
a pinch of saffron
1 tsp powdered cardamom (from 6-7 elaichi pods)
1 tbsp hot milk

Method:

Grease and flour a 12-cup bundt pan. Preheat oven to 180 degrees Celsius, 375 degrees F.
If you're using a smaller pan, halve the recipe or bake in two batches.

In a medium sized bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, salt and ground cardamom.

Add half the saffron to it to the milk in a small cup and keep aside, letting the saffron infuse into it.

Horrendously expensive Spanish Saffron. You can use much lesser and get away with it.

In a big bowl, mix together the orange zest and granulated sugar.

Rub it all in, until the sugar is tinted orange and the essential oils of the zest flavour the sugar.

Add the eggs to the bowl with the sugar and beat until the mix is thick and pale yellow.  Add the yogurt, oil, 2 Tablespoon of orange juice, saffron milk and vanilla essence.  Stir well to combine.  Fold in the flour mixture.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan.

Bake for 45 to 50 minutes (much lesser baking time if you halve the recipe), or until the top is golden brown and a wooden skewer comes out clean when inserted near the center.

Place the pan on a wire rack for 10 minutes to cool.  Run a knife around the edges of the cake, separating it from the pan. Turn it out and cool completely.

To make the glaze:

Sorry for the horrid picture. My spatial orientation gets out of whack around hot sugar.

In a heatproof bowl, combine the remaining orange juice, remaining saffron and honey/sugar. Heat over medium until it comes to a boil and then turn the heat to Low/Sim. Once it forms a syrup (around 10 minutes), take it off the heat. Poke holes all over the cake with a toothpick. Pour the warm glaze over the cool cake.

This cake apparently keeps well, when wrapped well, for around 2 days. I can't promise that in Madras (heat) or in my household (gluttony).

If you're giving away the cake to someone, always bake a small portion in a cupcake liner, just so you know it does not taste horrendous. You can use pretty cupcake liners, if you have kickass friends like Anisha L!

Serve the way your heart chooses. Especially if you're like me and can't plate food beautifully.

Sprinkle some more powdered sugar on top, if you like to keep it simple.

 I made a "creme Anglaise" with Foster-Clark's custard powder and added a pinch of saffron and half a cup of blanched and chopped pistachios and almonds to it.

You can elevate it with a few fresh orange segments or raspberry/strawberry flavoured jelly/Jell-O. MMM.

I'm going to call this The Sunshine Cake because the actual name is a little long and snobby (it can get away with the pishposh 'tude, mind you). This might even wipe out all negative connotations Sunshine has, thanks to the Merciless May Madras Heat.

To Eat or To Eat. Always the Question.

I'm in a dilemma over which recipe I should post.

For a change, I've got more than enough photos to plaster over the page. I've got solid recipes that would rock your world. They did mine.

Maybe I should talk about my experiments with the humble Chicken Shawarma. Instead of walking down the roading and popping by Citi Square to buy a shawarma (and Diet Coke, duh), I decided to make them for dinner. So instead of spending 70 bucks and ten minutes in toto, I spent 6 hours and significantly more money on crafting out Donner kebabs.

Imagine a chicken shawarma on steroids (which, post-medical education, doesn't make sense because there are steroids other than your garden-variety performance-enhancing [ew] anabolic steroids).

Either way, you get Donner kebabs.

Fluffy homemade pita. Creamy homemade tahini-yogurt sauce. Homemade shawarma pickles. Pomegranate seeds, coriander leaves, crunchy lettuce strewn over. And some homemade garlic french fries thrown into the mix. It's worth every second of those six hours. Did I mention almost all of it was made at home?

Seems like a winner, right?

Until this cake entered my life. Moist orange cake (almost pound-cake like, but still light and fluffy), studded with orange zest and saffron.

It's freakishly healthy, if you skip the glaze and the custard. The glaze is, sadly, to die for. Orange juice, honey and more saffron are heated to a yummy syrup and used to drench the cake.

Topping this cake is a Creme-Anglaise type custard. With some more saffron. Mum is going to kill me when she sees the saffron-box.

