I grew up in Chennai and Coimbatore. My father is from Palakkad. But the land I have been drawn to again and again is Tulu Nadu in Dakshina Kannada, where one can witness a deep and enduring connection between humans and nature. The Tuluvas, like our Indian ancestors, worship trees, snakes, rivers, fire, forests, etc., through deities called ‘Bhotas’ or ‘Daivas’ who represent supernatural and powerful spirits. I have visited Tulu Nadu several times, and each time I am in awe of the fertility of the place and the imagination of the people, as expressed through… Bhota Kola ritual and yakshagana Offers. The food served at such community events is lavish yet simple, flavored with cashews and coconut.
Those who do not have access to this culture can watch it online. Just type “beauty of Tulu Nadu” and you will see videos of the land, its rituals and its people. I subscribe to a Facebook page called “Jamal Tolunad.” Here I see enactments of ancient rituals and dances, where people walk over fires or surrender to possession by spirits.
The specificity of this land, its culture and its cuisine begs the question: How did this small part of Karnataka produce so much flavour?
She contacted the famous conservationist Ullas Karanth, whose first-hand knowledge of Kannada culture came from his father Shivarama Karanth, the late great Jnanapith laureate, as well as from his mother and step-mother, both from the Bhunt family. Ulas told me that it is in the geography of coastal Karnataka that one begins to understand the culture and cuisine.
The umbrella term “South India” is a misnomer, a crude device to describe a multi-layered land with diverse cuisines.
The Konkan-Canara coast, in particular, is a chaotic, but glorious, assemblage of castes, sub-castes, languages, cuisines and customs. Some overlap. Others don’t. The British, for their love of administrative organization, divided India’s southwestern coast into Travancore-Cochin, Malabar and Canara – the last of which was a colonial term for the Kannada language, which served as the administrative glue for dozens of small kingdoms.
By the 19th century, the British divided Canara into North and South, connecting North Canara with Bombay Presidency and keeping South Canara with Madras. Today, when people say they are from Mangalore, it is actually a cooked-up spelling. The reality is a beautifully chaotic intermingling of Udupi, Dakshina Kannada and the ancient Kasargod Taluk, which now belongs to Kerala.
While the Konkan region to the north (Goa and coastal Maharashtra) has its charm, the real botanical magic happens further south in Canara and Kerala, thanks to two geological phenomena – the much longer Ghats and much higher rainfall. In the words of the Scottish historian W. W. Hunter, who wrote this remarkable nine-volume tome Imperial Dictionary of IndiaThe monsoon “lashes its rain-laden clouds over the Western Ghats,” and by the time it crosses, it has “dropped the greater part of its water load” resulting in “swaths of inexhaustible fertility.”
This fertility led to the emergence of spices that the world craves, along with fruiting plants, mushrooms, tubers, and heritage rice. Access to these riches is why the food in South Canara is more extreme than anywhere else in India. This region, called Kanara, South Kanara, Dakshina Kannada, and Tulu Nadu depending on who you talk to, includes Kudla (later called Mangalore), Kundapura, Udupi, Puttur, and Kasargod. Cuisine also varies from sub-sect to sub-sect. Here is a broad classification.
Brahmin: There Shefali Brahmins (Tulu speakers) are known for their cuisine and hospitality. then quota The Brahmins, who gave us the MTR and Udupi Krishna Bhavan. Together these clans represent the gold standard of Udupi cuisine. Then there HaviacasIts unique dishes are like a secret language.
Konkani: The Chitrapur Saraswats (with family names like Karnad) are largely vegetarian, while the Goda Saraswats (the Bais and Chinois families) consider fish a “sea vegetable” but place limits on meat.
Mangaloreans: Roman Catholics who often call themselves “manji-pangis” serve a unique blend of Canara and Goan styles with pork pavt and sorpotel, served with yeasted sanna.
The Bunts, Bellavas and Mogaveeras (Hunters) all bring a fierce energy to the table. While bants along the coast have traditionally skipped pork, their cousins inland and along the Ghats are adopting it. “The pilavas have the most diverse non-vegetarian cuisine regionally, followed by the pilavas (the numerically largest group) and the mujaveras. They all have their own unique dishes and are all matrilineal. The traditional pilavas are kuri roti and gassi, kori agadina (dried chicken), and in Kundapura, koli talu, eaten with halasena kadopu,” says Aulas. Halasina Refers to jackfruit and kadubu It looks like a lettuce wrapped in a jackfruit leaf.
Sometimes the same dish is called by different names. For example, the famous dish made of curried clams and rice dumplings is called Marwai Bondi by Tulova, while by Catholic it is called Kopi Mutli.
From the Muslim Biari (whose cuisine differs slightly from the Mappila food of Kerala) to the pure vegetarian Tulu Jains, the Canara Coast, or what the locals call Karavali, is anything but monolithic. It’s a kaleidoscope. In Bengaluru, we don’t just eat ‘coastal food’ at restaurants like Sandedge and Anupam. We eat a map of the Earth, mixed with technologies adapted to migration, trade, and class taboos, all served with generous servings of coconuts.
(Shobha Narayan is an award-winning author based in Bengaluru. She is also a freelance contributor who writes about art, food, fashion and travel for a number of publications.)
