A full moon, round and plump, with a faint brown hue reminiscent of burnt sugar, sails over a dark blue china sky. It lies placid and tranquil, like a poem from Shirshendu—though certainly not the singed-toast moon he describes. This moon belongs to soft early spring nights, moist with promise, or, even better, to crisp, cold winter nights when its steam mists the blue china. A cold crescent of stainless steel descends, squeezing, and slow golden honey oozes out of the moon—the honey of notun gur.
It’s the cold that does it—the chill that sets the sap rising in the date palm stems and gives Bengal's beloved mishtis their unforgettable flavour. Yes, every season in Bengal is mishti season, but winter is the "open" season, if there ever was one. That’s when nolen gur, the new, young jaggery, runs brown, lending its smoky sweetness to chhana (curdled milk) and milk.
You rummage through the mishti shops, searching for sandesh with the right tinge—the perfect pale brown shade, with shapes inspired by fruit and a drop of gur inside. They must have the ideal texture, or else the sandesh will absorb the sweetness before it touches your tongue. Kanchagolla, the earliest form of sandesh, is a soft, melt-in-your-mouth ball that comes after the makha sandesh. Not bad for an accidental mishti discovery: the confectioners of Bengal, or moiras, found themselves with curdled milk during an unusually hot summer. They whipped it together with sugar and gur, offering it to their customers as a sweet surprise.
Unlike most Indian sweets, Bengali mishti is made from curdled milk, or chhana. The story goes that the rest of India considered allowing milk to curdle a sin. However, the moiras of Bengal apparently circumvented this taboo by deliberately cutting the milk with acid. Once this was accepted, there was no looking back.
Dwarik Ghosh, one of the legendary shops in North Kolkata, was the first to advertise nolen gurer sandesh every winter, an innovation that set a trend in Bengal. The sandesh became known to the bhadralok (gentlemen) of Bengal as sheeter sanjivani, the best way to stay happy and healthy during the cold weather.
It’s not as though putting gur into mishti began with sandesh. That honour belongs to payesh, the deep brown, creamy dessert that lingers on the spoon and on the tongue. While no one knows exactly when the first grandmother began stirring cauldrons full of milk and rice to make kheer, the dessert is mentioned in the Vedas and is likely one of the oldest in the world. It makes a dramatic appearance in the Ramayana, where the childless King Dasaratha performed a Putra Yameshti Yagya to help his queens conceive. From the sacred fire emerged a sage holding a golden pot of payasam. Beyond the epics, the significance of kheer is easy to understand. Rice is the most fundamental food, and in Sanskrit, the word for rice and food, anna, is the same. In Bengal, kheer is known as paramanna. It is rice, milk, and jaggery slow-cooked for hours over a smoky fire, served piping hot on winter evenings. The oldest known kheer recipe dates back over 2,000 years.
Winter ushers in Makar Sankranti and the Poush Mela in rural Bengal, where villagers celebrate the harvest and the full moon. During these festivities, they make Pithes, delicious sweets crafted from rice, flour, and sweet potato, often stuffed with kheer and grated coconut, and further sweetened with gur. To call them rice cakes, as many do, is to overlook the complexity and variety of their textures. Among the simplest is the Roshbhora, made from lentil paste, whipped up like an omelette, and fried into little round balls. These are then dipped in syrup and served. Another favourite is the Puli Pithe, a rich dumpling filled with grated coconut, gur, and kheer, offering a satisfying combination of sweetness and texture.
These celebrations mark the fruits of the harvest and belong to gatherings around ponds, surrounded by clusters of huts or a sprawling mansion by the same waters, representing a rapidly fading way of life. Pithes are rustic, with the maker's fingerprints often still visible in some of them, adding to their charm. However, you may unexpectedly stumble upon a Pithe festival in a quiet corner of Kolkata or encounter a relative who knows just how to get a maid to stir up the preparations, bringing the rural tradition to life in the heart of the city.
Narkol Naru, often lost in translation as "sticky coconut balls," is another of those fading ritual mishtis. Made from rolled gur (jaggery) and grated coconut, they are traditionally offered to the goddess during Saraswati Puja and later distributed to the devotees dressed in yellow sarees. Like the Pithe, Narkol Narus are difficult to find in shops, and even when they are available, they rarely taste quite the same as the ones made during the festival, capturing the true essence of the ritual.
In the midst of winter smog and the bustling streets of Kolkata, you can spot hawkers trying to sell a prized out-of-town delicacy — the 300-year-old Joynagarer Moa. These balls of muri (flaky puffed rice) and gur (jaggery) are a beloved treat, but what truly distinguishes one from another is the authenticity factor: were they really made in Joynagar, or are they just another imitation from Kolkata? The small town of Joynagar in the 24 Parganas has been making moas for centuries, and what sets them apart is the unique flavor of the gur. It's easier to find the Muri Moas, which are brown and sticky, but the creamy variety is the true test. One bite of these soft, melt-in-your-mouth moas will reveal whether they hail from Joynagar or one of the nearby villages.
