Giving Hyderabadi Desserts The Same Reverence as Biryani
A fragrant celebration of almond sweets, heritage, and craft unfolded at Marriott Executive Apartments Hyderabad, as Dakni Sweet Treats and Sangat came together to bring alive the delicate art of Deccani mithai-making ahead of Diwali.
There’s something quietly magical about a room filled with the fragrance of almonds, ghee, and saffron. At Marriott Executive Apartments in Hyderabad’s Nanakramguda, this aroma wrapped itself around the guests like a silk dupatta — delicate, intricate, and steeped in history. This evening was a celebration of stories told not in words, but in the poetry of sweets.
Naina Roshan Khundmeri, director of Dakni Sweet Treats, stood at the centre of it all, said with quiet pride, “These recipes were whispered down through generations. We are just making sure they are not forgotten.” Dakni, founded in 1994, has always carried the soul of royal kitchens in its copper pans and almond pastes — an effort to give Hyderabadi desserts the same reverence the city’s biryani enjoys.
At this special masterclass, hosted in collaboration with Sangat, a cultural initiative that celebrates Dakni art and heritage, three iconic confections were brought to life: Badam ki Jali, Ashrafi, and Badam Khund. Each sweet carries with it a slice of Hyderabad’s layered history — a reminder of a time when kitchens were laboratories of artistry and women were the keepers of flavour, form, and finesse.
The first act of the evening belonged to the Badam ki Jali, that intricate almond lattice that once adorned festive platters in royal homes. Naina’s mother, Chef Anjum, moved deftly, her hands remembering what time had almost tried to erase. Almonds and cashews were boiled, peeled, ground to a silken paste, and then kneaded into warm dough.
In came the ancient chapa — a small steel cutter used for generations. With delicate precision, she pressed it into the dough, shaping flowers and motifs, later lined with edible silver foil. What emerged was more than a sweet — it was a piece of art.
Next came Ashrafi, the golden disc named after the Deccan’s royal coins and inspired by the Gul Ashrafi flower. Its dough, infused with saffron, shimmered with a quiet opulence. When pressed between engraved coin moulds, it revealed its twin imprints — a dessert born of history and generosity. “Food was never just food here,” Naina smiled. “It was a statement of culture, of grace.”
The final delicacy, Badam Khund, a dense almond and saffron sweet, echoed the indulgence of weddings and grand feasts. Once served after biryani, it was a symbol of royal hospitality. In the Nizami kitchens, this was more than dessert; it was a gesture of warmth and power. Watching Chef Anjum stir, fold, and shape the sweet felt like being let in on a family secret — one carefully preserved and lovingly shared.
Dakni’s story is, at its heart, a story of women. Of mothers and daughters who didn’t just cook but created. Of recipes that lived in whispered instructions and practiced hands. Of sweets that travelled through time — from gilded palaces to modern kitchens, without losing their soul.
