The unbelievable sweetness of being

With food such an integral part of Malaysia’s country dynamic, it is no surprise that when festival time comes around, the gourmand in everyone goes into hyper drive. I blogged much earlier about Deepavali, and was so touched when the doorbell rang the other night and my neighbor Ganesh handed over a box of delightful Indian sweeties.


I love the colours and shapes of Indian sweetmeats. From the vivid orange of jelebi, to the pink and green of coconut candy, Indian candies are both a visual and sensory treat.
This box of goodies came from Ipoh, and was made by some of the most famed sweetmakers in the state. They certainly did not disappoint. The jelebi was crispy on the outside, but when bitten into oozed its syrupy sweetness and signature sourishness which is a result of the process of soaking wheat flour in sugar water and then draining the mixture before shaping it into its distinctive curlicue pattern and frying.

Indian coconut candy differs grately (pun intended) from the Nyonya kind. Whilst the Nyonyas prefer coarsely shaven coconut flesh, and usually use very pastel pinks and greens and yellows which is turned prettily creamy by the use of condensed milk, the Indian version uses desiccated coconut, with fine sugar which crystallizes as it cooks and sets. It is also more vivid in colour, being almost predominantly screaming pink and green.

The rectangular beige sweet is an Indian classic. Called Milkgoa, it is made of fresh milk and sugar. Done well, it is a creamy, mouth coating experience, with a rich, deep sweetness and a slowly melting texture.

The longer, browner rectangle is Mysorepak which is made from wheat flour, sugar and ghee. It is more crumby in texture to Milkgoa, and less rich, although just as sweet. Laddoo, for me, will always be immortalized by a Lat cartoon I read when I was a kid. Lat is Malaysia’s most celebrated cartoonist and he has managed to condense and capture the essence of my nation’s quirkiness and foibles in such a humourous and uninflamatory way.

In this particular cartoon, he depicts the house visiting of friends to a Hindu household. The gracious host (and I swear, we Malaysians are all wonderfully gracious when it comes to food sharing) offers his guest laddoos and tells them that they are homemade. His friend eats one, then turns around to tell his son not to talk with his mouth full when eating laddoo, promptly spraying the kid with flakes from this little round ball as he cautions him.


I may have misremembered the cartoon, but I think our dear Lat may have mixed up his Indian sweets. The little balls which crumble into a fine powder as soon as they are bitten into are in fact Ghee Balls which are made from green bean flour, ghee, sugar and cashews. They are made small, so diners can pop the whole thing in their mouths and let it dissolve into a sweet paste in the mouth.

Laddoo, on the other hand, is a deep-fried ball, bright yellow in colour and often speckled with red dots from food colouring. Also made from wheat flour, it is crunchy on the outside and slightly more chewy and moist inside.

Athirasam is the only south Indian sweetmeat to make this gift pack. Made out of rice flour and Indian rock sugar, it is doughnut shape, but flat, as opposed to puffy. Deep brown, it is another fried sweet.

The uniting factor of these sweets is the copious amounts of sugar they contain. They go well with a hot cup of black coffee or tea, but it is a singularly sweet-toothed person who would be able to get through the gift box I was given in any less than a week.