* Karnataka:  *Flavour Of The Bunt

Archana Rai: Discover the home cooking of the south Karnataka coast

It was the Class X board exams and life wasn't worth living. The last straw
was being told there would be a viva voce for Home Science. Clammy with
tension, I walk in, to hear a kindly voice ask, "So you are a Bunt from
Mangalore is it, dear? Can you tell me the recipe for a traditional steamed
Bunt dish?" I blink. 

Raised on the Anglo-Indian fare at boarding school and Mom's biriyani and
souffles on the coffee plantation back home, I had little idea of what
"being a Bunt from Mangalore" meant.  Much less an instant recipe for a
traditional Bunt dish. 

Frantic, I tried to recall mealtimes at my grandmother's home in rural Udupi
and the spicy aromas that emanated from her tiled-roof kitchen. I haltingly
offered what seemed like a recipe for Pelakayida Gatti -- jackfruit pulp
ground with coconut and rice, wrapped in teak leaves, and steamed. It must
have passed muster. The evaluator gave me 7/10 and set me on a voyage of
discovery: of my roots and, with it, the taste of ethnic Bunt food.

Photo Credit: Saibal Das

Drenched in coconut, spiced with locally grown cinnamon, cumin, oora 
munchi (red chilli) and with the tang of tamarind and onte puli (a 
native sour fruit), Bunt food is zestful fare. 

The people are an enterprising community of landowners, natives of a strip
of the Karavalli coast, once known as South Canara. Stretching from Kasargod
in Kerala to Kundapura in Karnataka, this region now consists of two
districts, Mangalore and Udupi. 

'Bunta', meaning warrior, reflects the community's historical role in the
armies of local chieftains ranging from the Aluvas and Keladis, to the Rayas
of the Vijayanagara Empire, who ruled the area before Tipu Sultan and the
British.

Children from wealthy Bunt families moved to Madras or Bombay to study
engineering or medicine before South Canara itself emerged as an educational
hub. Many of these doctors and engineers migrated westwards (the Bunt
Diaspora now accounts for over a quarter of the community).  

Land reforms in the 1970s saw many families lose significant portions of
their ancestral holdings. Bereft of regular incomes, youngsters turned to
careers in banking -- in the then community-owned Vijaya Bank. Still others
leveraged a centuries-old culinary tradition by setting up eateries in the
bright lights of Bombay.

The years of hoteliering by these migrant Bunts are what has led to the
popular perception that Bunt food consists of just a handful of dishes. 
Neerdosa (paper-thin rice dosas) and Kori Rotti (roasted rice rotis) are de
rigueur at restaurants serving coastal cuisine, and so are widely believed
to represent the food of a community. Nothing could be further from the
truth, as I discovered when I hit the food trail in the place where it is
best sampled: traditional Bunt homes.

Photo Credit: Prashant Panjiar

The flow of the seasons and the festivals that accompany them direct the
eating habits of the Bunts. This devout community suppresses its natural
carnivorous desires when religious festivals come along. Locals attribute
this to the strong Brahminical influence in the region, which datesback to
when Adi Shankara set up the Sharada temple at Kollur.  Later, Madhavacharya
founded the Dvaita branch of Hindu theology and set up the ashta mathas that
surround the Sri Krishna Temple in Udupi city.

February means Shivarathri, when night-long Harikathas and skits by costumed
dancers end with a meal of Semige Per (steamed rice vermicelli soaked in
cardamom-flavoured coconut milk). The forced vegetarianism is made up for on
the days that follow with fish curries -- the staple diet in Bunt homes:
sardines and mackerels for everyday eating; surmai, pomfret, prawns or kanne
on special occasions. Fried, tossed in chilli and tamarind gravies, or
slow-cooked in masalas of carom seed, red chilli, ginger, pepper, coriander
and cumin -- fish curries, Bunt-style, have very little coconut in them.

As the temperature rises, the luscious mango (kukku) season begins. It's
time for Kukku Saseme: coconut ground with mustard ladled onto mango pulp
and seasoned with bay leaf. And the dish that Bunt foodies are known to give
up more fleshly delights for: Kukku Mensakai (ripe mango pulp with a hint of
sour spiced with jaggery, mustard, chilli, bay leaf and seasoned with
sesame). In the courtyards, mango pulp is spread out on reed mats; a new
layer is added every day, and is finally rolled into long rolls called
Mambala, a snack for the monsoons.

The humongous jackfruit is cooked when still raw; Gujje Aajadhina is the
vegetarian version of the chicken curry spiced with fenugreek and coconut
gratings. And the ripe jackfruit dish, which saved me those blushes decades
ago -- the delicate, pink-hued gatti is eaten dipped in honey or, better, in
the fenugreek-flavoured richness of country chicken cooked with coconut. The
latter dish, Kori Aajadhina, is a Bunt classic that makes for a lip-smacking
treat when combined with Neerdosa. Raw cashew is mixed with gherkins to make
a dry vegetable dish that is a must for Ugadi, the Kannada New Year

Summer is when Bunts across the globe head homeward, cursing the heat but
enslaved to its food. It is the time for weddings, and the worship of family
spirits. As the rivers dry out, fishermen collect clams on the banks.
Steamed rice dumplings are dipped into a clam curry cooked in a masala of
coconut, mustard, fenugreek, coriander, cumin and chillies to make Marvai
Pundi. This is just the starter in the homecoming treat.

