Pothi Choru - An Antiquated Tradition

Recently I was at Kerala Kitchen Take Away at Picket, Secunderabad. When I flipped through the menu, one item that got my attention was Pothi Choru. It took me back some twenty years. The word made me bit emotional. For the beginners, pothi choru is nothing but rice wrapped in plantain leaf, and paper, often old newspaper. 


OK, for the beginners, pothi choru is nothing but rice packed in plantain leaf, and newspaper. 

I grew up watching my ammamma (paati/grannie) making the pothi choru day in and day out for my brothers, and later for me. Every morning, in the smoke-filled kitchen, fighting the smoke, my grannie patiently flips flops the tender plantain leaf freshly cut from our backyard over the fire. This helps not only to bend the leaf while packing, but also drives away an odd insect that sticks to leaf taken from the garden. Once this is over, a full sheet newspaper will be spread on winnowing basket - chulavu (in Malayalam?) or muram (in Tamil), and then the plantain leaf will be placed.

On a typical day, it will be rice (choru) (mostly lemon rice or curd rice) then aviyal, and thenga chammanthi (coconut dry chutney). Once the food items are in, the packing starts. First, from your end, the paper along with the plantain leaf has to be taken to the opposite side, then the left side comes over, and then the right side, and finally roll it over. 

This is just the beginning of journey. As the pothi moves from my paati’s hand; to our school/college bags, and finally opened at our school desks at lunch time, the packing would have done several rollovers. What the rollovers do to the pothi choru is, it evenly spreads the spiciness of chammanthi, and other ingredients. Until lunch time, the rice gets soaked in the plantain leaf, and retains the freshness, and gives a divine taste. However, there were some lows. If the plantain leaf got torn, especially days, we get curd rice, our books used to get soiled. It’s not that I loved my books so much, but the soiled books mean it diminishes the resale value the next academic year. We go back home and rant at the poor paati. Now I realise how much patience she would have had making the food and sending us to schools day in and day out! I miss her really. The Tupperware generation may never taste this experience.