Thayir Sadham With...?
Thayir Sadham, Thachi Mammam, Thasuru Anna, Bagala Bath, Curd Rice...Call it What you will...But the thing is divine.
I am a vegetarian and a flexible one at that. You know what I mean? I am not one of those veggie bigots who will keep reminding you of their narrow choices of foods and restaurants when you eat out; and make you feel guilty by ordering home delivery (and reminding you about it the next day) after returning from a "fine diner" where there weren't enough choices to suit their narrow dietary habits.
I am also not one of the annoying fretters that would liberally lecture hapless non-vegetarians on the virtues of vegetarianism; how it is an elevated state of existence; and how they are God's "chosen people", a step closer to Moksha, in the vicious cycle of births and rebirths, due to an accidentally picked up food habit.
On the other hand, I can be pretty good company for dinner, casually conversing or even cracking a joke as you eat a large-headed fish, raw beef sheered off of the holiest animal known to Hindus, a rabbit's brain, or a stinking pig's liver...I challenge you to bear a poker-faced countenance when somebody eats dog meat.
My tastes in vegetarian are vast and real. I can veritably devour over Red Penang Curry (with tofu substitute), a plate of Ravioli (with red wine), a Greek salad (ahem, and lots of bread), or a a couple of plates of Bruschetta, with as much panache as I would gobble up Masala Dosas or Aloo Gobi Mutter.
But, if you were to put me through a torture chamber, and afflict me with insufferable pain and starve me off my carb-rich vegetarian diet; after a few days of continuous wakefulness and a handful of broken bones and a few ripped-off nails, I would confess to one of my darkest gastronomical secrets, now buried in a deep corner of my brain (or my heart)...weathered by storms and assaults on my pallette during multiple sojourns to foreign lands and umpteen client dinners.
The secret, ladies and gentlemen, is my soft corner for one of the greatest dishes that I have ever tasted; and a lifeline to millenia of human kind in the Indian peninsula...Thayir Sadam, Curd Rice, Bagala Baath, Thachchi Mammu...call it what you want to
I may not be in that category (yet), but I know of friends and family who will auction off their belongings and a few dear ones for a plateful of Thayir Sadam.
But make no mistake about it. A plate of Thayir Sadam is savored at its best with the right side dish that suits your character and your moods. So, what does Thayir Sadam go well with? You see, Thayir Sadam is like a chameleon. It deftly adapts itself to its situation, the moods of the hogger, and the demography and chronography. In Karnataka, they have it for breakfast with boondi and garnished with pomengrenates and grapes; in Tamilnadu they make fun of this "aberrant" behavior while devouring over a plateful of mashed Thayir Sadam at peak afternoon enabling generations of government employees their rightful siestas at work...resulting in a million pending files. Children are fed with Thayir Sadam till they can feed themselves; the old eat Thayir Sadam till they are fed with "vaykku arisi"; patients are advised to have only Thayir Sadam during all kinds of sickness, as it is "easily digestable"; dieting supermodels are asked to have a carefully measured cup of Thayir Sadam to cool their body and their soul; and professors and priests alike pack tiffin boxes full of this magnificient dish for picnics, religious tours, and treks; and lick the last speck off of their thinning fingers...along with their favored side dish.
It is difficult to say what would be the hands-down winner as a side dish to arguably the oldest staple dish known to mankind, the ambrosia of the devas, the Quiche Lorraine of Asia...
Avakkai, kichilikkai (narthangai), elimichchangai (uppu and kaaram), maavadu, thokku (manga, thakkali, karuveppalai, koththamballi), puLi kachchal, maakaLi kazhangu, poondu oorkai, vaththal kozhambu, thogayal...the usual suspects are absolute Nirvana, no doubt.
But, here is the deal. Don't underestimate your plate of Thayir Sadam. The greatness of it -- and I suspect there is a divinity associated to it -- is how it gets along with about ANYTHING.
My mom has it with pepper mint, banana, and Halls (on certain vratams when she can't eat salt or pepper). My daughter and son have it with Eclairs; and I am one of the most "broad-minded" Thayir Sadam eater there is! I have tried it with rasam, kootu, sutta appalam, kathirikkAi curry, vendakkai pachidi, Omlette (delicious), pasta sauce, adai, dosai, Lays chips, and with green salad.
I think the millenia of resourcefulness that has gone into discovering and re-discovering it and the love and affection with which moms have fed it to generations of children has given it a certain "power", a certain resilience, because of which it adapts itself to any situation and any side dish.
So, the next time, after a "satisfying" dinner at your favorite Italian, Thai, or Medittaranean restaurant, you still crave for a cuppa Thayir Sadam after you are back home, don't curse yourself for not being the avant garde fine diner...you have just been struck by a lightning of culinary divinity!
