What’s the story behind mithai, those colourful sweets that’s a hallmark of Indian celebrations
Burfi, laddoo and more – mithai are a vital part of Indian life.
They are a totem of special occasions throughout Indian life. Colourful morsels, often adorned with edible gold or silver foil called vark. Yet, all too often, the mere mention of mithai, or Indian sweets, elicits the complaint – “It’s too sweet!”
Given mithai’s significance in Indian life and today’s woke culture, it’s almost shocking that this reaction hasn’t yet spawned any backlash.
“It’s not wrong though,” said private dining chef Vasunthara Ramasamy when I asked if the common complaint may seem offensive. “Maybe I’m not offended easily, but mithai is very sweet.”
“Sweetmeats are meant for celebrations,” she went on to explain. “You give them to someone to celebrate good news, so you don’t go halfway (with the sweetness). And we just eat one. You don’t sit there and eat the whole box.”
LIFE’S SWEET MOMENTS
Mithai are essential to ceremonial occasions in Indian life. They are distributed to commemorate the birth of a baby, at weddings, and at life’s many important moments in between.
“Mithai holds a special place in our Jhunjhnuwala tradition,” said Ritu Jhunjhnuwala, managing director of Indian restaurant Rang Mahal. “In our home, before any celebration of prayer, we offer mithai to the gods, along with water, as a gesture of reverence. This blessed mithai is then shared joyously among our family and friends.”
Naturally, Deepavali wouldn’t be complete without mithai as snaking queues begin to trail out the door of popular Indian sweet shops much like they do at bak kwa stores before Chinese New Year. Many families observe the Hindu festival of lights by exchanging elaborate gift boxes of mithai, dried fruit and nuts.
SWEET BEGINNINGS
Sweet-making in India can be traced back to the ancient Vedic texts (sometime around 1,000 BCE), which make references to the presence of milk-based sweets during rituals and festive occasions.
Almost all mithai begins with the hours-long process of boiling down and constantly stirring whole milk till it reduces it to a sweet sludge. To this base is added ingredients like khoya (fragrant fudge-like milk solids), nuts, chickpea flour or rice; and flavourings like rosewater, cardamom or saffron, depending on the type of mithai being made.
Some retailers swap the reduction of whole milk for more convenient options like milk powder or condensed milk, even if mithai lovers say that these handy substitutes affect the taste of the resulting dessert. “The creaminess of the milk just doesn’t come through as much,” said Ramasamy.
Superlative mithai is the result of superlative ingredients. Freshly shelled and ground pistachios make for burfi with more earthy depth. Freshly grated coconut flesh imbues laddoo with a deep richness that desiccated coconut cannot even begin to replicate. Once moulded, some mithai are fried in ghee, others soaked in sugar syrup, and yet others requiring both. Think of the time and effort required of every step. Is it any wonder that few people make mithai at home?
PLAYING WITH SUGAR
Having grown up in a Christian household, mithai were not part of Sheila J’s family traditions. The 35-year-old baker and owner of Pastry Love said she only began delving into the art of Indian sweet-making in 2020.
“Most of my customers are Indian and we look forward to celebrating Deepavali together,” she explained. “I realised that as Singaporeans, the cookies we share during our various festivals are quite similar, like pineapple tarts. So I wanted to steer it back to India and celebrate the flavours of India.”
When she began talking about mithai, the first thing she discovered was that, “people are really upset about the sugar content!” she laughed. “And I thought, can I really do something about this and (have it) still hit the spot?
“Usually, sugar plays an important role in pastries and sweets. When you make changes to the amount of sugar, you change the (texture of) the product. So I was trying to find a way to make (mithai) less sweet. And it’s possible,” she enthused.
Last year, she created a collection of fusion mithai that included baklava motichur laddoo (laddoo sandwiched between layers of filo pastry) and chocolate peda, which she describes as something like a fudge with strawberry cream filling.
This year, her collection includes kaju katli, made with nothing but ground cashews and sugar (“it’s so different from store-bought ones because you can really taste the cashews”); mango kalakand, a dry cake made from ricotta, fresh mangoes and cardamom; and halva truffles fashioned after rose tandai, a festive Indian drink flavoured with rose, pistachios and black pepper.
These modern-day renditions would no doubt appeal to a new audience who may have resisted mithai no thanks to their rich sugar content.
That said, mithai is a deeply rooted in tradition for many who appreciate the classics. “I grew up loving traditional mithai. Gulab jamun is my sweetheart,” joked Punjabi private dining chef Rishi Aurora. Though not averse to trying modern takes on mithai, he said, “If there’s something I would return to over and over again, it would be the older traditional styles.”
For that, there are old-time purveyors like Moghul Sweet Shop, Bikanervala, and Komala Vilas, as well as upscale restaurants such as Yantra, The Tiffin Room and Rang Mahal, all of which purvey mithai made from time-honoured recipes. “Rang Mahal mithai are made with our own recipes passed down from generation to generation, keeping true to tradition,” said Jhunjhunwala. These include coconut laddoo and pistachio burfi packaged in glittering boxes that embody the spirit of Deepavali – a celebration of the victory of light over darkness.