Holi time is rarely ever a sad period. Among any other festival, Holi is always fun. Delhi tends to be on the precipice of maximum heat, air conditioners are getting cleaned, mosquitos are making a sharp resurgence, and all the pollen in the air has my mom is sneeze fits all morning. It’s one of the time in the year that mom is a far more effective alarm clock than my iPhone. The festival of spring and colours is something that almost every old culture celebrates. The one celebrated in India, while has its roots steeped in Hindu mythology, is accessible to almost every Indian around the globe. The story of Holi is actually quite sweet and one that I only remember from my role as the “narrator” in our school play, back in the third grade.

As an elementary school student, I had a flair for the performing arts. I loved to be part of plays and sing (though as I find out as late as 2019 through Natasha — I might actually be tone-deaf). My thought here is that as a child I wasn’t self-conscious. I didn’t doubt myself, question if people were laughing at me or with me. This self-doubt has plagued me all my life the moment I reached grade 6. Thankfully, it’s a lot better now. Anyway, I digress. In the third grade, my class was rostered for a class play around the origins of Holi. I was cast as the cute narrator who weaved the storyline through while dialogues were sprinkled throughout by the many leads of the play. I loved the role of the narrator since it meant constant stage presence and actually watching the final performance. Mom was in awe of my role and touted it to be the titular role of the show — though even at the tender age of eight, I knew she was gassing me.

The play opens with an evil king Hiranyakashipu (pretty sure we abbreviated his name. I can’t pronounce this even now). He had special powers that made him nearly invincible and he wanted everyone in his kingdom to worship him. He was so powerful he started to act like a god and punished or killed anyone who disobeyed him. Hiranyakashipu had a son called Prahlad. Prahlad disobeyed his father and worshipped Vishnu instead of him, so his father planned to kill him. The king asked his sister Holika to help kill Prahlad. Holika had a special cloak that would protect her from fire. So she planned to trick Prahlad by taking him into a fire but because she was using her powers for evil, the plan failed and the cloak flew from Holika and covered Prahlad. Prahlad was safe and Vishnu then defeated the evil king. Holi has been thereafter celebrated as a story of the victory of good over evil with Holi eve usually commencing with a bonfire akin to the one that Prahlad and Holika sat in.

Holi and Gujiyas have no reason to be together. There isn’t a real reason why we eat this very heavy fried food on one of the hottest days of the new year where we are also expected to drink copious amounts of milk-based Thandai and perform cardiovascular activities in the form of chasing our loved ones and dousing them with colour. Its like when Michael Scott “Carbo-loads” with fettuccine Alfredo before a 5k run (“for the cure!”). That being said, Gujiyas just taste so much better when you are sitting in the sun as you air dry all the water-soaked garments you’re in and the only thing you can smell is that artificial rose perfume that every dry colour seems to be fragranced with. Gujiyas are super easy to make and follow a very similar process as a pastry dough which I found fascinating! I hope you do try this recipe and have a happy & safe Holi ♥️

Ingredients

For the dough

1.5 cups of all-purpose flour/maida

1/3 cup ghee

For the filling

1.5 cups Khoya

1 cup of fresh coconut or desiccated coconut

5 tablespoons of granulated sugar

1 tablespoon of semolina/sooji

1/4 cup of your favourite dried fruits (I used raisins and almonds)

1 teaspoon of cardamom powder

1 teaspoon of freshly grated nutmeg

3-4 strands of saffron immersed in a pinch of water

Method

1. Start by roasting sooji on a low to medium flame in a skillet. Roast until brown and fragrant. About 2-3 minutes. Remove and let cool.

2. In the same pan on medium heat, add khoya and caramelise and let the excess fat render out. I suggest using a non-stick pan for this since the khoya has a tendency to stick to the bottom of vessels.

3. For the dough, in a bowl add the flour and all the ghee. Mix well. Our aim is to make this into a supple cohesive ball. Add 2-3 tablespoons of ice-cold water to meld the dough together. I also split the saffron between the dough and the filling just to add some colour to the Gujiya but this is optional. Let the dough rest for about 30 mins. Preferably in the fridge, if you are living in a hot or humid place.

4. For the filling, mix all the ingredients together and you are sorted!

5. Roll out the dough into a thin sheet. Place your hand underneath the dough and if you can see the silhouette of your hand then your dough is thin enough. This is known as the windowpane method.

6. Using a biscuit cutter or a steel bowl make uniform round cuts in the dough. Roll out the rounds a little and then place the filling in the centre. Run a wet finger around the circumference of the dough. Immediately, pull one side of the dough and join the dough making a semi-circle shaped pocket.

7. In a deep vessel add about 300 ml of vegetable oil or ghee and let it come to frying temperature. About 160 celsius or until a little piece of dough immersed floats to the top in under 5-10 seconds. Add your Gujiya one at a time and fry until golden brown.

8. Let it cool and enjoy!