BENGALURU: My sister, Priya, and I grew up with south Indian food cooked at home by Amma. Unlike many mothers, Amma neither had a great liking for cooking nor did she have a bank of recipes handed to her by her own mom. My grandma passed away when Amma was very young, and thus, her only connection with cooking was seeing the family prepare the meals. But to me, good food is all about Amma’s cooking.
Everybody in our family has a sweet tooth. This inevitably meant that when we want to celebrate anything special at home, the first thing we think of is the dessert. During my childhood, the highlight of Sunday lunch would be Amma’s special treat for us, vella payar, a delicious dessert made by simply cooking moong or red eyed beans with jaggery and coconut till it all came together into a glorious mass. On the days Amma did not make this, Appa would step in with his signature pazham nurukku, steamed yellow bananas cooked in jaggery syrup and ghee, a dish with which he could have my sister and I eating out of his hands. He recently visited his nephews in the US and had everyone licking their fingers in delight when he prepared this dish for them.
I have always had a soft corner for food. I remember, as a kid, the first thing I would do on waking up was rush to the kitchen to select the fruit I would eat as soon as I had brushed my teeth! I waited for my birthday so that Amma would pamper me with my favourite semiya payasam. For the auspicious day of Vishu, she made chakka payasam, a delectable dessert that most Kerala homes make during jackfruit season, with home-made jackfruit preserve, jaggery and dollops of ghee.
On Onam, Vishu and other festivals, she also cooked the traditional staples — her avial and mor kootan (Kerala-style kadhi made with curd and coconut) are incomparable, as is her pachadi. Even years after marriage and setting up home, I have not bothered to train my cooks to prepare Amma’s dishes. Palakkad Iyer cooking is very distinct, and I think only years of practice can make it perfect. I am lucky that my parents stay very close to my house and on days that I am not shooting or occupied with work, I still get to eat all my Amma’s staples.
In fact, I call in advance and tell her to keep my favourite food ready. What I love about her kitchen is that there is always idli-dosa batter ready in the fridge waiting to be relished with her fiery molagapodi. I can make a meal out of molagapodi alone and can eat it in so many ways, even just sprinkled on steaming hot rice with ghee. I also look forward to relishing her sambar made with pearl onions even though it is very rarely prepared these days because peeling them is tedious.
I have a peculiar habit when it comes to food: I can make a meal out of just dry subzi; I don’t need roti, rice, bread or even dal to complete a meal. Growing up, Amma would sometimes cook for both meals together when she had to go out for chores and did not have time to cook in the evening. To the great annoyance of my sister, I would come home from school and polish off the entire subzi in just one sitting.
In fact, Amma’s homemade pav bhaji without the pav is instant comfort food for me as is her adai — thick pancakes made with a variety of lentils, fiery whole red chillies and curry leaves. This dish is not just tasty, but full of nutrition.
The world has discovered multigrain food just now, but we Malayalis have been eating multigrain dishes forever! Palakkad Iyers have a weakness for everything puli or tart and for vellam or jaggery. We use jaggery in everything from kozhukattai—steamed rice balls filled with a mixture of jaggery and grated coconut—payasam and avil or sweetened beaten rice. I remember, back in my childhood, when there was nothing sweet to eat after lunch, Dad would break a coconut and we would enjoy slices of it with jaggery.
(Excerpted with permission from Recipes for Life by Sudha Menon, published by Penguin Random House)