Photo Credit: Prashant Panjiar

For the main course there is a fiery mackerel curry, giant crab masala, dry
prawn in coconut and tamarind, and the piece de resistance of Bunt cuisine,
the Kanne Fry. Long slivers of ladyfish are marinated in red chilli,
turmeric, cumin, coriander, fenugreek and tamarind -- the exact proportions
of this spice mixture are handed down as family secrets.  Dusted with rice
flour, the fish is fried with fresh coconut oil.  Retreating to the
verandahs that front their sprawling tiled-roof homes, men lounge on easy
chairs, quaffing Kali, a fresh, milky-white drink which comes from the sap
of the baine tree. Sharp-eyed wives save a portion to mix with their idli
batter, turning out perfect fluffy idlis the next morning, called Sannas on
the coast.

As the rains pour down and the extended families disperse, women bring out
the stocked goodies. Salted shark chutney spices up a meal of rice ganji.
Pickled prawns and dry prawn chutneys, roasted jackfruit papads, salted
mango chutney and Mangalore cucumbers cooked in a chilli sauce, are typical
monsoon foods. This is the time when farmhouse kitchens are busiest: the
cooking must cater for the large number of tenants and migrant labour who
come in to plant the paddy seedlings.

In the festival season, the first crop of paddy is harvested and brought
into homes to be worshipped. Aritha Payasa is cooked in coconut milk into
which five kernels of tender paddy shoot are added. The spice for the meal
comes from Pathrode, a batter of rice, chilli, coconut, coriander, cumin and
tamarind which is poured in layers onto yam leaves, tied up and steamed.

Krishnashtami is marked by a night of fasting. For breakfast the next day, a
rice-and-urad dal batter is poured into cups made from jackfruit leaves to
make Gundas, or steamed in cups made from the reeds of the Mundevu plant
into Moodes. Sweet and sour Bajeel (a puffed rice dish) is a staple in most
Bunt homes, flavoured with tamarind, sesame and a hint of jaggery, red
chilli and salt. This is a favourite offering to the elephant god, when
mixed with cardamom and mashed ripe bananas.

The heavy coastal rains begin to recede at the end of August and fishermen
return to the high seas. It is time for fresh fish again.  Prawns marinated
in puli and uppu munchi (a red chilli masala) are deep-fried, tossed with
coconut and onions, or simmered in a coconut gravy. Those giant crabs that
survive the thriving fish export industry find their way onto lunch
platters.

As the fields lie fallow after the first harvest, an odd assortment of
vegetables is grown^ -- mostly cucumber, brinjal and lentils. Tea time is
replete with steamed vegetable sweets like Gendada Adde: onions are fried in
ghee, and a batter of rice, coconut and jaggery is tossed onto the fried
onions and covered with turmeric leaves. The dish is laid on a bed of coals
and the urli topped with a plate of burning coals. I walk into my
grandmother's kitchen just as she lifts the lid off the dish, an hour later.
The taste of the prawns at lunch still lingers on the palate, as I breathe
in the leafy aroma of the coal-baked dish as it wafts up to the wooden
rafters. It is a melange of smells and flavours that will forever mark for
me my ethnic identity.

As Deepavali approaches, it's time to make Manjoldairetha Gatti. A dough of
ground rice is spread on leaves of the turmeric plant, on top of which is
sprinkled jaggery, cardamom, coconut and black sesame. The folded leaves are
then steamed to make the sweet. The vegetarian fast for Deepavali is broken
on Bali Padyami day, when Bunt homes fill up with the aromas of chicken
gravy in rich coconut milk, dosas and fish curry.

To a people who live off the produce of the sea and what their own farms
provide by way of poultry and vegetables, meat is a rarity.  Except when men
on shikar hunt down the wild boar that stray onto their fields. Then the
meat is cleaned, cut and marinated in puli manjolu (a chilli, tamarind and
turmeric masala) and shared with the neighbours. Or transported to homesick
children far away from the steaming fragrance of Bunt food.

*USEFUL FACTS *

* *The most striking quality of Bunt cooking has to be the sheer amount of
grinding that it involves. Practically everything is freshly ground with
copious quantities of coconut -- grated or strained to yield rich creamy
coconut milk. The cereals and dals are soaked and ground before being
steamed into semige (rice vermicelli), moode, sannas, appams or neerdosas.
Fish and free-range or country chicken are diced and cooked in a mixture of
freshly ground masala and coconut that is invariably the base for all
curries, whether sukka (dry) or gravy.  It's the mix of flavourings,
tamarind or kokum, chilli or pepper that gives each dish its own tang. Eat
this distinctive cuisine where it is cooked best, in the coastal region of
southwest Karnataka.

*In Mangalore

**Anupama*, Hotel Abhiman Residency, opp. Bunts Hostel. Known for 
their trademark Kanne Fry. Meal for four: Rs 400
*Hotel Palke*, Taj Towers, 1st Floor, opp. Jyoti Talkies, Balmatta. 
Opt for their fish curry rice thali, fresh off the boats. Meal for 
four: Rs 600

*In Udupi
**Hotel Sriram Residency*, Sriram Arcade, opp. Head Post Office. Fresh 
seasonal fish. Meal for four: Rs 300
*Hotel Udupi Residency*, adjacent to the City Telephone Exchange. Fish 
curry and rice thali. Meal for four: Rs 400

*In Bangalore
*The taste of the coast does travel well, as two of Bangalore's 
specialty restaurants show. Sample Bunt food at
*Kudla*, Hotel Ramanashree, 16 Raja Ram Mohan Roy Road. Try the Moode 
and Marvai Sukka combination, a Bunt delicacy. Meal for two: Rs 320
*Karavalli*, Taj Gateway Hotel, Residency Road. A mix of coastal 
cuisine, look out for Mangalore Chicken Curry. Meal for two: Rs 400

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