And its origins
Without a doubt, it is a favorite of mine, and I eat a
couple of fluffy Idli’s manufactured to perfection by my wife, for breakfast, at
least two or three days every week. Sometimes, it is eaten with chutney, or
with onion chutney (Ulli Sammandhi) made the Palghat way, but most of the time
with gunpowder or Chutney podi. We have quite an assortment of these podi’s -
777, Annapurna, Brahmins, etc., on standby in the cupboard, but again, the homemade
version Shoba makes rules the roost. Surely, when those steamed Idlis are
dipped in the podi mixed with some oil, and chomped down, the day usually goes
well.
A few studies and research have been carried out on the
origins of this simple soul food, and it can be seen in the poetic works of
erstwhile writers and poets, who have not failed to praise versions of the
dish, though it may not have been quite the Idli we eat today, but a primitive
version cooked in some fashion, perhaps not steamed, and using only certain
kinds of lentils. Using terms such as snow-white incarnations of the celestial
moon on your plate, it was equated to solidified lunar rays, made from the foam
of the celestial Ganga, settling down as an early morning frost, or even as globular
deposits of boiled nectar!! And these mentions go as far back as 1,000 years!
Over the years it has found great popularity, and the most
fervent Idli ambassador has been none other than our eminent politician and
writer Shashi Tharoor. His stories and experiences with the dish are
fascinating and his ferocious counterattack during the infamous Idli-gate on
the Brit Ed Anderson, who had the temerity to call it the most boring food in
the world, enlivened social media for some days! Then again, other luminaries
have expressed a fondness for it, Indira Gandhi was one, and now there is US
Vice President Kamala Harris who seems to enjoy the dish.
There is no dearth of articles purporting to be the final
word on the history of the dish, many have been printed, published, copied, and
forwarded, but by and far are adapted using the conclusions arrived at by the
esteemed KT Achaya, India’s well-known food historian. Some have thus
concluded that it was imported from Indonesia while others have happily
accepted the incredible conclusions attributed to Lissie Collingham and others,
of its purported Arab origins. Anyway, I decided to don the thinking cap,
peruse available sources, and draft here a concise study on its origins. So,
here goes!
At the outset, one aspect is very clear, that a version or
versions of the dish were popular in the Kannada-speaking, Marathi, and
Gujarati areas of the Indian West Coast. Tamil, Telugu, and Malayali regions
seem to have been happy with the Kanji (rice gruel) for breakfast, until the 19th
or 20th century, though scant references to tiffin’s can be found
here and there, including the Dosa, mainly as tiffins. The first mentions of
the Idli as a food item are therefore found in Marathi and Kannada writings, as
uncovered by PK Gode and HG Narahari. As a popular dish, it moved with the
Kannadigas and Marathas to the Tamilakam, post the Vijayanagar epoch, as well
as Andhra and much later, to Malabar and Travancore. However, as you will see
later, there is a potential for a Tamil origin as well.
Let’s start by taking a look at the earliest study on the
subject, conducted and documented by Prof PK Gode from Pune. Parashuram Krishna
Gode, a Sanskrit and Prakrit scholar, and Indologist, was the first Curator of
the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, and cultural history was his forte.
His 1955 article attempts to tabulate the advent of the dishes Idli and Dose
between 1100 and 1900, and provides many a reference to their early versions,
reading through ancient works.
Gode’s conclusions mention that the Sanskrit Manasollasa
of the Chalukya King Someswara composed in 1130 was the earliest work
mentioning something similar to the Idli. He identifies the Idarika as its
possible precursor prepared from the fine flour of masa (beans) made into small
circular balls; which were cooked and then spiced by the use of the powder of
marica (black pepper), ghee, hingu (Asafetida), and the powder of jiraka
(cumin-seeds). A second reference in Prakrit, the Supasanahacaria composed
by Lakshmanagani in 1143 AD, tells the story of a young wastrel Datta who is
forever enjoying life and wanders around carrying with him his favorite foods,
and among many others is listed the Iddariya or the Iddarika. All this shows us
that iddariya enjoyed some popularity as a delicious dish in Gujarat and Saurashtra
in the first half of the 12th Century. He adds that though Idli is a Canarese
and a South Indian dish, it appears to have been popular in Gujarat in the 12th
Century and Maharastra up to the 16th Century, as will be seen from Saint
Ekanatha’s mention of it among other popular dishes like puriya, kshiraghariya,
etc. As an additional South Indian link, he locates it the Ramanuja Champu 1600
AD, which identifies Idli to be round, and made fragrant with ginger, cumin
seeds, and asafetida (ramatha) and concludes with a reference to the mention of
Idli in the Bjojanakuthuhala from the 17th century written by Raghunatha
Navahastha, showing that it was popular in Maharashtra in the 17th century.
