The epic war of spices : Part 3, The rejoinder

Part three of most stories are mind numbingly boring. The chief selling point is the apparent progression of the story or the apparent introduction of plot changing characters. This blog doesn’t employ a PR agency to moderate mass messaging.  Hence the blow of boredom is not going to be cushioned..

By 1967,where this part takes off, the congress was all but uprooted from Tamil nadu. This, though irrelevant to this story, holds some significance to the readers of this blog who can leave this passage right now and read up briefly, on the fascinating history of the madras presidency and later the madras state. The links may really be interesting and you might end up forgetting that you were directed to those pages from here. So, I beseech you to be lazy to click on those links and to continue with the next paragraph.

Before getting started... what is a response to a rejoinder called? God only knows a? ok.
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Madras welcomed guests with open arms and soon businesses were set up. There were a lot of people from Andhra, Kerala and some from Karnataka too.The Marwaris gheroed Sowcarpet. One wonders if Sowcarpet was two deg. cooler than the rest of Chennai(Chinnai is hot yaar). History is not very clear about this. 

In time, many Andhra messes crop up in lacalities with considerable Telugu poppulation serving up piping hot Andhra meals. The amount of rice served in these places per day, if stacked one behind the other at one rice thickness would… hmmm… ok this was really before the time of internet so placing an absurd comparison on this is beyond me…  let us say it  would cover 2-3(say) foot(d) ball fields or something. The essence of the statement though, is that large quantities of rice were served.But, this was not the novelty; the novelty of the place was finding more green chillies than vegetables in the various broths served by them and the Gunpowder, silently lurking just out of eyesight.

While this Andhra mess movement grew, offering a spicy alternative to the pretty bland local cuisine, the other messes like the ‘erode kurinji mess’ and the ‘namakal nayagan mess’ started losing its patrons. The cold war had fizzled out by now, but the slow weapon deployed by Srinivas was working with cold precision. It was hurting in a way not originally designed for; but, it was hurting.

The Dravidian movement was at its zenith and anything non Tamil was met with, err… Tamil. The Tamil mess uzhiyar sangam (TMUS) (Tamil mess employees union) approached the Chief Minister with a petition banning Andhra messes from Tamil Nadu. “Andhra is also north Indian, anything north of Chennai is north India” reasoned a visibly tempestuous Sathiyamoorthy. 

The CM heard the petition out and is said to have remarked "andhra mess a? ithu enna vengayam" (what Andhra mess?? onions!!)

One more note: Though it is puzzling, this random reference to onions; it is a popular phrase first used by one of the then CM’s mentor ‘Periyar’. Used with the right intonation and swagger it can be remarkably dismissive of the topic in discussion.

The CM’s aide though, one Mr Chokkalingam, was a shrewd fellow. He understood that there were already too many protests to organize, quell and ghost direct. This issue cannot become another one of those. He walked home that day, contemplating his move against this new problem at hand.

“What do I do? What do I do?”

Onions!! the CM’s voice played in his head.

“Hehe… onions…Wait... onions… Why not?” He got up. Sambar shall be fought with sambar, kootu with kootu, poriyal with poriyal (various constituents of a Tamil cuisine). He recalled his wife Meenakshi’s first attempt at cooking. It had been a disaster. What had started out to be an edible broth had turned out so spicy that he had playfully named it "Kara Kozhambu" (through running nose and tears). That ‘kara kozhambu’ had onions which were small islands of solace in the swelttering sea  of orange. It was wild. but like some wild things, delightfully so, and with a potential to take on the formidable foe.

Mr. Choks slyly introduced a tempered version of Meenakshi’s recipe at strategic hangout spots. The Kara Kozhambu, a devilish concoction of spices magically burned tongues while putting a smile on the crying faces. The play of various emotions on the face was an added bonus for the cook to watch. 

Strangely, this was followed by a lot of culinary experimentation on both sides. A lot of cuisines were ‘Indianised’. Slowly gobi machurian, originally from a place near Gobi (not gobichettypalayam), chicken 65, maggi noodles, etc. were included as a part of the 'cuisine'. A period of happiness and contentment followed.

But… things change... part 4...

The epic war of spices : Part 2, The rebuttal

The Head of bio warfare, Capsaicin division, Andhra - one Mr R.T. Srinivas was given the task of answering back to the Tamil taunt. This Srinivas was a man of considerable fortitude. He was lean, healthy and well fed. (What Varadhachari would have called a ‘chamathu kutti’ which translates to ‘smart small’, which actually implies a smart boy). He also had a keen taste for fashion and many believed that in this regard, he was way ahead of his time. He would carry off pink and yellow with such grace and masculinity that the womenfolk stayed away from those colours for the next few days.

He also spoke many languages.  He spoke English too.  

