12 October,2025 09:46 AM IST | Mumbai | Nasrin Modak Siddiqi
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Not every sweet becomes a household name like gulab jamun or kaju katli, yet some have quietly earned a devoted following. These are the mithais that stir nostalgia, mark celebrations, and linger in memory long after the last bite - crafted with patience, heritage, and a touch of indulgence.
More than a mithai, Mohanthal is a piece of living heritage. Made during Diwali, Janmashtami, and weddings, it is believed to be Lord Krishna's favourite and holds devotional significance in Gujarat and Rajasthan, often offered as prasad. "Every family has their own version, passed down through generations," says Chef Raghavendra Singh, Head Chef, Radisson Hotel Group, helming Meetha in Mumbai. "While it may look simple, crafting Mohanthal is an art. The besan must be slow-roasted in ghee till perfectly nutty, the sugar syrup timed just right for that soft, grainy texture," he says, sharing about the dhoru technique - adding ghee and milk in intervals - gives it that melt-in-the-mouth crumb." A perfect Mohanthal, he adds, "is golden-brown, fragrant, and delicately sweet with cardamom and saffron."
Raghavendra Singh
At Meetha, tradition leads the way. "We don't take shortcuts," Singh says. "Our refinement lies in the presentation - slivered nuts, clean cuts, and packaging that feels as special as the sweet itself." For him, Mohanthal is also personal. "The aroma of besan roasting in ghee meant Diwali was near. My grandmother would stir patiently, saying a good Mohanthal can't be rushed. Everyone joined in somehow - shelling nuts, stirring, or waiting for that first bite. That warmth and togetherness are what I try to recreate each time we make it at Meetha."
While kaju katli and gulab jamun have gone global, Singh feels, Mohanthal is still waiting for its moment. "Younger audiences are curious about authentic, rooted flavours but also value lighter textures and modern formats," he tells us. "With bite-sized portions, elegant packaging, and storytelling that celebrates its heritage, Mohanthal can speak to both Indian millennials and global food lovers. Its grainy richness is unlike any other mithai - and with the right positioning, it could well become India's answer to tiramisu or baklava," he signs off.
What began as a wrestler's energy food soon became a cultural staple, enjoyed in homes and at festivals, especially during the winter months in North India. Because of its rich, fudgy texture, filled with nuts and ghee, it is often made during celebrations like Diwali. Girish Nayak, Chief Mithaiwala at Bombay Sweet Shop, shares the fascinating link between Dodha barfi and the world of wrestling.
Chief Mithaiwala, Bombay Sweet Shop, Girish Nayak making Dodha Barfi at the Byculla outlet. PICS/KIRTI SURVE PARADE
"In the early 1900s, Punjabi wrestler Harbans Vig craved more than his daily diet of milk, cream, and ghee. To break the monotony, he experimented in his kitchen, blending milk, cream, sugar, sprouted wheat flour (also known as doda), and nuts. The result was Dodha halwa, a dense, nourishing, and warming food, perfect for Punjab's winters.
His first memory of Dodha barfi goes back to a box from Om Sweets in Delhi - famous for its fudge-like version with big, chunky granules that crumbled apart but tasted rich, nutty, and deeply caramelised. Later, he tried Chaina Ram's - more compact, smoother, and lighter, yet just as flavourful. These versions shaped his own take: a barfi that's balanced - lighter in texture, but still full of that indulgent, caramelised depth.
Girish Nayak
Nayak explains that Dodha barfi's magic lies in its slow-cooked process. "The secret is using sprouted wheat flour boiled in milk - but the trick is to split the milk just right, often with whey water, so it doesn't turn too thick," he says. "This slow cooking caramelises the granules, giving it that rich, fudgy texture that makes Dodha special." Traditionally, the granules are as big as sabudana, giving dodha barfi its signature chewy bite. "At Bombay Sweet Shop, we've made them finer for a smoother, buttery feel - easier to eat but still true to its roots," says Nayak.
