The first memory of any Tamil gathering begins not with faces, but with fragrance. The air grows heavy with the warmth of slow-simmered gravies. The mutton chukka crackling at the edges; chicken kuzhambu floating in oil; meen kuzhambu sharp with tamarind and fenugreek, its oil glistening like molten amber; banana leaves sweat under fluffy white rice, absorbing rasam; velvety chicken salna soaking in barotta; chunks of eeral sizzled with aromatic garlic, and curled prawns glossy with masala.
From weddings that span multiple days to thiruvizhas that draw entire villages into celebration, food is not an accessory but the event itself. Long after the laughter dies down and the pandal is dismantled, what lingers is the verdict on the feast: whether the mutton was tender enough, whether the chicken had the right balance of heat, and whether the fish curry tasted like it was cooked at home and not rushed. In Tamil culture, a celebration is measured not by its scale but by its spread, because virundhombal — hospitality rooted in feeding — has taken such a deep hold in the Tamil psyche. People may forget the decorations, the speeches, but they will always remember how they ate; what touched their tongue, what warmed their stomach, and how, in that act of sharing food, they felt included, respected, and at home.
Doing all these right was Chennai Sangamam 2026, which unfolded over the four days of Pongal. While artistes and performers took over stages across venues, filling the city with music, movement, and celebration, what also claimed the spotlight loudly was the food. While food stalls became maps of the state, bringing together flavours and techniques from districts that many city dwellers knew only by name, what stood out was the vaazhai elai-adorned ‘Then Naattu Kari Virundhu’.
Thoothukudi Member of Parliament (MP) Kanimozhi Karunanidhi was insisting on an authentic kari virundhu being served at the Chennai Sangamam, informs Daniel Glady, one of the organisers. “So, our motto was to simply give the city-dwellers the experience of a non-vegetarian feast. For that, we brought in a caterer from Virudhunagar called Vijayan Catering,” Daniel says. The expansive spread — including karandi omelette, ratha poriyal, elumbu kuzhambu, kudal kootu, seeraga samba mutton biryani, eeral gravy, mutta paniyaram, and coin barotta — was predominantly centred on goat meat, an ingredient known for its high cost. But the feast was made available at Rs 500, with the support of the MP, Daniel adds.
Anand Vijayan from Vijayan Caterers, who brought the feast to the tables, elucidates the effort, starting from the brief he was given. “They asked me for a menu, but with the condition that there must be enough of everything, and that the quantity served for the first pandhi should be the same till the last pandhi,” he says. Nothing, he was told, could run short. This requirement shaped every decision that followed, especially when it came to sourcing and portioning. Certain dishes posed unique challenges for Anand. “Eeral is difficult because you only get 500 to 700 grams per goat,” he explains, adding how making it available across hundreds of diners posed a logistical challenge that he overcame by carefully choosing vendors.
Equally important for both Anand and the organisers of Chennai Sangamam was staying true to the spirit of a kari virundhu. “The challenge for me was to use all parts of the goat because that is what a kari virundhu is. That is why I included elumbu kuzhambu, where we use the bones of the goat for flavour after removing its meat for kola urundai,” he explains, emphasising the cultural integrity behind the menu. Chicken was added for those who might not prefer some parts of the goat meat. One notable addition — barotta — came directly from Kanimozhi, Anand says, since it is one of the most-loved south Tamil Nadu specialities.
He notes that preparing dishes like ratha poriyal and eeral requires particular care, as even many regular non-vegetarians rarely eat them or are accustomed to their flavours. “These items should have balanced masalas for diners to enjoy them. In dishes like eeral, the meat should be cooked perfectly. If overcooked, it becomes hard and therefore chewy and unpalatable.” But across the three days, diners’ fingers grew slick with ghee, and they gnawed the bones so clean that registration phone lines were flooded, and walk-ins arrived hoping to be fed, prompting organisers to extend the feast into a fourth day. “Overall, I think around a thousand people feasted this year at Semmozhi Poonga, and to feed them, forty of us from Vijayan Catering cooked,” Anand says.
District-wise delicacies
Beyond the feast itself, the 20 venues where performers and artistes lined up to entertain the audiences, stalls curated by the organisers stood tall. Many of the 110 stalls showcased district-specific delicacies brought in from across the state. Daniel shares, “We had stalls from Yercaud, Kanniyakumari, Ambur, Vaniyambadi, Karaikudi, Karaikal, and Thanjavur, among others. Many of the foods they served were very unique to their location. For instance, we had mutta muttai, a sweet served at a stall by people from Ginjee, poricha barotta from Thoothukudi, patrai karuvadu and palaya soru from Ramnad, and so on. Then a particular kazhangu from a tribal village in Yercaud was sold at a stall, and even food from a small island village in Kanniyakumari called Pechiparai was brought and served at the festival,” he illustrates. In addition to these, special Dashamakhan style beef roast veal kebab stalls were also put up at the festival.
For those without the means to financially benefit from setting up a stall, such as the villagers from Pechiparai, the organisers stepped in with support, facilitating their stay and providing allowances, among other forms of assistance.
Beyond native fare, other cuisines closely tied to Tamil identity were also represented. Sri Lankan dishes were served by Olaiputtu, a restaurant run by refugees, while Burmese food, long inseparable from Tamil food culture, was also part of the festival’s offerings.