Food Musings From India
#1 Mor Kuzhambu (buttermilk-based curry)
A culinary love affair
The year was 2005. It was a hot afternoon in school. As I was trying my best to hold back the sleep, I noticed the speed of the ceiling fan got slower and eventually came to rest. I immediately turned my sight to the switchboard only to see the fan’s switch in the ON position. The fact then dawned on me that it was a power outage. I cursed. Some laughed. My friend cracked a joke under her breath. A lot of them joined in the laughter.
The lecturer took notice. Sometimes, things happen to people for no apparent reason. She vented out her entire classroom's worth of anger on me.
For a pre-adolescent boy, who is raging with hormones and confused about puberty, facing a humiliation of this magnitude could be overwhelming. I remember the next hour was lunch. Still teary-eyed and filled with rage, I reluctantly opened the lunchbox to find ‘mor kuzhambu’ mixed with rice. The aroma of ghee and the yellow-coloured froth on the sides was a delight to see.
I couldn’t resist the temptation and had a spoonful of it. The ground coconut and the beaten buttermilk gave this dish a graceful consistency. The white pumpkin was cooked perfectly and the mustard seeds were beautifully tempered and sprinkled throughout the dish.
As I was lost in the world of textures, I heard the word, “Sorry”. I looked up to see the “joke cracker” standing with her hand extended. I obliged. “What ma’am did was unfair,” she remarked. It was the start of a friendship. It was one of the most memorable lunches I had to date.
‘Mor kuzhambu’ is one of the few dishes that has a variant every 50 km in India. The textures vary from region to region. Punjab’s ‘kadhi pakora’ is slightly thicker than ‘mor kuzhambu’. Flavours vary too. Gujarat’s ‘kadhi’ is on the sweeter end of the spectrum. The variations of the dish seem endless in South India ranging from ‘majige huli’ in Karnataka to ‘mor kuttan’ in Palakkad. While it’s not uncommon to pair ‘roti’ with ‘kadhi’, it’s almost a sin to pair it with ‘mor kuzhambu’.
‘Mor kuzhambu’ tastes great just as it is but the experience is different when paired with ‘paruppu usili’. Or as I like to call it, ‘paruppusili’ (in a single breath), literally translates to dal crumble in Tamil. Traditionally, ‘paruppusili’ is made in a heavy-bottomed brass or cast-iron vessel called a ‘VaaNali’, which aids in forming a beautiful crisp crust at the bottom.
The soft, spicy, fragrant lentil crumble paired with steamed cluster beans marries perfectly with the tart ‘mor kuzhambu’. This duo is so popular that no South Indian feast is complete without these two dishes.
I like to fold in ‘paruppusili’ with piping hot rice, ghee and have it as it is — my favorite dish as a kid. It’s one of the few dishes that I missed after I moved out of my home. I didn’t realize the magnitude of effort it takes to get this dish right.
I’d like to consider another remarkable South Indian ‘kuzhambu’ (curry) and compare it here — ‘karuvepillai poondu kuzhambu’ (garlic & curry leaf based curry). While both the dishes are entirely different, in terms of cooking technique, taste, and consistency, they have one thing in common — the way the ingredients are used and the balance they bring to the dish.
The dynamic between garlic cloves and curry leaves in this ‘kuzhambu’ is unparalleled. It is often made when someone is recovering from a cold. When the taste buds are dead and everything tastes insipid, this ‘kuzhambu’ is served to awaken the palate. This is one dish that I enjoy in sickness and health.
While ‘mor kuzhambu’ tastes great when paired with ‘paruppusili’, this ‘kuzhambu’ is best enjoyed as it is. Steaming hot rice, a couple of ladles of ‘karuveppilai poondu kuzhambu’, and gingelly oil — simplicity at its best.
Both the aforementioned dishes seem to work well because of the core underlying philosophy, I feel, which is ‘minimum ingredients, maximum flavour’. Economics is an integral part of the cooking process. For those interested in learning the concept of budget, I suggest they observe how a meal is prepared in the kitchen. It’s like an open introductory course.