They use smaller granules, add extra nuts, and retain that deep, caramelised flavour. And the final flourish? "A hint of citrus! The natural orange zest cuts through the richness, making the barfi bright, indulgent, and just right for today's tastes." The result - the Nutty Dodha Barfi - is slowcooked with caramelised milk, cashews, almonds, and a touch of rose and orange zest. It stays true to its roots yet feels lighter, more luxurious, and ideally suited to the modern palate.
Ice Halwa is celebrated for its delicate, paper-thin sheets and melt-in-the-mouth texture. The act of peeling off each butterpaper layer adds to its charm. For decades, it has been a hallmark of Mumbai's sweet culture, much as Parsi Dairy Farm itself is. Irani explains, "The process starts by cooking refined starch, ghee, and sugar into a pliable mass, then spreading it thinly between sheets of butter paper. Once set, it is cut into 4x4 squares and then is showered delicately with dry fruits. This precision and patience mirror the same dedication that defines our craft.
Speaking of its history, Irani tells us, "Mahim gave Ice Halwa its identity. Families travelling across Mumbai would stop at sweet shops there to carry it home, and soon "Mahim" became inseparable from the sweet itself. Just as Parsi Dairy Farm is tied to Marine Lines, Ice Halwa is forever tied to Mahim.
Irani adds, "With improved packaging and logistics, Ice Halwa has moved from a local indulgence to an international sweet. It now features in Diwali hampers, weddings, and as gifts for the global diaspora. By nature, the product has a long shelf life, which helps it gain even more international exposure. Its essence lies in simplicity, so its core should remain unchanged.
However, subtle infusions - such as saffron or pistachio - offer variety without compromising authenticity. The real innovation is in packaging and preservation, ensuring that Ice Halwa reaches faraway markets while retaining its delicate form. Having said that, we do have more modern variants, such as blueberry halwa and cranberry halwa, to cater to today's modern palates.
While Parsi Dairy Farm, established in 1916, has been known for its rich milk, ghee and suterfeni, the chikat halwa introduced in the mid-20th century, crafted with pure ghee and premium dried fruits, quickly became a festive highlight and a favourite among customers, especially during Diwali, Navroz, and weddings.
"Unlike grain-based halwas, Chikat halwa is different in both texture and taste. Its glossy, chewy texture is the result of slow, continuous stirring of refined starch and wholesome ghee over many hours. The flavour is rich yet light, sprinkled with almonds and pistachios for the perfect crunch. Its unique technique is learnt by years of practice passed down from generations of halwais," says Sarfaraz K Irani, Director, Sales and Operations, Parsi Dairy Farm, adding, "The recipe has never changed - refined starch, ghee, almonds, and pista remain at its heart," says Irani, adding, "What has evolved is packaging, hygiene, and consistency in production. Modern techniques allow us to meet higher demand while ensuring the same taste that Parsi Dairy Farm has stood for over a century."
Sarfaraz Irani
Even if it may have lost patrons, Irani believes, over the decades, it has come to represent nostalgia - reminding Mumbaikars of family celebrations and visits to their Marine Lines shop. "Today, it is treasured both as a sweet and as a piece of the city's culinary history. Older patrons cherish it for tradition, while younger ones view it as a heritage sweet that connects them to Mumbai's past. Many younger customers also share their experiences online, helping it find a new audience," he adds.
Ledikeni, with its iconic colonial Bengal origins, is more than just a sweet - it's a slice of history steeped in nostalgia, and for Anjan Chatterjee of Sweet Bengal, preserving that legacy is about honouring its simplicity and grace. This syrup-soaked dessert was created by Kolkata sweetmaker Bhim Chandra Nag in the 1850s to honour Lady Charlotte Canning, wife of the British Governor-General. The delicate chhena sweet, originally called Lady Canning, became Ledikeni in Bengali - and outlived its namesake, remaining a festive favourite long after she left India.
"Ledikeni is a slice of Bengal's colonial past sweetened with nostalgia," he says. "Preserving its legacy means retaining its simplicity and grace while respecting its origin story. I like to keep that sense of surprise alive, honouring the texture and restraint that makes it distinctly Bengali, rather than just another syrup soaked sweet."