Winter also gives rise to the Notun Gurer Roshogolla, a seasonal delicacy that often prompts non-Bengalis to exclaim, "What? Is there such a thing?" This creation likely emerged for the same reason as the original roshogolla — people were growing tired of dry sandesh and craved a juicy, indulgent mishti to tempt the gourmand's palate. While the roshogolla is a well-known icon of Bengali sweets, its origins lie with Naveen Chandra Das, who invented it and popularized it, earning him the title of "the Columbus of Bagbazaar." Today, the roshogolla is a beloved symbol of Bengal, enjoyed by food lovers worldwide. These soft, syrup-soaked “cheese balls” have become a global sensation, served hot with ice cream at tea centers from Sydney to Los Angeles.
The Notun Gurer Roshogolla is a more recent creation, one that first crossed my path at a Bengal Club party. At the far end of acres of crisp white tablecloth, there sat a deep tureen filled with caramel moons. "What on earth is this?" asked corporate captains and socialites draped in filmy chiffons, staring in wonder. The first theory was that it was a caramelized roshogolla. However, a quick glance at the menu revealed otherwise. For most people, it was love at first bite. The squeaky clean texture of pure paneer, perfectly paired with the dark-brown taste of notun gur in its full, ripened glory, made for an unforgettable experience. "Where can we get this?" the ladies clamoured. But the president's wife, a master of her dark brown arts, was not willing to reveal her secret.
Now, the Notun Gurer Roshogolla can be found in every narrow galli mishti shop, as well as in every sweet shop along the high roads with a renowned name. Sweets in Kolkata have a way of catching on, appearing in every nook and cranny of the city.
Baked sandesh is another winter variation on a classic theme—Makha Sandesh with gur, baked in the oven and served piping hot at the end of a biye bari (wedding) buffet. The top is browned, adding a crispy accent to the soft, creamy interior. As the steam rises into the cold night air, diners swoon in an ecstasy of anticipation. Many socialites in their chiffons like to boast that theirs is the best, but refuse to reveal the name of the treasure who made it, usually a caterer rather than a sweet shop. Even five-star hotels have been known to take a stab at this beloved winter delicacy, often with more success than they typically have with Bengali mishti.
Five-star hotels have also been known to come up with inventive concoctions like the Sandesh Roulade. The Oberoi Grand, for example, crafted one that combines vanilla sponge, pastry cream, and nolen gur with sandesh, all coated with a rich kesar rabri. However, this only goes to show that while Bengalis might mutter "ocholchey cholbey" (let it be) when it comes to their politics, they will never tolerate monotony when it comes to their mishtis.
There was a whisper that the Jadavpur University R&D team had managed to distil gur, making the essential flavour available all year round, much like bottled vanilla, without the need to wait for the sap to rise or the temperatures to drop. Many Bengalis rejoiced at the thought of having gur on tap, but, somehow, the experiment hasn't quite been successful. Distilled gur lacks that unique essence—it's like the Soya Chhana Sandesh that can be found around: an ersatz version of the real thing.
Kolkata has sweet shops on every corner. Below are just a few of the infinite variety that the city offers.
Address: Bhowanipore, # 2 Padmapukur Road (24759490)
At the bhadro Bangali confectioner in the heart of Jadu Babu's Bazaar, you can get roses and strawberry hearts moulded out of pink sandesh for Valentine's Day. In winter they turn out the best Notun Gurer Roshogollas in town. They are also one of the few shops that offer Makha Sandesh in its almost original incarnation.
Address: 56 Ramdulal Sarkar Street, North Kolkata
This shop is known for its expertise in Jalbhara Sandeshes. Apart from Mousumi, Parijat and Babu Sandesh, the establishment offers soft sandesh in fruit flavours - orange, pineapple and strawberry.
Address: 41 Bipin Behari Ganguly Street
Ganguram and Sons set up shop in 1885 and soon earned a reputation for the excellence of its doi. The shop in its various incarnations offers confections like the Indrani that can't be found anywhere else.
Address: 48B Syed Amir Ali Avenue
They now have branches, but the one on the corner of Beckbagan and Lower Circular Road stands apart for its Notun Gurer Sandesh. Mithai is famous for inventing the sandesh birthday cake, which gives die-hard ethnicity fans a unique option. It is also known for its Notun Gurer Sandesh in winter, especially the Kanchagollas.