Festive Indian sweets are the reason I gained eight pounds last Diwali and I literally have zero regrets. Like, I’m sitting here in my tiny New Jersey apartment right now, 2 a.m. vibes, fairy lights still up from two weeks ago because I’m too lazy to take them down, and there’s an open box of motichoor laddoos staring at me like “bro, finish us.” Anyway.
Why Festive Indian Sweets Own My Entire Soul
I didn’t grow up with this stuff, okay? I’m second-gen, born and raised in the suburbs where the only “sweet” was Halloween candy and my mom’s sad attempts at boxed brownie mix. Then I went to my first proper Diwali party in college and someone handed me a warm gulab jamun and my brain short-circuited. It was hot, syrupy, spongy perfection and I immediately shoved three more in my mouth while making direct eye contact with a aunty who definitely judged me. Zero chill.
The Ones I Will Literally Fight You For
- Jalebi – crispy, neon orange, pretending to be healthy because “it’s just fried batter.” I once ate an entire kilo in one sitting during a road trip and had to pull over because the sugar crash hit like a truck.
- Gulab Jamun – my emotional support doughnut holes. Pro tip: microwave the store-bought ones for exactly 11 seconds. Don’t ask how I know that number.
- Kaju Katli – fancy silver-covered crack. I hide these from myself in the freezer and then forget and find them six months later like buried treasure. https://www.vegrecipesofindia.com/recipes/indian-sweets-recipes/
- Rasmalai – cold, creamy, makes me forgive humanity for existing.
My Most Embarrassing Festive Indian Sweets Fail Ever
Two years ago I decided I was going to “make homemade besan laddoos” for my white coworkers because I wanted to seem cultured or whatever. Y’all. I burned the besan so bad my smoke alarm thought I was cooking meth. The entire apartment smelled like scorched regret for four days. My roommate walked in, took one look at the black sludge in the pan, and just said “…Diwali vibes?” I cried-laughed into a pint of Häagen-Dazs. Never again.
Where I Get My Fix in the US (Because I’m Lazy)
Look, I wish I was that person who makes everything from scratch while wearing a cute apron and filming reels. I’m not. Here’s where I cop out: https://www.sukhadia.com/
- Patel Brothers (obviously) – their fresh mithai counter is dangerous after 8 p.m.
- Sukhadia’s online – ships decent kaju katli straight to my door so I don’t have to people.
- Random Instagram aunties doing pickup – yes I’ve driven 45 minutes for one box of motichoor, fight me.
The Contradictory Truth About Festive Indian Sweets
Here’s the thing nobody says out loud: I feel guilty every single time I eat them. Like, I’m over here counting calories for lunch and then demolishing 2000 calories of pure ghee and sugar because “it’s tradition.” My dentist hates me. My jeans hate me. But the second someone puts a thali in front of me, all logic goes out the window and I’m five years old again at my nani’s house sneaking extra pedas when nobody’s looking. https://www.patelbros.com/
Anyway, moral of the story: festive Indian sweets will ruin your diet and heal your soul at the same time. Embrace the chaos.
Go order some right now. Or don’t. I’m not your mom. (But if you’re in central Jersey, DM me and I’ll share my secret laddoo plug. No judgment, just sugar.)
