That same year, I also confidently announced at the dinner table that I hated beetroot. Hated it. With passion. Drama. Hand gestures. The whole performance. My mom didn’t argue. She just nodded, the way adults do when they know something you don’t.
Fast forward a lot of years later—I’m standing in my Queens apartment kitchen, staring at a beetroot bleeding all over my cutting board like it’s auditioning for a crime show, and I’m thinking… wow, look at me now.
Because here’s the twist: beetroot ladoo is one of my favorite homemade sweets. I know. I didn’t see it coming either.
How Beetroot Ladoo Snuck Into My Life
Beetroot has always been that vegetable. You know the one. Nutritious. Good for you. Slightly suspicious. The kind of thing people eat while telling you it’s “an acquired taste.”
Beetroot ladoo, though? That’s beetroot in disguise. Beetroot wearing a party outfit. Beetroot saying, Relax, I brought coconut and nuts.
I laughed. Loud. Disbelieving. Slightly offended.
And then I reached for another one.
That’s how beetroot ladoo works. It doesn’t convince you with logic. It wins by ambush.
Beetroot Ladoo in a Queens Kitchen (Yes, Really)
I live in Queens, NYC, which means my grocery runs are a cultural scavenger hunt. I can buy beets next to bok choy next to frozen samosas, and honestly? That feels right.
Why Beetroot Ladoo Is Low-Key Brilliant
Let me make a bold statement:
Beetroot ladoo is the overachiever of Indian sweets.
It’s:
- Sweet but not obnoxious
- Healthy-ish without being annoying about it
- Colorful in a way that feels intentional, not artificial
- Surprisingly filling
And yes, people will raise an eyebrow when you tell them what it is. That’s half the fun.
You ever feed someone something and wait for their reaction like it’s a prank show? Beetroot ladoo is perfect for that.
A Very Real Beetroot Ladoo Disaster (Because Obviously)
The first time I tried making beetroot ladoo on my own, I skipped a step. I won’t say which one because it still hurts.
Let’s just say the mixture was… wet. Too wet. Like, emotionally unstable wet.
I stared at the pan and said out loud, “You seriously thought that would work?”
The beetroot did not respond.
I cooked it longer. Then longer. Then too long. Somewhere in there, I figured it out. The excess moisture evaporated. The mixture thickened. The color deepened. Redemption arc.
They weren’t perfect. One looked like a cube. Another cracked. Still tasted great.
That’s beetroot ladoo for you. A little dramatic, but forgiving.
What Even Is Beetroot Ladoo? (The Human Explanation)
At its core, beetroot ladoo is grated beetroot cooked down and mixed with things that love it:
- Coconut (fresh or desiccated)
- Nuts (cashews are my go-to)
- Sweetener (jaggery is elite here)
- Cardamom (because obviously)
No syrup baths. No sugar shock. Just slow cooking, mixing, rolling, and accepting that your hands will be stained for at least 24 hours.
Worth it.
Ingredients (Measured With the Heart)
- 2 cups grated beetroot
- 1 cup desiccated coconut
- ¾ cup grated jaggery
- ¼ cup chopped cashews
- ½ tsp cardamom powder
- 1–2 tbsp ghee (optional but comforting)
The Process (Real-Life Version)
- Sauté beetroot in ghee. Watch it soften and darken. Smell gets earthy-sweet.
- Cook until moisture reduces. This takes patience. Scroll your phone if needed.
- Add coconut and jaggery. Stir. Stir again. Think about your life choices.
- Toss in nuts and cardamom. Suddenly it smells like something special.
- Cook till it comes together and leaves the pan like it has places to be.
- Cool slightly. Roll into ladoos. Uneven shapes welcome.
Why Beetroot Ladoo Is a Sneaky Crowd-Pleaser
Here’s what I’ve learned from making beetroot ladoo for people who claim they don’t like beetroot:
Don’t tell them what it is right away.
Then drop the truth bomb.
Watch the confusion. The denial. The reluctant respect.
It’s beautiful.
Also—kids eat this. Kids. That alone deserves an award.
Random Beetroot Ladoo Thoughts I Refuse to Organize
- Beetroot stains are forever (emotionally)
- The color alone makes it feel festive
- Tastes even better the next day
- Goes shockingly well with chai
- One ladoo is never the plan
Outbound Links That Match the Vibe
- A warm, honest food blog that understands nostalgia: Smitten Kitchen
- For background music while rolling ladoos: an old-school Lata Mangeshkar playlist
Not a Conclusion, Just a Thought
These ladoo feels like growth. Like changing your mind. Like admitting you were wrong about a vegetable and being okay with it.
It’s proof that some things need time. Heat. Patience. And a little sweetness to make sense.
Now if you’ll excuse me, my hands are still pink and I’m pretending I don’t see the last ladoo waiting for me.
