An Ode to Idly
By: Hiranmayi Narayanan
Tags: Idly, Indian Food, Humour, Simple Living, Nostalgia

Firstly, it feels rather strange to be writing this on Medium as quite recently my cousin casually expressed her fondness for this platform citing her reason to be the useful writings she finds here. Well, this piece of writing can hardly be categorised as something one would find “useful”. Whether or not it even falls under Medium’s tagline “Where good ideas find you” is also debatable. However Medium does say you can write on any topic and so here I am - taking full advantage of this loophole.

My all-time favourite food is Ghee Roast Dosa with a side of Sambar and Chutney. While I could wax eloquent about the greatness of Ghee Roast Dosa, this particular note is an ode to its healthier and unpretentious cousin — the Idly, which drew some unwarranted comments from a British Professor of History for supposedly being “boring” a few months ago. Many of my fellow, Idly-lovers and food connoisseurs have expressed their utter shock and dismay at this blasphemous comment, including a famous Indian politician and former diplomat, whose idea of a retort would probably revolve around confusing an Englishman with English words and phrases of which he may have never heard. Others have even issued threats on Twitter. But being the proud South-Indian that I am, I would like to issue a passionate, clarion call. We cannot let this matter end with a few posts on Twitter. We need to defend this soft, fluffy, and vulnerable being with more than just tweets. We need this to become a topic of global dialogue, or at least receive some airtime on Indian news channels which have an on-going track-record of focusing on utterly pointless topics in any case.

To tell you the truth, I wasn’t always the greatest advocate of the humble Idly. Apart from family tales of me gladly gobbling 3 to 4 Idlies as a baby, most of my childhood was spent despising it. Growing up in the northern parts of India probably had something to do with it. You see, making the perfect Idly is nothing short of an art. Many can attempt making perfect Dosas and dream of success, but Idly — now that’s a whole different m(b)atter. You need a specific type of rice ground to perfection with the highest quality of Urad dal in the right quantities and the right amount of grinding, temperature and resting times. Get this wrong and you’ll end up with a hard, sticky mess. In the north of India, it is difficult to find the type of rice that lends Idlies its signature softness. Each time my family moved to a new town up north, well-meaning neighbourhood aunties would land up at our doorstep carrying casseroles of Idlies and “Sambhurr”. They felt we needed to be fed with something we missed the most. I was always two seconds away from begging them to bring some Aloo Parathas instead of the bizarre, oval things with an off-putting greyish tinge they seemed to call Idly. Needless to say, I developed a strong dislike towards it. Fast forward to my days at University, at the Student Hostel, twice a week I was subjected to things that masqueraded as Idlies but were hard enough to cause walls to crack if hurled with sufficient force (not that we ever tried that, though). This phase did not do Idly any favours in my eyes.

I only truly started appreciating this delicacy in my twenties, when I had the good fortune of regularly eating my mother’s version. My mother makes the kind that in Chennai is called “Mallipoo Idly” which likens it to the soft and fragrant Jasmine flower or even “Khushboo Idly”, a term which quite bafflingly is named after a particular actress. I can admit that an Idly on its own may be underwhelming. But Idlies are not meant to be had on its own. It is mostly always served with a wide array of accompaniments. Calling plain Idlies names such as “boring” is akin to saying plain, boiled pasta or even steamed meat has no flavour. It is not supposed to! These are items that need its accompaniments, gravies, seasoning and sauces to elevate it to its delicious status. Nothing in the world soaks up flavours of accompaniments like an Idly does.

So, while the Idly may be misunderstood by some, it certainly does not deserve anything less than wholehearted love and respect. I invite all my fellow food-lovers from around the world to join me in this possibly long and tedious journey of ensuring that the Idly is given the status it truly merits.