Keerai kozhambu

When people tell me they’ve had a south Indian meal, I am always a bit perplexed. So what kind was it, I ask them. Nair, Iyer, Moplah, Chettinad, Hyderabadi or Udupi? For, while there are common threads that bind the food of the region loosely together, there are so many types of cuisines in the south, representing various communities, that you can write a thick tome on it. And then prepare for volume 2.

I thought of this again some weeks ago when I went for a Mudaliar meal at the Dakshin in ITC WelcomHotel New Delhi. The chef who prepared what was virtually a feast for us had come from Chennai. And chef Velumurugan P. knew what he was cooking for he belonged to the Mudaliar community himself.

The Mudaliars are a flourishing community from Tamil Nadu. The people, known as the Tuluva Velallers, were originally peasants. The land they tilled bore rich fruit, and the community became more and more affluent with the passing years. And they did so well for themselves that the title of the Mudaliar — which means the ‘first ones’ — was bestowed on them.

Meen kozhambu

I thought their origin was well reflected in the food — which had both a peasant touch and a rich feel to it. In many meat and seafood dishes, for instances, the Mudaliars add vegetables — a practice that is followed across the country by peasant communities to give volume to food that is more expensive or harder to get. The chef prepared an excellent dish called raal poruma kootu or prawns cooked with drumstick leaves. The leaves gave the sweet seafood a mildly sour taste that I enjoyed thoroughly.

The food has its share of spices, though the chef stressed the cuisine was milder than the Chettiyar food. Among the masalas that give the dishes their characteristic taste is something called vadakam — a mix of onions, garlic and a few aromatic spices. The vadakam, once prepared, can be stored for up to a year or so. This is the masala that goes into the meen kozhambu, which is an excellent dish of fish cubes cooked with coconut paste, tamarind and tomatoes.

I found the vegetables dishes rather interesting for they were a far cry from their north Indian counterparts. In kathrikai chops, the brinjal had been cooked gently but with a host of flavourful spices including mustard seeds and black pepper.

Raal poruma kootul

Often, the vegetable dishes are cooked with coconut and tamarind, which give the food a mildly tart taste along with a creamy texture. I particularly liked keerai kozhambu — a spinach dish — for the richness of texture, and the smooth mingling of flavours. It’s quite a simple recipe too. All that you have to do is first wash, blanch and strain the spinach leaves. Now add green chillies, tamarind extract and salt to this and then grind it together to make a coarse paste. Now, in a bit of ghee, add whole red chillies, mustard, split urad dal, and then when they splutter, add garlic, onion and tomatoes. Sauté well. Add this to the spinach, mix well and serve. Simple — but delicious.

But vegetables, of course, are just one part of the Mudaliar table. Prawns figure prominently on the menu, and the raal varuval — masala fried prawn — that I ate was outstanding. The prawn had been marinated with chillies and salt, and then thinly coated with a light rice batter. This had then been deep-fried, and presented as an appetiser. Another delicious Mudaliar appetiser is a small and crunchy triangular pastry filled with lightly spiced minced meat — the khaima somaas.

It was an interesting encounter, for I learnt something about a cuisine that’s still to make its mark in regions outside the south. The image that generally comes up in mind when you mention the word ‘Mudaliar’ is that of a gentleman called Varadarajan, who unfortunately wasn’t quite known for his culinary abilities, though he may well have been a mean cook. I think the time has come to erase that memory with some good food thoughts.

Kathrikai chops (serves 4)

Ingredients

• 400g baby brinjal • 100g chopped onions • 100g chopped tomatoes • 40g ginger-garlic paste • 15g slit green chillies • 5g turmeric powder • 20g Kashmiri chilli powder • 10g tamarind paste • 3g mustard seeds • salt to taste • 10g coriander powder • 10g black pepper powder • some sprigs of curry leaves • 15 whole red chillies • 150ml gingelly (sesame) oil

Method:

Take oil in a pan. Heat and add mustard seeds and whole red chillies. When they start to crackle, add chopped onions and sauté till golden brown. Add ginger-garlic paste and tomatoes and cook till they have been well mashed. Add all the other ingredients barring coriander and curry leaves and brinjal. Add salt and a little water. Add the brinjal. Stir gently. Once done, add some coriander leaves. Serve hot, garnished with coriander leaves and fried curry leaves.