This ball of brown exudes nourishment as it glistens with moisture on the plate (or leaf). Paired with spicy vegetarian broths or rich and meaty sides, the earthy taste of ragi mudde has an advanced level of acquirement that falls somewhere between ceviche and balut. Perhaps what most distinguishes mudde is that it is not to be chewed. Simply swallowed.

It’s A Mudde Mood

Karnataka is a major state in South India where the Americanized Goa hysteria stops and the idlis and dosas start. Karnatakan highlands are the coffee cradle of India while a booming IT industry in the state capital, Bangalore, has been branded the Silicon Valley of India. The state’s 68 million inhabitants mainly speak the Kannada language and write in its lovely, curled script.

Home to Ashtanga yoga, world-class bouldering, and unforgettable, deep-fried banana breakfast buns, Karnataka is one of my dearest Indian states.

Long seen as a food of the poor, capitalism has recently made a nationwide superfood trend out ragi. Even Sadhguru has joined the hype. The many travelers who flock year-round to Karnataka will rave about ragi cookies, pancakes, and flatbreads for their gluten-free benefits, yet mudde remains well under the radar to foreigners and Indians alike.

Ragi mudde is a blob of dark millet that is a diet staple in southern Karnataka. ‘Ragi’ is Eleusine coracana, or the finger millet plant. ‘Mudde’ simply translates from Kannada into ‘lump.’

“Preetha looks so serious. She looks like, ragi mudde.“

—Daughters of Destiny (Ep. 3), Netflix

At a glance mudde looks more or less, well, muddy.

Foods with a quaggy consistency have always attracted me¹ and often turn into their own motifs throughout this blog (peanut butter, roasted yams, boiled pumpkin, dragonfruit, Tibetan tsampa, frozen smoothie bowls, gelato just to name a few). My Chinese DNA programs me to magnetize towards all steamed sustenance. Thus mudde was an irresistible gem from moment I accidentally read about it while browsing Google reviews of local fare.

Mudde was omnipresent yet elusive. A dirt-colored hypocrisy. There I was, enjoying the city of Mysore in February 2020. Calories were chased until my waistline bulged, but I never managed to secure a meal of mudde.

While families dined on mudde daily, villages held mudde-eating contests, and former prime minister “Son of Soil” Gowda gave major fame to the dish and installed his own mudde team to Delhi, the sparse places that offered it on their menus didn’t have it available when I popped in.

I should have been looking in the kitchens of mothers and grandmothers. Mudde is no exception to the law of the world’s best food being found the family table.

One of the first life skills that Karnatakan kids are obligated to learn from their elders is the art of pinch-roll-pop-swallow. No chewing.

Pinch refers to squeezing off a bite-sized quantity from the main mudde ball. When I probed my Karantakan friend² on why chewing is such a taboo, he could offer no reasoning. It was just a part of life.

So my calorie chasing takes a turn into the vortex of the internet.

“I would make each morsel as small as possible, put it far behind on my tongue like I was swallowing a pill, and then I would summon as much saliva as possible to lubricate the back of my throat, and swallow painfully, with some of the ragi sticking in my throat. I plain hated it, and declared war on it.”

—Ragi Mudde, nychthemeron.blogspot.com

“..according to my grandmother, the ability to swallow more than one mudde was considered the mark of a strength, and one’s capacity to eat.”

—Nutrition, rolled in a ball; The Hindu

In a quirky Quora thread, one theorizes that swallowing mudde allows for slower energy release, making it more effective for the high-intensity labor of farmers and the working class. Another speculates the cosmetic side—swallowing prevents the undesired look of dark ragi flecks stuck all over the teeth.

Native to Uganda and Ethiopia,³ finger millet arrived to the Indian subcontinent from Africa some 4,000 years ago.⁴

For perspective, rice came to India 1,000 years ago, potatoes were introduced 300 years ago, and tomatoes 100 years ago.

Ragi has always held a vital role in Indian food history for its ability to grow well and to feed many, cheaply and nutritiously.

Health benefits of ragi mudde:

steamed, one of the healthiest cooking methods that is very light on the body
high-carb, fat-free
finger millet is 11% protein
source of iron
source of calcium
high in insoluble fiber, supporting digestion
rich in thiamine, supporting red blood cell production
rich in niacin, supporting healthy skin
rich in magnesium, helping heart health
lowers insulin resistance
benefits cholesterol levels
vegan
gluten-free

 

Ten months passed since my Mysore mudde mishaps before my fingertips swiped across another opportunity (tfw ur tinder is actually obscure asian foods on g maps). En route from Delhi to Gokarna, I had a day in Bangalore.

Relevant read: Chasing Calories Gokarna.

Mudde evaded me again. The infamous butter-bomb of a benne masala dosa at CTR and Hyderbadi style biryani at Meghana Foods were given priority, and come dinnertime Mudde Madappa Mess had closed early due to shortened pandemic hours.

My heart wept.

Then came Tamil Nadu, and its accompanying day-of-transit in Bangalore. A full year from the beginning of my mudde mood, a burning curiosity is quenched at last.

Day 1,096

6 February 2021

Bangalore → Gandhi Nagar → Hotel T.A.P. Paradise → Indira Nagar → Copper + Clove → Natural Ice Cream → Hotel T.A.P. Paradise → Mudde Madappa Mess → Greenline Travels

I must be grateful that we made it safe and sound back to Bangalore.

The same unfriendly face rejects us at the budget rooms. We settle for a cozy little space for 650 rupees per 24 hours.