Nevertheless, the 20th century Marathi Sabdakosha
mentions the word idari-li as Canarese and explains it as a dish made of the
fermented flour of beans (udada) and rice with salt, etc - and that the idari
is said to resemble the full moon in point of shape and color (namely circular
shape and whiteness. In conclusion, he brings up the Canarese dish Kadabu but
is not inclined to accept it as a relative of the Idli since the preparation is
quite different. He then suggested that Canarese scholars should make further
studies to determine the exact connections.
Quick to answer Gode’s request was HG Narahari also from
Poona, who perused Canarese works and opined thus in his paper ‘Idli in Kannada
literature’.
His investigation reveals that - Iddarige or Iddalige
appears to be the name by which the dish, now popular as Idli, was known to the
Kannadigas of old. He locates an early mention of the Iddarige in the Supasastra
of Jayabandhunandana, dating to the early 10th century or thereabouts, a dish prepared from
ground black gram (urdina bele), mixed with curd and water and spiced with
Asafoetida (In-gu), Cumin seeds (jirage), Coriander leaves (Kottumbari) and
black pepper (menasu). Following this, he sees it in the Parsvanathapurana
of Parsvapandita (1205 AD) mentioned with other dishes, as Iddalige, full of
flavor and served floating in melted butter! The Santisvarapurana of
Kamalabhava (1235 AD), likens Iddaliges served for dinner, to balls of the foam
of the celestial river Ganga. Mangarasa III (1508 AD) in his Samyaktvakaumudi
mentions it as Iddalige, while the Saundaravilasa of Annaji (1600 AD)
shows that it was served in a hotel and likens its brilliance to the cool-rayed
moon! The Jain poet Terkanambi Bommarasa in his Uddina Kadabu (1485 AD) likens
it to globular deposits of boiled nectar or to solidified lunar rays! But
Narahari concludes his study with a cryptic remark - In Karnatak at least
the modern Idli is nothing more than a diminutive form of the ancient giant
dish Huygadabu. Large vessels specially designed for its preparation are to be
found even now in all those Karnataka homes which still keep the old tradition.
Now let us get to the works of KT Achaya, oft mentioned,
quoted, and attributed. Using words carefully, he introduces the steamed Idli
as a rice cake, and that while Tamil Sangam literature from the sixth century
mentioned the dosai, they did not mention the Idli, though they are mentioned
in Kannada literature four centuries later. He adds that the Dukkais are
mentioned in Gujaratiu literature from 1068, though Dhoklas are only mentioned in
1520, as a steamed dish. He then goes on to list the inferences of Gode and
Narahari, and agrees that three elements of Idli making are missing – namely
use of rice, fermentation and finally steaming. He also mentions that Urad dhal
outcomes are off-white, and snowy white results poetically described are
difficult to explain, moreover, the vasena-polu from Andra for example is a
urad dal or millet steamed cake, like the iddarige, but different from the Idli
(I will get to this later, it is similar to the Konkani Moode). He introduces
the reference to the 920 AD work Vaddaradhan by Shivakotyacarya’s which
mentions it among the 18 items to be served by a lady offering refreshments to
a Brahmachari!
Indonesian connection
At this stage, Achaya introduces the foreign element, to
close the loop concerning fermentation and the use of rice. Quoting him - The
Indonesians ferment a variety of products (soybeans, groundnuts, fish) and have
a product very similar to the Idli, called kedli. It has been suggested
that the cooks who accompanied the Hindu kings of Indonesia during their visits
home (often enough to look for brides) between the eight and twelfth centuries AD,
brought innovative fermentation techniques to South India. Perhaps the use of
rice along with the dhal was an essential part of the fermentation step which requires
mixed microflora from both grains to be effective. Yeasts have enzymes which
break down starch to simpler forms, and bacteria (which dominate the Idli
fermentation) carry enzymes for souring and leavening through the formation of
carbon dioxide gas.
