Every single time I visit Topkapı palace I think I am back to India touring the palaces of the once-mighty maharajas. Intricately carved marble, symphony of the floral and geometrical patterns on the walls, thrones laid with mother-of-pearl, oversized jackets made of the fine handwoven silk embroidered with gold. Those displayed at the spacious courtyards of the Topkapı palace in Istanbul are not so different from the exhibits at the maharaja palaces in Rajasthan. Who is to blame for these similarities — the Mughals, the Seljuqs or the Persians before anybody else?
The same difficult-to-trace and nevertheless obvious connection exists between the Turkish and Indian sweets. Sweets in India are made, sold, bought, indulged and shared as religiously as they are in Turkey. Diwali and Holi are no different from the Ramadan Bayram and Kurban Bayram when the sweet shops make their annual turnover within a day. The shops transform into the fortresses, and their formidable walls of ornate boxes and piled sweets are besieged by the shoppers hoping to get enough sweet supplies for the family visits and hosting the potential guests.
A fair bit of Turkish and Indian sweets are similar. Think of a dough morsel first deep-fried and then soaked in plenty of sugar syrup. If you are Indian you will say jelabi or gulab jamun. A Turk will be sure it is halka or tulumba tatlısı. Another sweets category common for both countries is helva, made of a ground or minced substance mixed with sugar and maybe a fat. Tahini-, flour-, semolina-, or fruit-based this sweet can be prepared at home or bought, always in generous quantities to be shared with family, neighbors and friends on special occasions.
My favorite in India was milk cake: its name is hugely deceiving because we are talking about a kind of helva here. Indian milk cake is made of cardamon-flavored curdled milk stewed with sugar until it becomes a very thick paste. I missed no opportunity to make a stop at the local sweets shop at Malvia Nagar where I lived in Delhi and procure a few squares. Once on a train from Kalkuta to Delhi I was offered a homemade milk cake by my compartment neighbor who got the box from his sister. I took a piece, and he encouraged me to take more. I can’t hide if I really like the food (or if I don’t), and I guess he could see my enthusiasm. He presented the rest of the box to me, and I accepted it without feeling too guilty about my shameless affection for the milk cake.
And then there are a lot more Indian helva types to write home about. I have found memories of ladoo (chickpea flour, semolina and ground coconut cooked with sugar and ghee) and gajar ka halwa (grated carrot simmered in the coconut milk) I savored at many religious functions and family gatherings.
The carrot helva in its other reincarnation can be found in every shop selling dry fruits and nuts or Turkish delight in Turkey. Cezerye are the sweet, sticky, loaded with hazelnuts (and if you are lucky — with royal pistachios) thin carrot paste squares coated in the coconut shavings. Cezerye might be looked down upon: there is nothing too noble neither about the carrots nor about cooking it for an hour versus skillfully bringing sugar syrup to the right consistency for the tender Turkish delight. But it is hard not to fall for these addictive carrot bars that are very easy to make. When the crunchy sweet carrot season kicks off it is not a bad idea to get back in touch with your not so improbable Mughal, Seljuqs or Persians roots, make a box of cezerye and share it away.
Turkish Carrot Bars (Cezerye)
Prep time 10 Min
Cook time 1 H
Total time 1 H 10 Min
Makes about 24 small squares
Ingredients
650 g carrot, unpeeled, thoroughly washed and grated
1 cup water
230 g sugar
1/4 tsp ground clove (optional)
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon (optional)
1/4 tsp ground ginger (optional)
1 tsp lemon juice
30 g Antep pistachio
15 g coconut flakes
Directions
Cook grated carrots in a pot covered with a lead on the medium heat with 1 cup water for about 20 min, or until the carrots are very soft. Check the carrots a few times and stir to prevent sticking to the bottom. Then add sugar, the spices and lemon and continue cooking uncovered on the medium heat. Stir frequently and cook until the moisture completely evaporates, the carrot paste starts sticking to the bottom and you start sensing the caramel smell (about 40 min). There should be no moist sound left when you stir the paste, and if you take a little pinch and squeeze it between your fingers the paste will stick to them.
Now stir in the nuts, transfer the carrot paste to a small try and evenly spread with a spatula. Let cool completely then cut into squares, roll in the coconut flakes and serve. Another option for shaping is rolling small balls. Keep in the airtight container at room temperature for 1-2 weeks.