Some ruby-red sparkly Jelly/Jell-O bits (from a box, don't judge) and flecks of orange stud it.  Made this cake for family, both old and new. I'm good at Buttering people up (bad at puns, though). You should, too, what with Valentine's Day around the corner and everything. When I put the recipes up. Soon. Pinky swear.

Right now, I'm going to go play work with Instagram. And solve The Mysterious Case of The Missing Nutella Jar. So little time, so much to do.

Garlicky Crispy Baked Potato Wedges!

Forbidden food.

I hate those words.

See, it's one thing for food to be forbidden by law or medicine. For example, pork isn't halal or kosher. Gluten and lactose are off-limits to the intolerant. Puffer fish can be lethal and caffeine isn't recommended for the pregnant and those prone to migraines. All of that makes sense.

What doesn't make sense? Things like Mayonnaise being explicitly forbidden for being sky-high in calories (57 calories in one tablespoon, for the sake of General Knowledge). Having to feel guilty for having had a pizza dinner. Sneaking in cookie dough in when no one is looking. Feeling like a social pariah for being the only one who asks for chocolate-chips on Frozen Yogurt (nothing beats Kiwi Kiss's strawberry Fro-Yo with heaps of dark chocolate-chips. On a half-waffle. With Nutella. And teeny bit of Maple Syrup).
Forbidden food (or men, for that matter) have an unnecessary allure to them.

OK. Enough of my chatter. Let's just do you all a favour and get to the recipe of the day week.

Guilt-free French Fries! That was what I was building up to. French fries have been implicated in everything. America's Obesity Epidemic (Pandemic now, thanks to Globalisation) have McD's skinny fries written all over them. "Intha Peeja-Pargar-Finger chips avoid pannunga" (Picked it up from the hospital).

Should you write them off forever? Probably not. An occasional chunky potato wedge, crispy with salt, should be eaten along with fish fingers/tartar sauce/ketchup. You use those golden fries to pick up the last bits of the breaded chicken, hot sauce and the lettuce that escapes out of the Zinger. But these should be far, far and very few, in between.

However. Old habits die hard (the number of times I've blitzed cocoa powder, bananas and Splenda to make "Nutella". Right). So when I came across this kickass recipe for Baked Garlic French Fries, I did an impromptu fatchild jig and proceeded to modify it for the Madras kitchen. Make it. You will be shocked and satiated and happy. I was.

Garlicky Baked Wedges:

(adapted from Purple Foodie, who adapted it from Lottie+Doof)

Ingredients:

12 garlic cloves, minced
6 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
240 grams potato, cut into chunky wedges, skin on
3 tbsp cornstarch/cornflour
1 1/2 tsp coarse sea salt (or 1 tsp regular salt)
1 1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
½ tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper (I used red chilli powder)

Method:

Preheat oven to 225 degrees Celsius.

Cut the potato into medium-sized wedges, leaving the skin on.
In a large, microwave-safe bowl, heat the olive oil and minced garlic for around one minute on Med-High. The garlic should be fragrant.

Transfer most of the oil (save one tbsp) to a baking dish and grease it well. Leave the garlic in the microwave safe bowl.

Add the potatoes to the garlic-oil mix. Toss around well.

Cover with a microwave-safe tight lid or saran/plastic wrap. Cook on Med to Medium High for at least 3 to 6 minutes. Don't forget to toss the bowl once or twice, midway, so the cooking is even.

It should be translucent around the edges.

In another bowl, combine cornflour, salt, pepper, garlic powder and cayenne and mix well.

Sprinkle it over the hot potatoes. Toss well, so the powder coats most of the potato.

Arrange the potato on the prepared baking dish. Make sure it's all out in one line, not one on top of the other. Bake for around 35-40 minutes, until golden and crisp. Turn over the fries midway during the baking process. Taste one, after it's been slightly cooled; see if it's crisp enough for you. Toss with some salt if you like grainy salt on your fries.

The little garlic bits? Mindblowing deliciousness.

If you do not wish to microwave, just parboil the potatoes, before you coat them with the cornflour mix. The garlic can be sauteed in the olive oil for 30 seconds, tossed about the cut potato and thrown into the cornflour mix.