I could not find any dish named Kedali in Indonesia (there
is a kedali tree in Java – Radermachera in Malaya), so it became apparent that
Achaya was perhaps phonetically connecting the Idli to the Tape Ketan or Tape
Ketella, which however is nothing like Idli. The Ketan is a combo of ragi and
rice packed in leaves, while the Ketella uses casava or tapioca instead of
rice. It is fermented, sweet, and alcoholic. Kedli and KIdli also failed to connect,
the steamed rice cakes of SE Asia are named lontong/ketupat/nasi impit – where
cooked jasmine rice is packed with fragrant pandan leaves, aromatic lemongrass,
and a dash of salt, into banana leaves boiled, and served sliced as disks. The Konkani
moode looks somewhat similar but is made differently. BTW, Achaya also
mentions a Czech dish named Knedlik (pronounced needleek), a similar steamed
product.
But then again, I could be wrong, there may have been
something called Kedli, readers please direct me to any Indonesian site which
explains this and I will correct this paragraph. Until this is proven, I can
only say that the Kedli theory is just a suggestion.
Arab connection
This was the one that rankled, and is quoted by all and
sundry - Another theory argued by other food historians like Lizzie
Collingham from Britain and Kristen J. Gremillion from America, claim that Idli
was actually introduced by Arab traders, when they married and settled down in
the southern parts of India during the 9th to the 12th century. It is said that
these Arab settlers were particular about their diet, and often wanted halal
food but couldn’t clarify that too well to the local populace, which led to a
lot of confusion.
Arabs started to make rice balls, which would be
“flattened and eaten with a coconut paste”, as noted in ‘Encyclopedia of Food
History’, edited by Collingham and Gordon Ramsay of Britain, Oxford University
Press, and ‘Seed to Civilisation, The Story of Food’, by Heiser Charles B,
Harvard University Press, 1990. But this is being questioned by modern food
historians like Lizzie Collingham, Kristen Gremillion, Raymond Grew, Makhdoom
Al-Salaqi (Syria), Zahiruddin Afiyaab (Lebanon), among others and references available
at Al-Azhar’s University Library (Cairo, Egypt) also suggest that Arab traders
in the southern belt gave Idli when they settled there after marrying girls
from that part.
This was quite strange as an inference and appeared
concocted. I could not find this encyclopedia, but Collingham in her book Curry,
makes only a brief mention of Idlis, nothing about its origin, Ramsey has made
a visit or two to S India for his TV series, Gremillion deals with Anthropology
and American Indians, and the listed Arab historian’s unknown figures. Heiser
does not mention Idlis, Mary Ellen Snodgrass who compiled an encyclopedia,
connects Idli to a 6th-century Tamil festival booklet, sans details.
Coming to the point, there are many documents and details of
what the Pardesi Arabs and local Moplahs, Marakkars, and Labbais who were their
progeny, ate from their early contacts. Idli was not among them, though many
other rice items such as the Pathiri (rice roti), Pongappam (fermented rice
batter appam), Kinnathappam (steamed sweet rice cake), and many others, steamed,
fried dried or in oil figure, but nothing close to Idli’s – a dish which is ground,
fermented and steamed. There was no
difficulty with halal, they could procure live animals (except cows) when they
wanted and halal meat was never an issue in Malabar, Konkan, or along the way. Fragrant
meat curries, flavored rice dishes, and sweets have been a fine result of this
intermingling of cultures, but surely not the Idli.
One could ruminate on whether the Ethiopian Injera made of flatbread fermented teff flour and then steamed had some connections, but it is tenuous. Throughout Morocco, Tunisia, Yemen, other Middle Eastern countries, Egypt, and erstwhile Persian regions, as well as Turkey, I have not come across anything like the Idli, though they have flour pancakes.
A natural development? Chinese influence?
Xuan Zang mentions in the seventh century AD that Indians did
not have a steamer used for cooking rice, but the prevalence all over the
country of numerous steamed dishes like the Idli, dhokla, modakam, and puttu
indicates that steaming was quite common, and one can see that a special pot
was not needed for this. Nevertheless, special-purpose Idli steamers did make
their entry, like the Idli-Patram, over time. A 12th-century account
related to Prithviraj Chauhan’s court (1149-92) mentions a Khirora steamed rice
ball, making it clear that steaming was prevalent.
Achaya wonders (1994) if the Thosai mentioned in 6th-century
literature was fried or if it was fermented batter spread on a tava, predating
the Idli. He also records that the circular appam is mentioned together with
the idi-appam in the 5th century Perumpanuru and that it was
fermented rice batter.
