Payasam: Exploring the humble dessert of Onam Sadya

If you’ve ever sat at a banana-leaf feast during Onam , you know there’s a special hush that falls over the table once the servers walk out with big brass pots of dessert. Everyone straightens a little, spoons ready, because we all know what’s coming: payasam .

For Malayalees, payasam isn’t just sweet pudding. It’s memory, it’s celebration, it’s the taste of the harvest season wrapped in coconut milk and jaggery. And while payasam usually gets all the glory, the truth is, Onam Sadya has a whole lineup of sweets, each with its own story and personality.

Ada Pradhaman: The king of payasam
When we were little, the arrival of Ada Pradhaman was the signal that the feast was at its peak. Thick, dark, and heavy with jaggery, it smelled of ghee and roasted coconut. The rice ada, those delicate little flakes, would turn soft and chewy after slow cooking. The elders always said, “This is the real payasam. Everything else is just sidekicks.”

They weren’t wrong. One spoonful and you feel the weight of tradition smoky sweetness, the richness of coconut milk, cashews fried to a crunch. It’s not something you gulp down; you take it slow, because it’s more than food.

Palada payasam : The gentle cousin
If Ada Pradhaman is the king, Palada Payasam is the gentle prince. It’s pale, creamy, and lighter on the stomach. Instead of jaggery, it uses sugar, and the ada flakes float like petals in sweet milk. we’ve seen this one win over many first-timers because it tastes familiar, almost like rice pudding but silkier.

In temple feasts, palada is usually the first payasam served. It sets the tone, easing you into the world of Kerala sweets without overwhelming your palate.

Parippu payasam : Sweet lentils, really
The first time you tasted parippu payasam, you were skeptical. Lentils? For dessert? But one spoonful was enough to change my mind. The moong dal, roasted lightly, takes on a nutty flavor. Add jaggery , ghee, and coconut milk, and suddenly it’s transformed into something rich, almost toffee-like.

It’s the kind of payasam that grows on you. Some call it humble compared to ada pradhaman, but we’ve seen people sneak second servings of this while pretending they’re “too full.”

Semiya payasam: The everyday favorite
Every Malayalee child knows semiya payasam. Vermicelli roasted in ghee, boiled in milk, sweetened, and topped with fried cashews, it’s simple, it’s comforting, and it shows up not just at Onam but at birthdays and random Sunday lunches too.

For kids, this is often the first dessert they really fall in love with at Sadya . It’s easy, not too rich, and feels a little like home no matter where you eat it.

Chakka pradhaman: When jackfruit joins the party
If you’ve never had jackfruit, imagine a fruit that smells like bubblegum and honey had a baby. Now cook it down with jaggery and coconut milk, and you’ve got chakka pradhaman.

It’s not always part of the Sadya jackfruit has its season and when it does appear, it’s unforgettable. Thick, sticky, golden, with a tropical sweetness that no other payasam can match. For you, maybe, it’s the most “festive” of them all, because you can’t separate jackfruit from Kerala’s identity.

Gothambu payasam : Old-school comfort
Then there’s gothambu payasam, made with broken wheat. It doesn’t try to dazzle you. It’s earthy, nutty, with a slight chewiness that makes it feel rustic and old-fashioned. our grandmother always insisted on making this, even when everyone else clamored for palada or ada. “This is real payasam,” she would say, ladling it onto our leaves.

We didn’t appreciate it as a child, but now, we understand why she loved it. It feels grounding, like it connects you to the soil itself.

Sweet companions: Not just payasam
While payasam steals the show, many homes add little side sweets for Onam:
Unniyappam – small, dark-golden fritters made of rice, banana, and jaggery, fried till crisp on the outside and soft inside.
Neyyappam – similar, but richer, thanks to generous ghee.
Kesari – a bright semolina sweet, often orange or pineapple-flavored.
These may not always be on the “official” Sadya list, but children and sweet-toothed adults know better.

How it’s served
Here’s something that surprises many outsiders: payasam at a Sadya is often poured right onto the banana leaf, where it mixes with leftover rice and curry. Some people wrinkle their noses at the thought, but trust is the key scooping up sweet payasam with your fingers from a leaf has a charm bowls can never match.

That said, modern feasts, especially outside Kerala, usually serve payasam in little steel bowls. Practical, yes. But the leaf experience? Irreplaceable.

Why so many?
Onam is about abundance, a harvest festival where you celebrate plenty. One dessert would never be enough. Each payasam brings a different mood: bold, delicate, nutty, creamy, tropical. Together, they form a chorus, not a solo.

Families often debate which one is best. Maybe your family also swears nothing beats ada pradhaman, while some insist palada is superior. In truth, Onam isn’t about choosing. It’s about tasting everything, about variety and generosity.

For beginners
If you’re new to Onam desserts, here’s the order:
Start with palada — it’s light and familiar.
Try parippu — you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
Save space for ada pradhaman — it’s rich and unforgettable.
If there’s chakka, don’t miss it.
Always, always go for seconds.

The sweet endingEvery Onam Sadya ends in sweetness. By the time you finish licking the last streaks of payasam from your banana leaf or bowl, you’re not just full, you’re part of something bigger. Payasam carries with it the memory of harvests, family laughter, crowded kitchens, and the joy of plenty.

So the next time Onam comes around, don’t stop at one dessert. Taste them all. Each payasam has a story, and together, they tell you what Onam is really about: abundance, celebration, and the comfort of sweetness shared.