One of the things that intrigues me the most when I’m exploring a culinary culture is coming across a component that is simultaneously familiar and exotic. It was one such moment of discovery when I stumbled upon dishes like Tostones and Maduro in Central American cuisine, featuring plantains.

Mistakenly referred to by many as a raw banana (which I guess, it could be), but in actuality is the cooking plantain, it is of a firmer variety and lower in sugar content than its cousin, the dessert banana.

I found that it was not only prevalent in the aforementioned cuisine, but in Caribbean, African, and Spanish as well. And of course, South Indian, which is where I come in:

Kerala, the neighbor state to Tamilnadu, is a lush tropical area where the fruit of the Musa genus prevail; and crossovers between the two states are rather common. However, it must be noted that even the plantain has its varieties, and Kerala prefers the slightly tougher, true plantain-Nayndrenkai, in Tamil (aka no direct relation to the banana), and features plantain chips, and stews (among others) predominantly in its cuisine, while Tamilnadu prefers the more tender, green banana-Vazhakkai.

(As ever, it helps to keep in mind that none of these statements are written in stone; they are just brief guidelines and the crossovers can be absolute or not at times-and isn’t that what culinary adventuring is all about?!.)

There are several dishes that come to mind when strolling along the lane of memorable Vazhakkai times in my childhood; Vazhakkai Kootu-chopped Vazhakkai in a coconut based gravy; Vazhakkai Podimas-cooked Vazhakkai crumbled and sauteed in a dry spice powder; and simple Vazhakkai Curry. Note that when I say curry, like most Tamil curries, I mean the dry ones, without any gravy.

That particular day, when I found myself with a good bunch of Vazhakkai, I was dying to rekindle my taste bud memories, so I opted for the quickest, and easiest of them all-Vazhakkai Curry. All it took was washing, peeling and cubing about 6 Vazhakkai, tempering a tsp. each of mustard, cumin, urad dal and chana dal with a few curry leaves and dried red chilies in 2 tsp. oil; tossing all of that with red chili powder, turmeric powder, cumin/coriander powders, asafoetida, and salt; and cooking with some water over a medium flame.

Vazhakkai cooks rather fast, so it is important not to let it sit too long.

Another thing to bear in mind might be rubbing some oil on your hands before handling the Vazhakkai as it releases its stringy and sappy juices and are very tough to wash off. It goes well with both rice and rotis.

It was great remembering all those times I’d enjoyed tender Vazhakkai bursting with earthy spice and flavors; I like to think I made my mum proud. Of course, successfully attempting at her mouth-watering Vazhakkai podimas the next time, with perhaps even Mor Kuzhambu as an accompaniment (geez, isn’t it lunch time already?!) will be a toughie, but that will be another post, another time.