The earliest Chinese links date back to the 7th
century and Chinese settlements existed at Quilon (see my article Quilon and
its trade links with China) with traders and sailors spending many months
living there. That said, it is only natural to assume that dumpling steamers
were introduced in Quilon/Tuticorin by the Chinese and possibly adapted by the
locals to make versions similar to the Idli. They must have used a version of
the dosa batter (rice plus urad) and steamed it to make large Idlis.
I am inclined to believe that a rice version found
popularity in the Tamilakam like the Thosai mentioned in the 6th
century. In the Portuguese annals, one can find references to the fried version
in the 16th century (1534) – the Paniyaram, its seller and her husband’s torn
ear lobe, which started a huge caste war between the Paravas and the
Marakkars/Labbais of Tuticorin and ended up with the arrival of Joao Da Cruz,
St Xavier and the conversion of the entire clan to Christianity! (for details
refer to my earlier article on the subject). The Paniyaram, a fried version of the Idli batter with spices seems to be more Chettinad than Muslim.
If indeed the Idli was a natural development from the
iddarike and the dhokla, it traveled with the Kannadigas and Marathas to
Madurai where they settled down. The Siva Pallakiseva Prabandham, a
seventeenth-century work by King Sahahaji, mentions Idlis. Perhaps the Sambar,
apparently of Maratha origin, came to be paired with Idli’s during the reign of
the Maratha kings at Madurai, then again as it was earlier popular in
Maharashtra, the use of dal curries with Idlis may have started even earlier.
The popularization in Calcutta, Madras, and Bombay was by
Udupi and Palghat Iyer hotels that initially served Madrasi bachelor employees
on the prowl, a quick and cheap breakfast. Thankappan Nair explains its
introduction in Calcutta over many a page, well worth reading.
We have so many versions today, the Rava Idli (I recounted
its story some years ago), the Kanchipuram Idli, The Mini and masala Idli, the Oats
Idli, Quinoa Idli, Pesarattu Idli, Paneer Idli, Sweet Idli, the Khusboo Idli
(named after the unconventional Tamil cinema star - spongy because of the use
of castor seeds) and many more to come.
Idly upma from leftover Idlis proved to be a good idea! The Konkani
Moode is cylindrical and steamed in screw pine leaves. The unconventional ones that
most readers may not know are the two varieties from Palghat, namely the
Ramasseri Idli (pictured above on banana leaves) and the Rangayyan or the spicy ‘Brahmin meat’ Idli.
Idli’s were served in certain legs of Indian Airlines in the
past (an irate passenger complained of getting a toothpick in his Idli at
30,000’– now if you wonder how that came to happen, that is indeed how a
housewife knows if the Idli is cooked – push in a toothpick, if the batter is
seen sticking to the withdrawn pick, it is not yet ready), but I am not sure
they do these days. Though not connected, I can tell you that Chinese domestic
flights serve Kanji for breakfast and they are quite good!
According to Thankappan Nair’s research on Idli eating
competitions, K Ramamurthy who gobbled 34 Idlis in 15 minutes for a Delhi
competition in 1976 was the first national champion, followed by the 11-year-old
Swetha. The 6-footer Easwara Iyer, a Lok Sabha member, and a stalwart of the
Bhim club in Cochin unfortunately withdrew after eating just 5 (I can easily
beat that) in 1980, but Gopakumar and James Koshy triumphed eating 27 each. Sadly,
Prasad of Kollengode died after failing to swallow what he ate, choking on his Idlis,
though winning the local 2-minute eating contest in 2001 at Vattekad. But
Theeta Rappai, the monster eater from Trichur beats them all, he used to eat 75
in a sitting!
The story of the venerable Puttu, another favorite of mine, and
further exploration of Chinese links will follow, but then, here at home, our
stock of Idli in the fridge has been depleted, so let me digress and head to
the kitchen to convince my better half in completing a new batch for next week.
References
Indian Linguistics Vol 15, 17 (papers by PK Gode and HG
Narahari)
South Indians in Kolkata – P Thankappan Nair
A historical dictionary of Indian food (1998) – KT Achaya
Indian food: a historical companion (1994) – KT Achaya
Setting the Table - KT Achaya’s pioneering scholarship on
Indian food, Mayukh Sen Caravan
Historic Alleys - Quilon
and its trade links with China
Maddy’s Ramblings - Sir John of the Cross – The
First Malabar Envoy to Portugal and The
torn earlobe and the horse trader
Idli gate – some
details
VKN Story - Varada narrates Prathal
