Milagrin amim borem ékh Bebimk khoria ghô, tum ani anv...Milagrin let's prepare a dazzling Bebimca...

Agô Milagrin Bebimk khôrya mugo... Milagrin let's prepare a dazzling Bebimca...

Milagrin spreads out her arms in her characteristic manner, she is very happy.

‘Bebimku, tuk kit zalam?’ ‘Bazran exim meddtai. Tuem aiklôm nam?’ ‘bebimk ghê, bebimk ghê...’’Eshkon katrun ditai...’

For once the ‘vokol-bhai’ splits a smile, starts laughing and hugs Milagrin for her joyfulness and simplicity.

Milagrin amim borem ékh Bebimk khoria ghô, tum ani anv...

Bebimca one of the richest desserts in terms of ingredients was born out of frugality...

A look at what could have happened in the prestigious Real Mosteiro de Santa Clara de Vila do Conde

The Abbess D. Isabel Nascimento, was very concerned, she had much to do, much to worry about. 

A glance over the broad expanse of the kitchen gardens, magnificent as they were, always brought a sense of peace and solace for her.

She smiled as she cast her mind back to when she had joined the Convent at seventeen.

How sad she had been, she had never wanted to join the Cloister. Who would have wanted to relinquish freedom for these walls?

Fate however had not dealt her a good hand; she was plain, very intelligent but plain, and as her shrewd Father put it to her,

 ‘Isabel you are intelligent but men like to marry meek and beautiful girls’.

So Convent it was for her, her Father had paid a large dowry and as he said with a wry laugh,

‘Even Jesus wants a dowry. One would have thought that after all His preaching about poverty; Jesus would not have minded a poor bride!’

Of course she had never wanted to be a Bride of Christ; she had wanted a man of flesh, blood coursing through his veins, a man who would keep her warm during those long winter nights.

But she was a woman of principles and determination; she would not neglect her duties, she would make her life a success.

And she had done just that, through sheer determination and astuteness she now was the Abbess of the Real Mosteiro de Santa Clara one of the most prestigious Convents in Portugal.

But she, as she was well aware of, lacked the patience and calmness required to console young girls who had been unwilling to join the Convent, sometimes forced by parents, sometimes jilted by a man.

Now look at that young girl Teresa, pampered and spoiled by her doting old father. The Abbess knew Teresa had lost her mother and was very lonely and terribly sad, she now imagined herself in love with that lout Simão.

The Abbess loathed Teresa when she wept, when she yearned for ‘her’ Simão.

However, her astute mind never forgot that Teresa was rich, very rich indeed, the only pampered daughter of an old father. It was for this reason, this reason alone that the Abbess tolerated her weeping, when in reality she yearned to wring her neck and knock some sense into her.

She glanced at another girl, weeding the garden. The Abbess admired this girl; this one had pluck, Joanna the daughter of the King of Portugal. The Abbess could never figure out Joanna. She never displayed her inner turmoil.

Was she here of her own free will as the King had explained to the Abbess?

Or was it that Joana like the Abbess herself, had failed to find a husband?

Whatever the reason, Joanna never let her feelings show; she was calm, very hard working and had a wonderful sense of humor too.

But the Abbess was not thinking of the girls, their virtues or their failings.

She was worried about the terrible waste in the kitchen.

The Abbess loved good food, loved celebrating all feasts, but wasting food or anything for that matter was just not to be tolerated.

The other Nuns called her ‘the Miser’, ‘the Plebeian’.   

The Aristocratic Nuns were aware that the Abbess was a Plebeian; that she came from the Trader Class, that she had brought a fabulous dowry. 

But, they also knew her to be a very astute business person, just like her Trader Papa. 

 ‘Is she not the person who takes our dowries and lends it at high rates of interest?’ the Aristocrats mumbled

‘And that allows us to have a luxurious life,’ retorted the Plebeian Nuns. 

Everyone knew that the convent produced hundreds of eggs; hundreds of egg whites were sold to clarify wines, egg whites were also used for preparing the hosts used in the Holy Mass, besides the nun’s habits were starched with egg whites.

Oh yes, egg whites were an extremely lucrative business for the Abbey.

But what worried the Abbess dreadfully, were the hundreds of egg yolks going waste. The pigs were fed these egg yolks, but they ate a lot of kitchen scraps too and did not need such rich food.

‘How do I solve the problem of this terrible waste?’ worried the Abbess...

The Abbess was a woman of action.

‘A meeting…’ she bustled into the Refectory

‘Ideas, fresh ideas not musty well worn out practices’.

‘Tired old, we-do-it-this-way...’

’Think something different, something out-of-the-box.’

‘What can be done with these hundreds of yolks?’

The Nuns were used to her staccato instructions.   

‘Sister Ursula, do not… please do not tell me we are feeding the pigs with egg yolks.’ ’It’s a waste, a colossal waste and you know it’  

The discussion went back and forth. Angry voices, laughter, countless cups of coffee...

All of a sudden when everyone least expected it, Teresa said in a quavering voice.

‘Why don’t we cook these yolks with sugar?’

The Abbess was thunderstruck, here was Teresa actually thinking of something else besides that oaf Simão.

‘Tell us more, Teresa, tell us more’ she urged.

It turned out that the one thing Teresa actually liked, was cooking.

It was then decided to make a ‘Doçe-de-ovos’, a simple dessert.

All you did was cook the yolks in sugar. The nuns were experienced in the art of preparing rich sweets and desserts.

However, they had always used honey as a sweetener, but since the XV Century sugar was plentiful in Portugal, its uses versatile.

Convents were rich and could afford large quantities of sugar.

What excitement pervaded the Abbey, the kitchen smelled delicious, what discussions, so much laughter. 

But nothing was as simple as they had anticipated, sugar although adaptable was tricky, it had its drawbacks, it charred and blackened at the slightest provocation.

A long time later, probably months, when everyone had nearly given up, when tempers had reached a fraying point, when hundreds of egg yolks and burnt sugar were discarded, success.

Three basic recipes were formulated, these were the ‘core’ of the ‘doçaria conventual .’

‘Ovos-moles, fios de ovos and capas de ovos.’

For a more refined and sophisticated taste large quantities of almonds were added to the egg yolk-sugar preparation, these were the ‘Queijinhos de amêndoa’ that could be moulded into any shape you desired.

With this as a base or the ‘core’, new recipes were devised with great success.

These new culinary ideas were a breath of fresh air that blew through all the Convents and Abbeys in Portugal.

In Goa our very own Bebimca was achieved by the addition of coconut juice to the ‘core’ which is egg yolks cooked in sugar, with a hint of Cinnamon. 

And we know how delicious Bebimca is...

Psst....I wonder why the Abbess did not think of distributing those egg yolks to those masses of very poor people living around the Convent?

Hmmmmm,.... says the Abbess, now how would you call that lucrative?