I am a vegetarian and a flexible one at that. You know what I mean? I am not one of those veggie bigots who will keep reminding you of their narrow choices of foods and restaurants when you eat out; and make you feel guilty by ordering home delivery (and reminding you about it the next day) after returning from a "fine diner" where there weren't enough choices to suit their narrow dietary habits.
I am also not one of the annoying fretters that would liberally lecture hapless non-vegetarians on the virtues of vegetarianism; how it is an elevated state of existence; and how they are God's "chosen people", a step closer to Moksha, in the vicious cycle of births and rebirths, due to an accidentally picked up food habit.
On the other hand, I can be pretty good company for dinner, casually conversing or even cracking a joke as you eat a large-headed fish, raw beef sheered off of the holiest animal known to Hindus, a rabbit's brain, or a stinking pig's liver...I challenge you to bear a poker-faced countenance when somebody eats dog meat.
My tastes in vegetarian are vast and real. I can veritably devour over Red Penang Curry (with tofu substitute), a plate of Ravioli (with red wine), a Greek salad (ahem, and lots of bread), or a a couple of plates of Bruschetta, with as much panache as I would gobble up Masala Dosas or Aloo Gobi Mutter.
But, if you were to put me through a torture chamber, and afflict me with insufferable pain and starve me off my carb-rich vegetarian diet; after a few days of continuous wakefulness and a handful of broken bones and a few ripped-off nails, I would confess to one of my darkest gastronomical secrets, now buried in a deep corner of my brain (or my heart)...weathered by storms and assaults on my pallette during multiple sojourns to foreign lands and umpteen client dinners.
The secret, ladies and gentlemen, is my soft corner for one of the greatest dishes that I have ever tasted; and a lifeline to millenia of human kind in the Indian peninsula...Thayir Sadam, Curd Rice, Bagala Baath, Thachchi Mammu...call it what you want to
I may not be in that category (yet), but I know of friends and family who will auction off their belongings and a few dear ones for a plateful of Thayir Sadam.
But make no mistake about it. A plate of Thayir Sadam is savored at its best with the right side dish that suits your character and your moods. So, what does Thayir Sadam go well with? You see, Thayir Sadam is like a chameleon. It deftly adapts itself to its situation, the moods of the hogger, and the demography and chronography. In Karnataka, they have it for breakfast with boondi and garnished with pomengrenates and grapes; in Tamilnadu they make fun of this "aberrant" behavior while devouring over a plateful of mashed Thayir Sadam at peak afternoon enabling generations of government employees their rightful siestas at work...resulting in a million pending files. Children are fed with Thayir Sadam till they can feed themselves; the old eat Thayir Sadam till they are fed with "vaykku arisi"; patients are advised to have only Thayir Sadam during all kinds of sickness, as it is "easily digestable"; dieting supermodels are asked to have a carefully measured cup of Thayir Sadam to cool their body and their soul; and professors and priests alike pack tiffin boxes full of this magnificient dish for picnics, religious tours, and treks; and lick the last speck off of their thinning fingers...along with their favored side dish.
It is difficult to say what would be the hands-down winner as a side dish to arguably the oldest staple dish known to mankind, the ambrosia of the devas, the Quiche Lorraine of Asia...
Avakkai, kichilikkai (narthangai), elimichchangai (uppu and kaaram), maavadu, thokku (manga, thakkali, karuveppalai, koththamballi), puLi kachchal, maakaLi kazhangu, poondu oorkai, vaththal kozhambu, thogayal...the usual suspects are absolute Nirvana, no doubt.
But, here is the deal. Don't underestimate your plate of Thayir Sadam. The greatness of it -- and I suspect there is a divinity associated to it -- is how it gets along with about ANYTHING.
My mom has it with pepper mint, banana, and Halls (on certain vratams when she can't eat salt or pepper). My daughter and son have it with Eclairs; and I am one of the most "broad-minded" Thayir Sadam eater there is! I have tried it with rasam, kootu, sutta appalam, kathirikkAi curry, vendakkai pachidi, Omlette (delicious), pasta sauce, adai, dosai, Lays chips, and with green salad.
I think the millenia of resourcefulness that has gone into discovering and re-discovering it and the love and affection with which moms have fed it to generations of children has given it a certain "power", a certain resilience, because of which it adapts itself to any situation and any side dish.
So, the next time, after a "satisfying" dinner at your favorite Italian, Thai, or Medittaranean restaurant, you still crave for a cuppa Thayir Sadam after you are back home, don't curse yourself for not being the avant garde fine diner...you have just been struck by a lightning of culinary divinity!
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