
As Sankranti draws near, a new wave of gripping cold descends on our sleepy hamlet of Karimganj.
Days feel shorter, the sun lazier and the air sharper. Additional blankets make their way out of the ancient teak cupboard in Grandmas room. The tulshi-modhu decoction, believed to be an antidote to common cold, is back in vogue. One shot in the morning, and yet another one in the evening. Dadas endeavours to elude the herbal infusion go in vain, I am not complaining though, in fact I quite relish it.
Grandma is at work, draped in a shawl, seated on her usual pnire, in front of the oonoon.
The kitchen windows are misted. Conspicuous by their absence are the fitful rays of the young sun, forever looking for opportunities to flirt with the constellation of shining knasa utensils, neatly arranged on the battered wooden shelves.
The oonoon I discover is already lit, a faint hint of smoke still hangs over the kitchen.
A pot of milk stews languorously over the crackling embers, waiting for that occasional stir by Grandma.
Didi is seated beside Grandma, diligently sieving what looks like rice flour.
The rice flour texture, Grandma advises Didi, needs to be just right, neither too coarse nor too fine, soft enough to melt into the milk without forming any unwelcome lumps, but firm enough to hold its shape later.
Didi nods in affirmation. She takes a generous pinch of rice flour from the thala, spreads it on her palm and holds it up for Grandma to have a quick inspection.

The rice flour, on Grandmas instruction, now disappears into the simmering milk. Didi keeps stirring continuously. A disciplined accustomed rhythm, that can only be an outcome of years of dedication and practice.
The enthusiastic bubbling of the milk starts to gradually subside, as she seductively draws the flour into her allure, she transforms to a soft pliable fudge. Spoonfuls of nolen gur, dark, smoky, fragrant, get drizzled over, the pristine ivory now taking a gorgeous golden hue.
I had been waiting for this moment.
In hushed tiptoes, go and stand beside Grandma.
I don’t need to ask.
Grandma doles out a luxuriant helping of nolen gur onto my palm.
How did you know ? My curiosity asks Grandma.
She doesn’t answer.
Just smiles.
I lick the last vestige of gur with relish from my palm.
As the mixture continues to cook, Grandmas attention sharpens. A moment too soon, she mentions to Didi, the pithe shall not set; a moment too late, it shall lose its soft yielding fudginess. I can well see her hawk eyes now following the motion of the spoon, waiting for that exact pause. When the fudge abandons the sides of the vessel, gathers itself, and turns quietly willing.
That’s the moment of truth.
The milk-rice flour-nolen gur mix is taken off the fire by Didi and poured carefully onto a greased pathorer thala, still pliant, still warm, still breathing.

I stand in my kitchen, patiently waiting for that exact moment when I need to get the Palo Pitha off the stove, reminiscing the days gone by – mist-cloaked Karimganj mornings, unhurried hours in the kitchen with Grandma (Palo Pitha is a test of patience, Grandmas voice rings in my ears), the excitement of approaching Sankranti, the fragrance of new rice, the temptation of nolen gur , that craving for pithe-puli…
Most desserts announce celebration.
Palo pitha to me carries thanks – thanking the fields, the grain, and the hands that toiled tirelessly to bring the harvest home.

Palo pitha | Palo Pithe | Chandankath Pitha
Ingredients
Method
- Wash rice until the water runs clear. Soak it for 3-4 hours . Drain, dry it completely .
- Coarsely grind the rice, keep aside .
- Dissolve patali gur in 100 ml of milk, keep aside . Skip this step if you are using Nolen gur.
- Pour the remaining milk in a heavy-bottomed pan, add 2 tbsp ghee. Bring to a boil, allow the milk to simmer over medium heat for 10-15 minutes.
- Add the coarsely ground rice flour to the milk, give it a hearty stir, ensure there are no lumps.
- Continue to cook over a medium flame for another 15-20 minutes.
- Add the freshly grated coconut, continue to cook till the rice flour is cooked perfectly and almost all the milk has been absorbed. Stir almost continuously to ensure the fudge doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan.
- Lower the flame.
- Drizzle the nolen gur / patali-milk mixture and the remaining ghee, continue to cook over a low flame stirring frequently. Slowly the fudge shall start to come off from the pan.
- Grease a tray generously with ghee and gently pour the hot fudge onto the tray.
- Level the fudge with the back a spoon, allow to cool to room temperature. Refrigerate for 4-5 hours. Cut into the desired shapes and serve cold.





..only you can describe the seduction of flour as sensual! 😃
Amazing as always
Ha ha Thank you Shyamala ji