I love sweets of all stripes, but a cold case full of Indian desserts always poses a slew of questions. Why is it pink or seafoam green? Does everything have coconut in it? (No) Can something called barfi actually taste good? (Yes)
In this month's Style I learn how to make gulab jamun, little dough balls made with powdered milk, fried, and dipped in sugar syrup. They are my favorite Indian dessert, and I've been eating my parents' neighbor Veena's version for years, since she brought them to our house when I was a child.
Veena's husband, Rustum, venerates Bob Marley ("That's all he'll listen to in the car," sighs Veena), and so I feel compelled to use as the title of this post the phrase I sing over and over when I'm lucky enough to get a Tupperware bowl of these treats (with apologies to all Rastas).
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