I swear night buses chip away at my lifespan.

My eardrums were blown out by the ancient engine. It felt like we flew. One second it’s dawn and I see there’s two hours till the city, the next second the sun is rising and we are already here, in the full blown honks of Bangalorean traffic.

During the journey my body has collected a miscellany of mosquito bites. First the bastard wouldn’t leave my feet alone, so I stuck my calves and feet in sweatpants. Next it came for the tip of my pinky finger, through a cloth. Then smack on the ass, through my pants and my lungi serving as blanket. Alas, the bottom of my chin was selected for dessert.

Z of course felt nothing.

On another note, I am trying to figure out how to listen to my body and to be able to go fooding, without stress.

ಮುದ್ದೆ ಮಾದಪ್ಪ ಮೆಸ್

Mudde Madappa Mess

“…Mudde Madappa Mess is the cheapest time-machine you can get which will transport you to the Bengaluru of the 1970s.”

—This Age-Old Mudde Madappa Mess, Metrosaga

A diabetic man is waiting for his meaty military hotel⁵ dinner sitting on the steps of the closed business. He bashes the sealed door with his cane. An angry boy comes out and chases him away. It was clear that tonight Z was not gonna see any fried livers on his banana leaf.

Z agrees to give Mission Mudde another go.

Several nice men who speak no English point us the way. We enter a garage-style lot on the ground floor amidst the maze of hotels before rounding the corner. Portraits of gurus greet us. A man is too excited to see us.

The first reaction of the staff is to inform us that this is a mudde eatery, and we might want to head our non-Karnatakan asses back out the door.

Our venue is a windowless den. The tables are fabulously simple, rotated the long way so that I sat quite distanced from Z.

A boy poofs up a heap of rice papads in frying oil. Others prep the remaining components. A manager oversees the spectacle and approaches our table, speaking to us in decent english.

Our plates are genius-ly propped up by water bottle caps. No soupy bassaaru would be floating any plate contents tonight. I had been marveling at those things, thinking they kept the salt covered from moisture. But no, their sole purpose in life is to make sure all the liquid of our meals drains harmlessly to one side of the plate.

After rinsing our plate and hands inside the plate under the supervision of all, first up is an orange-colored dal papad with a dash of chili.

Next a ladel of brothy, yellow-green bassaaru. Mung bean palya in a clump.

Then the situation climaxes. Manager brings out a single, faaaaat wad of mudde on a plate. It is piping and looks proper slimy. A couple of kilos at least.

He twists off an earnest chunk for the only other diner, the large man who was excited when he first saw us.

Manager’s twist technique speaks of expertise. His comprehensive service denotes experience. He doles us sparing mudde balls, because it’s such an acquired taste.

Every eye is on us.

Quickly, the large man (who later appeared to be the cashier) pipes up a “Madam, please follow me.”

1. Wet hand in bassaaru broth.
2. Squeeze off a bite-sized chunk of mudde.
3. Dip it in more broth.
4. Shape into a smooth blob in hand.
5. In the mouth.
6. Swallow.

*hand wave*
*head bobble*
*it’s gone*

I’ll never forget these gestures that bridged the language gap to show me the golden no chewing rule.

Hand wave, head bobble. Hand wave, head bobble. Hand wave, head bobble.

“You’ll get there,” he encourages with warmth.

The whole team is so concerned about how much we enjoy mudde. Like, so concerned.

My mouth finds mudde to be dense, lightly bitter, and a definite relative of cardboard. Yet yummy. I am undeniably a fan.

The meal is South-Indian-spicy (except the bland mudde), healthy, and super filling. Literally. My esophagus feels plugged.

On our way out, were are propped up against the wall, flanked by an oversized Kannada sign, gurus, and gods. For their camera rolls and for mine. The handsome boy taking our photos worked up the courage to tear off his mask for selfies. My mudde hero.

What. A. Mood.

 

further reading for that mudde mood

• Ragi Mudde, nychthemeron.blogspot.com
• Nutrition rolled in a ball, The Hindu
• 11 Super Health Benefits of Ragi Flour, Nachni, Finger Millets; Tarla Dalal
• This Age-Old Mudde Madappa Mess in Bengaluru Serves Unlimited Ragi Ball Meals For Less Than Rs.100, Metrosaga
• Munching muddes at 56, Ere does Gowda proud!, Deccan Chronicle
• At 81, Gowda Lives on Ragi Mudde on the Campaign Trail, The New Indian Express
• Blessed by the ‘curse of Deve Gowda’, Deccan Herald

 

1- According to Ayurvedic principles, an individual with a dominating dry and cold vata constitution tends to love mushy foods (Vasant Lad, The Complete Book of Ayurvedic Home Remedies) and I couldn’t agree more.

2- Special thanks to Pruthvi for his patience in explaining me the difference between saaru (spicy rasam, served at the end of food in a cup), bassaaru (broth made from pulses served with the mudde), and palya (the pulses separated out from the broth), as well as some Kannada etymology and defining what was on my plate almost a year after I ate it (first photo, hesaru kaalu bassaru and hesaru kaalu palya).

3- Eleusine coracana, Wikipedia.

4- Raja, Rasoi Aur Anya Kahaniyaan, Netflix.

5- Since the 50s in Karnataka, ‘hotel’ often means a mess hall serving cheap food, regardless of if it was once actually a hotel. ‘Military hotel’ has historically indicated major meat fests as the Indian armed forces were non-vegetarian.