Idli – A Delectable Dish

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.

To those who have not had the good fortune of eating Idlis, I suggest that they head to the nearest South Indian restaurant, most big cities boast one or two and order a plate (yes, they are certified Kosher, halal in NYC). They are white steamed soft and porous items, circular of course, and made of a batter of fermented rice and lentils (urad dal) mixed in an exact proportion, with some fenugreek. The type of rice and the proportions are a closely held secret in many homes, and are said to be passed on from mother to daughter or daughters-in-law! The soaked pulses are ground in a mixer (stone grinders were in vogue during my childhood days) and allowed to ferment overnight before it is steamed in a special-purpose Idli steamer, which has several racks with depressions where the batter is poured. The chutneys that go along with them are a chapter by themselves, there are so many varieties and then there is the veritable sambar which it is usually paired with. Once a South Indian breakfast staple, it has become a healthy choice in most Indian restaurants, eaten at other times as well, or always part of the breakfast buffets. In some Indian cities, one can also come across Idli corners or roadside thattukada vendors serving it at nightfall.

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 Acharya, 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 19^th or 20^th 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 20^th 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.

But the question remained- while Iddarige was a lentil dish cooked in some way, there is no mention of fermentation or steaming as well as the addition of rice as associated with Idlis. To confuse the matter further there was this oft-followed dictum which went back to the Manu Smriti – verses 5.9,5.10 which in essence stated- All soured substances except Curd are forbidden – with soured defined vaguely as - soured substances that have become sour by fermentation; and those that turn sour by the contact of flowers and roots.  Now that presents a perplexing question – was it for that reason only eaten by lower classes, thereby rarely getting a mention in Brahmanical texts? I don’t know, let’s leave it there for now. I searched around for the Huyga dabbu and such large vessels, but could not find any, readers are welcome to add or comment on this, as well as the similarity to the kadabu.

Now let us get to the works of KT Acharya, 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, Acharya 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 Acharya 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, Acharya 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 6^th-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), Knnathappam (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 12^th-century account related to Prithviraj Chauhan’s court (1149-92) mentions a Khirora steamed rice ball, making it clear that steaming was prevalent.

Acharya wonders (1994) if the Thosai mentioned in 6^th-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 5^th century Perumpanuru and that it was fermented rice batter.

But there is a potential Chinese link, and a link to the old Tamilakam Ma'abar which included the parts of today’s Kerala – Tuticorin (Kayal) and Quilon were the ancient ports where Chinese traded in the past. Quilon and Kerala have so many Chinese links and you can see significant Chinese influence – the fishing nets - Cheena Vala, chillies - Cheena Mulaku, pots -Cheena Chatti, Cheena Bharani, Cheena padakkam, and so many more. There were many other ports in the Tamilakam where the Chinese traded.

The earliest Chinese links date back to the 7^th 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 6^th 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.

My conclusion is that the old versions of Idli were perhaps closer to the flat, large steamed Ramasseri or Kancheepuram Idlis. Later versions became smaller with the development of fine Idli patrams in rich households, as we see them today. This requires further study, and I will get to it while studying appams and the puttu.

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 Acharya

Indian food: a historical companion (1994) – KT Acharya

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