For years, jasmine white idlis and crunchy dosas strutted about in kitchens down south. They swelled with pride as their fame spread—to far beyond the Vindhyas—and grinned as rustic, boisterous northerners dug into them with spoons and fork. But fame can vanish faster than you can gobble up an idli. And as they watched in horror, the mami in Chennai put away her idli, neatly tore up a roti and dipped it into a bowl of paneer butter masala. The idlis, dosas and that platter of rice sat down and sulked but they knew they had to get real—the north Indian platter had arrived.

So in Kerala, thattukadas (the equivalent of dhabas) on the state’s highways and roads serve parathas and chapatis to the Malayali late into the night. Rajma is no longer balked at, men in lungis toss rumali rotis in the air, chaat parlours make brisk business and Punjabi-style chana masala sits pretty on emerald banana leaves at Chennai wedding feasts. In Tamil Nadu, the ubiquitous Udipi hotel, the Chettinad chains, the Saravana Bhavans and even the muniyandi vilas (the traditional non-vegetarian hotels of the state) changed their menus to accommodate the tastes of the Gujarati and Marwari community only to find Tam Brahms raised on thayir sadam polishing off alu gobi and kaju paneer.

The middle-class kitchen now sees a daily battle of tastes. Walk in to the Seshadris’ home in Chennai and you’ll find the belan (rolling pin) and chakla (rolling board) sidling up to the idli-maker. At least once a day, the fluffy chapatis win in this Brahmin household. Hamsa Seshadri, who works with a private insurance company, isn’t sure she has mastered the art of making chapatis but knows her family loves them. “We switched over to chapatis not because it is healthy but because we love the taste. When my husband is not around, my mother, daughters and I can have chapatis three times a day,” she says, as she kneads the dough.

... contd.