It is a chilly winter afternoon. Your stomach is growling. You find your place on the dining table and serve yourself a large spoonful of hot steaming rice followed by a generous dollop of ghee. You carefully mash the rice with the tip of your fingers and make a well in the center of the plate. The mothership pours a ladle full of golden liquid onto your plate. You wait for it to gently coat the rice. You then proceed to scoop a bit of the runny mixture, make a dash for the potato roast bordering the plate, and hurriedly thrust it into your mouth before it escapes through the joints of your fingers. Ah! Bliss!
Rasam is the undisputed queen of South Indian cuisine. Wholesome, flavorsome, yet, reeking of humility. Unlike her vivacious, boastful cousin – the dal and tamarind-heavy sambhar, rasam prefers to shy away into the background. Rasam is not spoken about in the same breath as her North Indian counterparts like Paneer Butter Masala or Dal Makhani. It is probably not the first dish that comes to mind when asked to name a favorite. Yet, it is the one you reach out to when the tongue is sick of rich, indulgent culinary spreads.
Few things in life are as satisfying as a bowl full of rasam. It is the perfect bridge between the decadent, vegetable-filled sambhar and the non-descript, bland (maybe boring?) curd rice. A well-made rasam is the food of the Gods. Made from wholly ripe tomatoes, tamarind, and a dash of hing, the ingredient list is as humble as the dish itself. Unlike other dishes, rasam offers no camouflage to the amateur cook. You can have a good rasam or a bad one – there is no in-between.
Wars have been fought for rasam. It is the reason for the legendary Ganesha – Murugan tiff which led to Murugan seeking solace in the hills of Palani. Ultimately Parvati had to make an exceptional cauldron of rasam to satiate Murugan’s hunger pangs, after which he returned home happily. King Alexander left home at lunchtime to find the perfect rasam to pair with his steaming bowl of rice. He never succeeded. The search for the ideal rasam is what kept the Britishers in the subcontinent for 200 years. All they could muster was Mulligawtany which is a poor pepper-based variant.
There is a type of rasam for every mood. Feel like having a richer, more tomato-y version? Udupi rasam is the answer. In the mood for a nutty flavor? You have the famous Mysore rasam. Jeera-Milagu rasam, a.k.a. rasam made from cumin and peppercorns paired with some ladiesfinger palya, works wonders for that persistent cold and cough. Pineapple rasam, with cubes of pineapple soaking up the tamarind essence, is a crowd favorite at Tamil weddings. After the extravagant wedding feast, when the stomach craves unembellished nourishment, vaepam poo rasam is the go-to food. Made from sun-dried flowers of the neem tree, this bitter rasam variant is the one-stop solution for all ailments in grandma’s culinary book. Adding lemon and ginger to your bowl of rasam can transform the dish into a cracking appetizer. For the brave and the undeterred, citron or orange rasam is an exciting alternative.
Rasam demands a messy eater. It is not for the snobbish aristocrat who cannot give up his cutlery. Table manners take a backseat. Foremost, rasam is best enjoyed in a steel plate with a rim. After tackling the rice-rasam mix, the excess rasam is polished off by slurping it down noisily. Some may prefer the banana leaf, but the unseasoned diner may find it challenging to confine the free flow of rasam to the former’s leafy boundaries. Licking the fingers clean is a cue to the host that you truly enjoyed the feast.
For the fad-hopping relative who swears by a keto-friendly, gluten-free, lactose-free, vegan diet, this one ticks all the boxes. The best part is that it takes all of five minutes to whip it up. Winding down the day with a simple rasam rice calms those frayed nerves. A plateful of rice soaking in rasam can lead one back in time to savor those long-lost memories from childhood.
The vivid description of rasam, followed by all the constant typing, has undoubtedly made the author crave a hearty big bowl right away. Hopefully, you, the reader, are already reaching out to soak a ball of tamarind in hot water. Happy rasam-ing!
The Manga Pachadi 