What kind of a guest are you?

I was a busy hostess in 2006. I had visitors for at least a week almost every month, some even back-to-back. It was a wonderful year because so many friends, clients and colleagues visited us! It was also a year that I remember washing, cleaning, and cooking the most. I vowed to make 2007 the year of Manisha the Guest! I was kidding, of course, but it made me think long and hard about being a guest in someone else's home.

Apart from not sitting on my butt and helping out while I am there, there are some things that I like to do before we leave.

• If I have enough time between waking up and leaving, and I have access to a washer and dryer, I pull all the sheets off the bed, run them through the wash and put them back on the bed.
• If we borrowed towels from our hosts, I wash those, too.
• I clean the bathroom as much as possible.With my unending supply of Lysol wipes, I wipe down all the surfaces, including the washbasin, toilet, bath and floors.
• If I have access to a vacuum cleaner, I clean the carpeted floors of the room we occupied. Or swiffer wooden floors clean.

There are times when I cannot do any of these because we may have to leave at an ungodly hour or the washer may be in a shared laundry. Most of my hosts appreciate my efforts, especially if they work through the week. There are some who would rather you did not get into their cleaning and left them to do it. So I always ask first.

My last few guests were fabulous! Gabi washed all my dishes as I struggled with my errant printer to get her boarding passes printed. Before Thanksgiving, a family of five stayed with us and, despite having a sick child, they cleared up the guest bedroom and the family room so much that it was probably cleaner than when they first arrived!

I take pride in being a good guest. But, unfortunately, that went for a toss when we showed up at Anita's in Delhi with our suitcases of unwashed laundry.

It started with water woes in Bombay. Barely enough water; for too short a time. We were not able to shower for over 36 hours since our arrival. Ick. It was winter for them but it was warm and humid for us! There was no question of washing any clothes either!

After checking with Anita, I decided to carry our laundry to Delhi. She assured me that her washer squeezed the daylights out of the clothes that they barely took an evening to line dry. Unfortunately for us, the sun decided that it would take a break that very day to let the clouds reign and, yes, our clothes didn't dry. Not that evening nor that night. I was now looking at several tall clothes-racks worth of damp clothes that I needed to take with me to Agra and Jaipur. I was already shaking from the visions of smelly rotting clothes by the time we got to our hotel. So I got to work briskly and did the one task I hate more than doing laundry itself: ironing. I chose the bed as it had the largest surface area. Tees and shirts were a breeze. The jeans killed me. And then, there was more.

Suddenly, the blue sheets I was looking at, turned into large — and I mean really large — splotches of dark red. Huh? I had burned right through the sheets to the red mattress underneath and scorched that, too. In my haste, I did not place a sheet on the bed as I had assumed that the sheets were cotton and that the mattress would be, too. Mine are and I live in the land of everything synthetic. When I lived in India, all my mattresses and sheets were cotton so hers had to be, right? Wrong. Those sheets were a gift from someone, had a synthetic fiber in them and had never been used before. The red mattress was an expensive orthopedic kind. Brand new sheets. Brand new mattress. Ruined. By me. The exemplary guest.

At that point, I wanted to scream and wished the ground would open up, swallow me and those darned damp clothes. Medha, on the other hand, was very excited that it wasn't her but me, the infallible, who had done something wrong. You can't hide that, you know! You're going to have to tell her! I mean look at the size of those holes in the sheets! La! la! la! La! LA! She danced all around me as I tried to whack her with a damp pair of jeggings.

Anita soon strode into our room to tell us that we needed to get our act together as the rental car was on its way. In one fell swoop of her eagle gaze, she saw. Yes, that ground definitely needed to do its thing but it wasn't budging. The good host that she is, she didn't say anything but just lay down a thick sheet on the bed and asked me to iron over that instead. All I could do was whimper my apologies over and over again.

I had barely met her and here I was, testing our friendship already. But, you know, I am lucky, lucky, lucky to have the most genuine people as my friends. Anita was hugely matter-of-fact about it all and brushed it off as any gracious friend would. As Jen put it the other day, albeit in another context: friends are important because they will love us no matter how moronic we are. Apparently, I can be worse than moronic.

As a peace offering, I brought Anita a Rajasthani bedspread with pillow covers from Jaipur. She had a near-identical bedspread. I felt like I just could not win.

So as a final peace offering — because she has a bunch of gelatin packets she needs to use up — here's a panna cotta that I made as dessert for a dosa party that I hosted last Friday. I didn't have enough time to bake, prep or stir and yet I wanted something with Indian flavors. I had a tin of Kesar Mango Pulp and I had half-and-half. The stage was set for a panna cotta redolent of kheer and aamras. I based this on David Lebovitz's Perfect Panna Cotta recipe, substituting half-and-half for heavy cream.

Mango Panna Cotta

For the Panna Cotta

• 1 quart half-and-half
• 1/2 cup organic cane sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 6-7 pods of green cardamom
• 2 packets gelatin
• 6 tbsp cold water

For the mango topping

• 1 30oz can of Kesar Mango Pulp
• 1 tbsp lemon juice
• 7-8 pods of green cardamom
• 1.5 packets gelatin
• 12 tbsp cold water
• Crushed pistachios for garnish

For the Panna Cotta

1. Crush each cardamom pod lightly to open it and remove the seeds from within. Pound these into a fine powder using your mortar pestle.
2. Take 6 tbsp of cold water in a medium bowl, sprinkle 2 packets of gelatin over it and allow it to stand for 5-10 minutes or according to the directions on your gelatin packets.
3. Heat half-and-half in pan over medium-low heat, add sugar.
4. Stirring occasionally, heat until the sugar is dissolved.
5. Take it off the stove and add vanilla extract as well as the cardamom powder to this half-and-half mixture. Mix well.
6. Pour the warm half-and-half mixture over the gelatin and stir until completely dissolved.
7. Divide this panna cotta mixture into at least 12 or more dessert glasses, shot glasses or even wine glasses, leaving as much or a little less room for the mango mixture at the top.
8. Cover each individual glass with plastic wrap and chill in the refrigerator for between two to four hours.

For the mango topping

1. Once the panna cotta has set, mix lemon juice with water in a medium bowl and sprinkle gelatin over it. Allow to stand for 5-10 minutes. Same drill as for the panna cotta.
2. Warm mango pulp gently at medium-low heat for a few minutes.
3. Take off the stove, and add freshly pounded cardamom powder and stir well.
4. Pour mango pulp over gelatin mixture and stir until completely dissolved.
5. Remove the panna cotta from the refrigerator, uncover and spoon the mango mixture into the glasses.
6. Cover and refrigerate for another two to four hours until the mango mixture has set.
7. Before serving, remove plastic wrap and garnish with crushed pistachios.

Notes:

• I wish I had remembered that I had pure Kashmiri saffron and added that to the panna cotta as well. Next time!
• The mango pulp is already sweetened so the lemon juice helps by adding a hint of tartness to the pulp.
• Sometimes my gelatin does not dissolve completely. When this happens, I strain the mixture before pouring it into the glasses.
• I usually have mango mixture left over. I pour it into wine glasses and offer it to those who cannot handle dairy.
• I don't bother unmolding the panna cotta as that increases the number of glasses and bowls used. If you want to unmold it, then reverse the steps and make the mango mixture first, allow it to set and then pour the panna cotta over it. But really, why?

My friends loved the Indian flavors of this panna cotta even though they haven't tasted aamras before. The touch of aamras really made this panna cotta memorable.

A reasonably delicious peace offering, I think!

So, what kind of a guest are you?