There is something to be said for spending a lot of money on a nice meal out.  There is also something to be said about well-designed portions. The Hardware Grill is one of Edmonton's finest fine-dining establishments. But as Ms Sugar and I talked about on our recent visit, their plate sizes are a little on the hefty side.  If I'm going to have a night of luxe dining complemented by smooth wine and even smoother service, I want the experience to last.  Thus, a 3-course night is generally what's planned for.  Unfortunately, at Hardware Grill 3 courses equals more than just loosening your belt.  The starters are easily the size of mains at other places, which is both a blessing and a curse.  The value is outstanding, but the even larger main that follows tests the size of your stomach.  The solution?  Two appetizers = enough room for dessert. And that is what this post is really about.  Why choose to talk about dessert over the richness of duck confit or the velvety texture of pea ravioli? Because the dessert in question was a pumpkin—you had me at pumpkin—tart.

Polenta crust?  Inventive and tasty but it could have been more tender. Cinnamon ice cream?  Delish, but a tart is not the best for sopping up melted ice cream.  The traditional whipped cream would have been more successful. Poached raw pear?  Trying to take a lady-like morsel of a raw pear with only a fork is not something I want to try again. Fruit Saskatoon compote?  I am a big fan of Saskatoon pie.  Part of what makes the pie work is the crust and cream that soften the blow of the berry's tartness and firm texture.  A mass of this compote just didn't work with the pumpkin... or the raw pear... or the ice cream. Pumpkin filling? Perfection. Verdict:  An awkward mix of flavours and textures. Worth $11?  Not even close. Note to pastry chef:  Bake me a larger tart after you've perfected the crust and be sure to go heavy on the cream. "There's no such thing as too much cream," says Cream.

I tend to shy away from Indian desserts.  For someone who usually awaits the dessert menu with bated breath, this shyness is uncharacteristic.  It’s just that I find Indian desserts too intensely sweet for me.  I want to love the sticky sweetness of jalebi or the doughnut-like galub jamun, but I have not yet acquired the taste.  So, when indulging at Indian buffets, I am most attracted to the large vessel of kheer at the end of the meal.  The fragrant pistachio-studded rice pudding is always slightly runny and always most delicious.

It was at my first book club meeting that I met with an Indian sweet that I would never refuse: coconut cardamom burfi.  Kheer as finger food.  The attractive fragrance of cardamom, the light crunch of pistachio, the creamy colour.  All there.

The recipe is from a great Australian TV series called Food Safari.  Each episode is a look at the cuisine of a specific culture.  The burfi recipe was from the show on India.

Coconut Cardamom Burfi—even a video to help you get started!

My interpretation?

I do weigh out 200 g of coconut—I use unsweetened.  A local supermarket sells 250-g bags and I have a tiny $10 kitchen scale, so it’s pretty simple.

For us here in North America, I use one can of Eagle brand condensed milk.

When cooking the mixture, I find that it takes around 10 minutes.  The change is quite subtle, but you will notice that the mixture seems drier and wants to come together as a large mass rather than something spreadable.

They are the perfect addition to your Christmas baking.  Who doesn’t want to eat snow every now and again?