kanji - food for all seasons

'Kanji' - that's how malayalees were referred to in my college days. The correct term, these days, is 'mallu,' I'm told.

Kanji was a good term, for an appreciation of this simple food was something that malayalees - pauper or prince - had in common. (Perhaps this commonality had something to do with our acceptance of marxism.)

It's different now: most mallus these days sneer at kanji. A pity. I still find it such a wonderful food. So much more satisfying than, say, 'gobi manchurian' or chilly chicken! It's so much more suited to our climate. In the hot and humid summers, a bowl of kanji can rehydrate you like nothing else. During the monsoon months or in the crisp cold of December/January, a hot steaming bowl of kanji is an infusion of warmth before you snuggle down for a good night's sleep.

Of course, it must be cooked just right. The rice grains must be of the right softness, with the edges blurring into the opalescent water. In the steam that rises from the bowl, you must be able to smell the scent of the paddy fields and the sweat of the laborers who have toiled under the hot sun.