At bustling Kasimedu market, fisherfolk make spongy atlappam
, following a recipe that’s been in their families for decades
“It’s like pizza, but a sweet version,” says K Menaka,
covering her eyes with her sari’s pallu as smoke puffs up from her
makeshift oven. It’s 7 am and the Sunday morning madness at Kasimedu fish
market is at its peak.
Menaka sells atlappam by the road that leads to
the New Market. A small crowd has formed around the stall she has put together
out of dried coconut fronds. It’s an unusual sight, even for Kasimedu’s
standards, what with its mammoth stingray and dramatic fish sashaying past on
loaded tricycles.
Menaka has set up three ovens — each comprises two earthen
cooking pots stacked one atop the other on a wood-fired stove. One pot, that
holds a palm-sized plate filled with batter, is placed on the stove; another
pot with hot coals is on top of it. Menaka lifts a pot with the coals to check
if theatlappamis done. It is; she lifts the plate with the dish — it has risen
nicely — and slides it on to a makeshift table inside the stall using a
spatula. She slices it into quarters and hands it to us on a newspaper.
The sunshine yellow atlappam is soft and fragrant;
it’s mildly sweet with a crunchy crust. Priced at Rs. 40, one piece is filling
enough to be made into a meal by itself.
“It is a Kasimedu speciality,” says S Nayagam, Menaka’s
mother-in-law. She is seated on a low plastic stool nearby, ladling batter into
the plates while Menaka does the baking.
Born and raised in North Chennai, Nayagam says that the dish
is a regular at fisherfolk households in the area. “My grandmother taught me
the recipe,” she recalls, sprinkling coconut slivers, cashews, and raisins on
the ladled batter. “It consists of 12 ingredients — ground rice, rava ,
fried and ground gram dal , egg, ghee, oil, fennel seeds, cardamom,
sugar, and vanaspati , and coconut and dried fruit to be sprinkled on
top.”
Nayagam makes the batter at home; she adds the egg and
toppings just before the dish is baked. “I’ve been making this for 24 years,”
she adds.Atlappamcan be had at any time of the day. “But it is not an everyday
thing at home,” explains Nayagam. “We have to set up the oven and it has to be
done outdoors because of the smoke.”
As the morning wears on, and more people stop by for a bite;
Nayagam adds that there are two other people selling it in Kasimedu. “We sell
only on Wednesdays and Sundays when there’s a good crowd,” she adds.
We walk on, munching on the spongy treat, merging with the
crowd and the multitude of fish, we make a careful note of her location — the
next time we want atlappam , we will have to come to Kasimedu — it’s
not available anywhere else in the city.
