Making Kashmiri kheer is how I spread new Diwali light

Sweet rice puddings express love and joy in any culture, like this Kashmiri kheer during Diwali.

"It's like Indian Christmas pudding" Source: Sarina Kamini

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I grew up describing Diwali (a religious festival of lights) to my primary school friends as a kind of Indian Christmas.

I explained that we light candles, get new clothes and eat mountains of sweets. At night there is always a party. Unlike our other faith-led celebrations, which involve fasting and puja (worship), Diwali is a bit of light relief (no pun intended). There is puja but it's short, and the kheer that dad ladled straight into our cupped palms at prasad (a Hindu offering) afterwards made up for all the sitting.

Diwali is all about light.

Kheer is somewhat the equivalent of Christmas pudding. On that note, religion can be exclusive in a way that food generally cannot be. For example, not everyone may want to know about the goddess Lakshmi, but they probably won't mind eating a bowl of Kashmiri rice pudding. When I moved to Margaret River in Western Australia with my family in 2015, this approach to Diwali became really important for me: I'd landed in a regional Australian town with no friendships, and I wanted these new people in my life to know where I'd come from – not just geographically, but culturally and philosophically too.

"I wanted these new people in my life to know where I'd come from – not just geographically, but culturally and philosophically too."

My first offering was the Diwali of 2017. I'd been working in the local deli for 18 months by then while I wrote my memoir, Spirits In A Spice Jar, and had got to know some lovely people, along with the food peccadilloes of countless others. I knew Mike was a rocky road tragic and couldn't leave the shop without buying a chunk. I knew Sally came in to slice her bread on our deli slicer, and to buy chorizo for some new recipe and maybe an oozy piece of taleggio. Ute would take a few dozen slices of the German salami. 

But when I brought in my Tupperware of kheer with a packet of tealight candles for Diwali, they also got to know me, and it's been a ritual ever since.

Wherever I'm working, Diwali is a chance to connect with my colleagues, my regulars and the people who have since become my very good friends. I think it's partly because kheer touches on familiar flavours for so many; what culture doesn't have some kind of rice pudding in its cannon of simple sweets?

Kheer touches on familiar flavours for so many; what culture doesn't have some kind of rice pudding in its cannon of simple sweets?

Kheer and a tealight candle offer the receiver a way to explore Diwali in any way they feel comfortable. For my atheist friend, kheer is simply dessert and the candle is a mood enhancer. For others, it's the opportunity to take a moment after dark to express a quiet prayer. My offers are well received because presented in this way, Diwali offers a non-invasive connection made attractive by the accoutrements. But I also think Diwali offers a connection because its messages are so universal: homecoming, good over evil and the kind of wealth and prosperity that's focused not just on dollars, but on health and family.

The kheer recipe I've included below is my Kashmiri grandmother's, given to me by dad when I left home. Serve it after dark accompanied by a lit candle. And say a prayer for the good things in your life. 

Photography by Sarina Kamini. Styling by Sarina Kamini. Food preparation by Sarina Kamini. 

Love the story? Follow the author here: Instagram @sarina_kamini.

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Cardamom rice pudding (kheer)

Serves 4

Saffron is the key to making the sweetness of this Kashmiri kheer palatable; it's a strong, aromatic frame for sugar and reduced milk.

Ingredients

• 150 g basmati rice
• 5 cups milk
• 50 g slivered almonds
• 4 green cardamom pods, cracked
• Pinch saffron threads, crushed
• 1¼ cups caster sugar
• Silver leaf to decorate 

Method

1. Rinse and soak the basmati rice then leave it aside. After 3 hours, strain the rice, rinse and pat it dry with a kitchen towel. Set aside.
2. In a large, heavy-bottomed pot, heat 5 cups of milk on medium-high heat until it starts to come to a boil, stirring continually.
3. Turn down to medium heat and add the cracked green cardamom pods, slivered almonds and reserved basmati rice. Continue to cook on medium heat for around 20 minutes or until the rice has softened, stirring continually.
4. Spoon 2 tbsp of the warmed milk from the pot into a small bowl. Crush the saffron just a little and then stir it through the small bowl of warmed milk until it releases its colour. Add to the kheer.
5. Once the saffron is stirred through, add the caster sugar, stirring continually the entire time.
6. Swap the wooden spoon for a metal spoon and continue cooking the kheer on medium heat until the rice has thickened and yellowed. This should take a further 20 to 30 minutes.
7. Once ready, remove the kheer from the heat and serve into small bowls. Decorate with a silver leaf if you have one handy. Refrigerate for a few hours. 
8. Remove the bowls of kheer from the refrigerator 20 minutes before serving.