“What re? their sambar is spicy?”

“Yes saar” his understudy replied.

“I like this sweet flavour of bisibelabath, why spoil it in the name of war ra?”

“Dunno saar”

“Our boss is going mad over this issue... let us see… lunch chesara?” (had lunch?)

“Yes saar”

“What?”

“Curd rice with mango pickle.”

“Oh... I love that, sweet and sour... they are very tasty.”

“Yes saar”

He absentmindedly blew at his hair from his lower lips, a mannerism that he had picked up from the movies. His hair fluttered coyly in response.

A few more seconds passed. The clock on the wall ticked away.

Exhaling deeply, he got up. “I’m going to eat now, let me think about it while I eat…”

“Ok saar”

“Please finish the report the PM asked for. ‘Open drains as a prospective weapon of self-destruction’ or something no? That one…”

“Yes saar, Saar but that is not even in our scope saar”

“em cheyyali babu… they are saying garden drainage toilet drainage something and all, all smell the same no? what is difference…”

“ok saar”

“like this only is life, plus order is from the centre,nothing can be done ”

“Ok saar”

“sarra babu, nenu vellostanu”(I’ll be back)

“Ok saar”. 

So, while our Srinivas takes his lunch, he encounters ‘Curd chilli’ (a direct translation furnished for the benefit of the English speaking population). The Side dish, as they were called (not the ones we wrongly refer to now; stuff like pickle, chicken 65 or roasted peanuts), for curd rice, covered a variety of edible delights. The salted pickles, the raw onions, the chutneys, and for the adventurous ones, raw green chillies. The Curd chilli, being munched by Srinivas presently, is chilli emasculated by drying it in the sun after dunking it curd and salt. It is found in both Tamil and Andhra cuisines.

Srinivas gets his ‘eureka’ moment as he licks the last of his fingers and reaches for the glass of water. He leans back allowing the moment to pass, letting the bile settle down. He stares at nothingness for a while and nods off to sleep.

A Chilli Cries for help as it is slowly pulled into the quagmire of sour curd. The cries become more and more strident as it nears its death. Finally, there is nothing but deathly silence.

A lone tear streaks across Srinivas’ face. He wakes up, “I shall never have this again, I shall become a vegetarian like Gandhi. "Wait what? no...“. In his confusion, He is suddenly struck with a bright idea.

Note: Had this been a story written by a fellow who had an inclination to stitch in historic events for drama, Srinivas, at this juncture would have run on the streets naked, shouting “devudaaaaa”. But no. People of Andhra look down upon such things and running naked is a strict no no.

“Reddy garu, I have a plan.” Srinivas gasped. He paused for a bit, panting at the door way, having ‘fast-walked’ across the lawn. Reddy garu or A.V. Raghava Reddy was Srinivas's reporting officer.

“What?”

“Sir(not saar, because srini is posh), if we slowly increase the spiciness in our food, uniformly, in small quantities, such that even our people don’t realize the difference, over time, the Sambar, the weapon of the Tamils would be part of our regular stock. In a few years, we can surely render their 'sambar sadham' impotent.”

“Hmmm…” Reddy removed his spectacles with his pudgy fingers and wiped them. He was a stout man. When he leaned back, the chairs creaked. The biggest research in the weapons division was on the durability of A.V. Raghava Reddy’s chair. If they could only isolate the element that kept the chair together, they could design bomb proof tanks, tank proof vehicles and dent proof bumpers and so on. In fact, the many nips on the chair falsely attributed to the mice in the office were actually the samples that had been removed surreptitiously for testing.

Putting them glasses back on, AVRR exhaled, “but, Srinu we need to respond spectacularly. They will think we are sissies otherwise”

“Sir, you are right, it does seem too slow a process, but we have to take a lot of factors into consideration. Primarily, our finances. The "unscientific" bifurcation has left Andhra poorer. It would be a huge setback if we were to waste funds on a weapon that would be ousted easily by the Tamils two years down the line.”

“I can see your point Srinu... It is also true that you are a 'deergadarsi' like lord Krishna. I always like that about you... But in this case... "

“Sir, if I may add, Madras is going through a tumultuous period with Rajaji facing opposition from lot of quarters. If we can ever do something like this, it is now.”

“You have started advising me now”

“Saar no saar(the crowd pleasing version of sir)… your experience is my age, what saar, you are telling like this… just telling my view”

“Hmmm… let me see”

“Also, sir, to speed up the process we can use this mixture we have manufactured in our lab, I was just reviewing the results of its testing last week. It is a highly potent weapon for air attacks leaving the opposition sneezing and watering through their eyes. It incapacitates the opposition for up to four hours. But frankly Sir, I really don’t see it being deployed in the near future. I thought we could use the composition for this programme, with your permission.”

