Milk Toffee

Condensed milk was a luxury back in the day — expensive, and exotic.

Given how infrequently it was purchased — and for a single breadwinner, lower-middle class family, how expensive it was — the rarity of the Milkmaid tin’s appearance presented a dilemma.

I was torn between consuming it or permitting its intended use in the creation of a much-loved sweetmeat. I chose both obviously, but this perfectly reasonable logic was rejected by Archchi, albeit lovingly.

Mixed with very generous portions of cashews, and sometimes even raisins, I remember never leaving the vicinity of the oven, because the smell of hot toffee was so mouth-watering.

The process of cutting it up into small squares (Archchi was a perfectionist) invariably resulted in smaller, non-geometric pieces that were immediately consumed or stored in a jar — zealously guarded from a much elder sister who was assessed as a key threat to this prized stash.

For me, this recipe is personal, and precious like a Proustian madeleine — triggering evocative memories of family, country, childhood, and memories of Archchi, who I adored.