Serve HOT with ketchup, mayo, red chilli sauce, burgers, steak, donner kebabs or even a paneer roll. The world, my lovelies, is your plate.

Kiwi-Yogurt-Gingersnaps "Tart"

You know of my love for complex dishes. Hours spent in the kitchen: kneading bread, sauces bubbling away to glory for hours on the stove, shaping out cinnamon rolls. On bad days, baking a crusty loaf of bread or a hearty stew makes me feel like I'm capable of accomplishing things.

On some days, I don't have that luxury of time and ingredients. Or the winter (yes, winter) sun warms the kitchen up to oven standards. Or I'm packing on the kilos and have to quit making over elaborate desserts (pshaw) and the like. Enter the wonderment that is yogurt and fruit.

Parfaits. Smoothies. Overnight oats. All delicious and simple. Along the same lines, I give you a slightly more sophisticated dessert with more... adult flavours. Not to sound dodgy.

Flavourful honey, Greek yogurt, gingerbread biscuits and kiwis. I'm not singing the line above. Also, feel totally free to use any other fruit or biscuits/cookie/cracker of your choice.

For example, True Nice biscuits for the "Graham cracker crust" and banana/mangoes as the fruit topping with a teeny bit of toasted coconut would be delicious. Bourbon biscuits for the base, strawberries on top, a little yogurt sweetened with honey. Delicious. Sometimes, yogurt tastes way better than heavy whipping cream. Who knows. Maybe it's the South Indian in me.

I have this gorgeous tart tin that I'm dying to use! No motivation to sit out and roll a buttery pie/pastry crust, so it's total food procrastination. I'll eat a slice of pear tart if you give me one. But do not tell me about the cubes and cubes of cold butter that's been amalgamated in. Sigh.

The one advantage about January/February is the attack of berries and exotic fruit at the greengrocers. Fresh figs, plums, strawberries, avacados and golden pears jostle for space at the spotlight-y area of the various Pazhamudir Nilayams and Chozais. I bought a couple of overpriced kiwi fruit, and decided to make dessert with it. And most of you (except the brother) will agree it's dessert.

Kiwi Yogurt Tart:

Ingredients:
(the following measurements were for the tart tin, I had You can use these ratios for a smaller/bigger tin)

Ginger biscuits or Gingersnaps- 12
Unsalted butter- 1.5 tbsp
Demerara sugar- 2 tbsp

Yogurt (greek/thick/strained)- 1 cup
Honey- 1.5 tbsp (or as per taste)
Vanilla essence- 1 tsp
Kiwi fruit- 1 or 2, cut into slices

Method:

Pulverize the biscuits with a rolling pin until they form coarse crumbs.

With very clean fingers, rub the cubes of cold butter into the crumbs until you get a wet-sandy mixture.

Knead in the brown sugar.

Line a tart tin or any other baking dish with the crumb-mixture. Press it in firmly. If you're short of the base, just add a couple more crushed biscuits and a pat of butter.

Bake the base at 200 degrees celcius in a preheated oven for 6-8 minutes. Take it out and set to cool.

For the filling:

Whip the yogurt with a fork until smooth and creamy. Add in the honey and vanilla. Taste to see if more honey is necessary.

 There goes the last of my Kashmiri saffron honey. Sob/sigh.

If you're serving immediately, you can add the chopped kiwi fruit. If not, add the kiwi at the last minute possible, as they tend to dilute the yogurt with a bittery/soury fluid.

You can hold off on adding the kiwi bits to the yogurt, and instead just place the slices on top.

Top with sliced kiwi, sprinkle on some more demerara if necessary (I like the crunch-y sugar bits) and some toasted nuts.

Nothing more to do than to dig in!

And yes, it isn't a Tarte Tatin oozing with apple/cinnamon-scented caramel. It doesn't have tomato and feta frolicking around with balsamic, basil and coarse salt. It is most definitely not a New York style cheesecake.

But it is still a pretty picture, no?