“For ingestion?”

“Yes…”

“Oh!”

“Yes… it does not taste that bad actually.”

“what? You have tasted it?”

“Accidently”

“what is it? safety is as simple as ABC or something right? always be careful or something… what happened to all that nonsense?“

“saaaar”

“Hmm... Ok ok I will see… but this is a nice addition now”.

“Yes, sir kandi podi”

“Thank you Srinivas, now you may leave”

“Thank you sir, it is also called GUN POWDER”

And thus began Operation Meals, Andhra Meals 

..... part 3

The Epic war of spices (Part 1)

Andhra did not get Chennai, or Madras as it was known then. The states were reorganized, boundaries fell, capitals rose and new states were formed. But, Andhra did not get Chennai. The newly formed states, Tamil Nadu (madras state, back then) and Andhra Pradesh though, never forgot what had transpired. There was residual anger under the surface of this uneasy calm,fanning up petty fires.

But, the animosity as it is today, between the two clans has nothing to do with the partition. It has innocent beginnings. It is also linked strangely to the sweetness of sambar in Karnataka (Who woud have thought sambar could be a bone of contention?).

Madras, a long time ago, took the sour and mildly sweet bisibelabath of Udupi and did away with the sweetness. The sambar, without its sweetness was hot, and spicy, and mildly sour. Gone were the sweetness of thoughts, actions and taste.

The first instance of this spicy sambar as always, can be traced back to a cook's smarts. Varadhachari, The head cook at the Chief Minister’s bungalow, Madras wanted to be rid of the ant problem in the kitchen. As he was tidying the place up, he saw his understudy slipping a few slabs of jaggery into a cloth bag.

“Edhuku da?” (for what?) he snarled. He was a man of quick temper and was generally as sour as tamarind rasam and as bitter as bitter gourd fry.

“Sambar ku na…” (for sambar / Anna,also na, are words for elder brother)

“Cha! Throw it out of the window; I have had enough with this nonsense. Today we are cooking sambar without jaggery.” 

“It will be too hot Anna”

“Nonsense!! Throw it!!”

“without jaggery?”

“Aama da” (yes)

Legend has it, that night, the Chief Minister’s bungalow glowed extra bright with the lights of the bungalow and the tummy of the occupants. The next day though, the bunglow and its occupants realised that this was actually tastier and that adding jaggery was in fact “nonsense”. They forgave Varadhachari but cautioned him to watch his temper and that his next transgression would be his last.As he was leaving the hall, after the inquisition, the matron of the family remarked “Varadhu, Please reduce the spice, but don’t add jaggery to sambar ever again”.

All was well. For the next few months at least. But, Varadhu, being Varadhu had to lose his temper again and this time it had consequenses. He became the unwitting protagonist of the fateful evening that started this cold, pile bleeding war.

The events of the day are mostly documented only through word of mouth. By stitching together the anecdotes of the many hands in the chef’s kitchen, the following has been agreed by most scholars as the most plausible story of that day. On that fateful summer  night though, no one spoke, and on the next day, most of them stayed in, refusing to come out. (rather, they stayed out, refusing to come in - the toilet complex was outside the premises). 

It is believed that Varadhachari had missed his afternoon kapi (coffee). His wife had fought with him over some domestic issue and had refused him his afternoon kapi.

andha round pathrathula pala sudavekadhengo nu eththandhadava sollirken?

How many times have I told you not to boil milk in the round bottomed vessel?

Mathadellam thekkanum di…

Others are already used and are to be washed

Thechu eduthukkapdadha?

 Can’t you wash them?

Ippo enna aachu?

What’s wrong with this now?

Neenga velila pongo, ongalukku coffee kadayadhu…

Get out no coffee for you today

He was actually angrier at not having kapi on schedule than he was with her for denying it. He stormed into the CM’s kitchen.

“What is all this?”

“Guests have come from Andhra na, I'm making our famous sweet free bisebelabath”

“Seri, for that you will waste this much rice a?”

“Anna… 4 people more”

“They won’t eat even half of this… remove some rice...”

“Anna, the spices are already...”

“Ennada noinoi nu, I said get some rice out of this Anda” (Anda- A large vessel)

“Seri na…”

What happened after that as they say is history. And the last line, as they say, is a cliché.

The main ingredient in the Sambar responsible for this, the powder of spices: Extracted, enriched and reduced into a highly spicy concoction was not sufficiently controlled by the heat exchanger (Rice). The nuclear fission instantly brought tears to the eyes, steam through the ears, mucus through the nose and other miscellaneous things from other miscellaneous orifices. 

In other circumstances, the incident at the bungalow would have evoked laughter, derision and a string of bad toilet jokes. Not this time, this was different, this was war. The “guests” from Andhra would take this personally.... 

.... To be continued