Anjan Chatterjee, Chairman and Managing Director of Speciality Restaurants Limited with Ledikeni and Lyangcha in Sweet Bengal. PICS/SATEJ SHINDE
On the perfect Ledikeni, Chatterjee emphasises balance. "It should be airy and spongy, yet have a slight bite at the core. The syrup shouldn't drown the sweet - it should kiss it lightly, imparting moisture and fragrance. That delicate restraint in sweetness is what makes a Ledikeni refined, not cloying." Often compared to gulab jamun, Ledikeni occupies its own elegant space. "Ledikeni embodies elegance. It's lighter, more porous, and subtly flavoured - almost like the Bengali temperament, understated yet expressive."
Anjan Chatterjee
Keeping it relevant today requires subtle updates. "Sometimes I pair it with a touch of citrus zest or plate it with textures like cream anglaise or a saffron drizzle. Presentation, portion, and pairing can modernise the experience without tampering with the heart of the recipe," he says. And for younger audiences? "I'd retain its airy texture and tender sweetness, reinventing the format - a Ledikeni crumble with mishti doi ice cream, or a baked Ledikeni soufflé. The soul remains the same; the expression becomes more contemporary and experiential," he adds.
Lyangcha, with its rustic charm, tells the story of Bengal's smaller towns. Born in Shaktigarh, the syrupy, elongated sweet made of khoya or chhena is said to have originated when a local cook served a twist on gulab jamun to a royal guest. The treat became so loved that Shaktigarh earned fame as the home of the langcha. Chatterjee adds, "It's the sweet you find at bus stops, fairs, and local sweet shops, always warm and freshly fried. It reminds me that great food doesn't need polish - it needs heart."
Achieving that signature chewy texture and caramelised tone requires patience. "The dough must be kneaded just right - not too tight or soft - and fried slowly over a steady flame until it turns that deep golden brown. The syrup must be soaked in gently, giving it that chewy, syrupy texture. It's a craft that rewards intuition as much as precision," he adds.
Lyangcha's appeal lies in its familiarity yet distinct identity. "It's a symbol of how regional India has gone national without losing flavour," he says. Even amid fusion desserts, Chatterjee keeps authenticity at the forefront. "Instead of masking it with fusion flavours, I focus on quality - the purity of chhena, the right frying temperature, the perfect syrup consistency. Sometimes, authenticity itself becomes the new luxury."
What makes Lyangcha timeless? "All three - its simplicity makes it relatable, nostalgia gives it warmth, and craftsmanship lends it respect. It doesn't try to be anything else - it's content being exactly what it has always
been: a humble sweet that delivers pure joy," he adds.
For Suman Rungta, founder of SR Foods, the humble boondi laddu is more than a sweet - it's a symbol of heritage and harmony. The name boondi comes from boond, meaning âdrop'; she tells us while describing the tiny pearls of chickpea flour batter that come together to form the laddu. "In Rajasthan, only the larger moti boondi version was once made, while the finer barik boondi style later emerged in Calcutta.
Suman Rungta
Over time, the laddu travelled across regions, finding its way into temple offerings and festive tables alike, with the Tirupati laddu becoming one of its most celebrated avatars. Among Marwari families in Rajasthan and northern India, moti boondi laddus are an essential part of jeemanvaar - traditional feasts that mark weddings, births, and religious celebrations. "One of my fondest childhood memories," Rungta recalls, "is waiting eagerly for moti boondi laddus to be served as Hanumanji's prasad. That first bite was more than a treat - it felt like a blessing."
For her, the boondi laddu carries a quiet poetry. "There's something timeless about a laddu - it's the first sweet I associate with celebration," she says. "The way it's made - tiny golden boondis coming together to form one perfect sphere - feels symbolic of how people and moments unite during our festivals." Its simplicity, she adds, is its true strength. "It's comforting and familiar, a sweet that every generation enjoys. Unlike many delicate Indian mithais, a boondi laddu isn't just about indulgence - it's about warmth, community, and continuity," she signs off.