Besides, the aforementioned sibling, despite refusing his portion and mumbling "fish food", "dieters delight" (very sarcastically), warily scooped out the last bits of the soppy gingery crust and a stray kiwi piece. Ate it and asked me to make it "properly" for him, again. I'm totally not going to.

Chocolate Mousse with Orange Mascarpone/#Happy-ness.

I'm a girl of my word. I said the next post on the blog would have chocolate in it.

What I forgot to sort of-kind of mention is that it'd have almost ONLY chocolate in it. The simplicity of the recipe is directly proportional to the taste. If I could do the blasphemy thing, I'd say it was Heaven in a Cup. It's even better than ganache. As if such a thing could be humanly possible.

Chocolate mousse is the recipe du jour. Don't just dismiss it as a fancy-80s-aunty dessert. Most of the time, I decide it's not worth all the expense and effort to make mousse or souffle of any sort. Separating egg yolks from the whites? Won't (and more importantly can't) do it. Gelatin clumping and smelling like melted plastic? Exasperating. Whipping cream being over beaten and turning into butter? Depressing, even if the buttery mix ends up in my tummy (inside and out), any way.

So when the Father of Molecular Gastronomy puts an exquisite mousse recipe up, I'd run away screaming bloody murder, right? Wrong.

Heston Blumenthal is the guest on Masterchef who reduces everybody to tears ("Oh my God, I can't believe I met Heston Blumenthal; I'm going to remember this all my life; Best day of my life" et cetera.) The contestants look at him, and their knees turn to jelly (passion fruit or persimmon or similar fancy flavours, I'm guessing). I'd imagine it'd be like a microbiologist meeting Louis Pasteur. His recipes take hours and hours to craft.

Not this one. This is easy, but "deelishus", nevertheless. It panders to the little geek in me, the one who had the Junior Chemistry Kit at the age of seven.

Accompanying the chocolate mousse, I made an Orange Mascarpone. Chocolate and orange are one of those grown-up flavours I'm really starting to enjoy. Mascarpone isn't available in Madras, so I made my own. Feel free to serve the mousse with some fresh cream whipped with orange zest and powdered sugar. If you're hell-bent on the mascarpone, I'll tell how to make your own!

The only thing I'm going to insist you do, is that you use good-quality dark chocolate.

Bring out the Ghiardelli, Callebaut, Valrohna, Lindt and Godiva!

It's absolutely crucial that you love the chocolate you're using, because it's going to smack-bang! taste of it, times ten. Any decent dessert-bar Chocolate Mousse is going to cost you way more, anyway.

Heston Blumenthal's Chocolate Mousse with Orange Mascarpone cream:

Ingredients:

For the chocolate mousse:

Dark chocolate- 140 grams
Water- 1/2 cup (115 ml)
Espresso (or instant coffee) - 2 tsps
Granulated sugar - 2 tablespoons (optional)

For the orange mascarpone:

Mascarpone cheese-125 grams
Powdered sugar-2 tablespoons.
Zest of one orange.

Method:

For the chocolate mousse:

Fill a big, heat-proof bowl halfway with ice and cold water. Keep aside.

In a thick-bottomed pan, over medium heat, add the espresso powder to the water. Bring to a boil.

Turn the heat down to low/Sim. Add the chocolate into the coffee.

Stir occasionally until you get a homogeneous, smooth chocolate mixture.

Transfer the bowl into the prepared ice water-bath. Make sure none of the water gets into the mousse.

Beat the chocolate with a hand mixer or a whisk until stiff peaks form.

If the chocolate turns grainy or gloopy, re-heat it until it melts and shock over the ice-water again.

Spoon the mousse into cups.

Refrigerate, covered, for 3 hours or so.

That's the texture you're looking for.

For the orange mascarpone:

Beat all the ingredients until soft peaks form. Do not over-beat.

 Spoon some mascarpone over the mousse or by the side of the mousse and serve immediately.

Easy as that. No wandwork or N.E.W.T-level spells required. This recipe is a bit of a reputation-killer, honestly. I'm sure nobody thinks I'm a cook of any repute after seeing the simplicity behind what I've made. But you'll thank me once you make it..

Hello, my darling.

And eat it. Mmm!