How an ancient Indian art utilizes mathematics, mythology, and rice

Computer scientists have studied these “pictorial prayers.”

BEFORE THE FIRST RAYS OF sunlight stream across the rice fields and mud roads in the Nilgiri Mountains, before they force their way through the high-rises in the urban jungle of Chennai and Madurai, the women of Tamil Nadu are up for the day. In the dark, they clean the threshold to their home, and, following a centuries-long tradition, painstakingly draw beautiful, ritualistic designs called kōlam, using rice flour.

Kōlam festivals are one of the few remaining opportunities to showcase this slowly fading tradition. PADDY PHOTOGRAPHY/GETTY IMAGES

Taking a clump of rice flour in a bowl (or a coconut shell), the kōlam artist steps onto her freshly washed canvas: the ground at the entrance of her house, or any patch of floor marking an entrypoint. Working swiftly, she takes pinches of rice flour and draws geometric patterns: curved lines, labyrinthine loops around red or white dots, hexagonal fractals, or floral patterns resembling the lotus, a symbol of the goddess of prosperity, Lakshmi, for whom the kōlam is drawn as a prayer in illustration. The making of the kōlam itself is a performance of supplication. The artist folds her body in half, bending at the waist, stooping to the ground as she fills out her patterns. Many kōlam artists see the kōlam as an offering to the earth goddess, Bhūdevi, as well.

But the kōlam is not just a prayer; it is also a metaphor for coexistence with nature. In her 2018 book, Feeding a Thousand Souls: Women, Ritual and Ecology in India, an Exploration of the Kōlam, Vijaya Nagarajan, a professor in the Department of Theology and Religious Studies at the University of San Francisco, refers to the belief in Hindu mythology that Hindus have a “karmic obligation” to “feed a thousand souls,” or offer food to those that live among us. By providing a meal of rice flour to bugs, ants, birds, and insects, she writes, the Hindu householder begins the day with “a ritual of generosity,” with a dual offering to divinity and to nature.

Colorful kōlams, such as this one by Godavari Krishnamurthy, are drawn during festivals. R. KRISHNAMURTHY/COURTESY OF KAVERI PURANDHAR

The word kōlam means beauty. What it also embodies is a perfect symmetry of straight or curved lines built around or through a grid of dots. Nearly always, the grid of dots comes first, requiring spatial precision to achieve symmetry. The dot in Hindu philosophy represents the point at which creation begins—it is a symbol of the cosmos. No tools other than the maker’s deft fingers, and the rice flour, are used. Sometimes the designs are one continuous line that loops over itself, snaking to infinity. Intersecting into infinite figure eights, in a style known as pulli kōlam, the kōlam is also believed to be a representation of infinity, of the infinite cycle of birth and rebirth that forms a foundational concept in Hindu mythology.

Mathematicians and computer scientists have keenly studied the kōlam. The kōlam is “an unusual example of the expression of mathematical ideas in a cultural setting,” writes Marcia Ascher, a professor emerita of Mathematics at Ithaca College. Citing her ethnomathematical research (a field of study combining anthropology and mathematics), Nagarajan adds that “The kōlam is one of the few embedded indigenous traditions that have contributed to the western mathematical tradition.”

While the kōlam-makers themselves may not be thinking in terms of mathematical theorems, many kōlam designs have a recursive nature—they start out small, but can be built out by continuing to enlarge the same subpattern, creating a complex overall design. This has fascinated mathematicians, because the patterns elucidate fundamental mathematical principles. Nagarajan writes about how the symmetry of kōlam art, such as the recurring fractals in the design, have been likened to mathematical models such as the Sierpinski triangle, a fractal of recursive equilateral triangles.

Women have been teaching each other these traditional designs for centuries. MCKAY SAVAGE/CC BY 2.0

Computer scientists have also used kōlams to teach computers language fundamentals. Kōlam designs can be studied as a picture language. Quoting Ascher, Nagarajan notes that “akin to natural languages and computer languages, picture languages are made up of restricted sets of basic units and specific, formal rules for putting the units together.” Teaching the computer to draw kōlams gave computer scientists insight into how picture languages function, which they then used to create new languages. “It’s actually helping computer scientists understand something elemental about their own work,” said Nagarajan, in a presentation on the geometry of kōlam.

Despite the deep mathematical principles exhibited in kōlam designs, practitioners describe the process as intuitive and enjoyable. “It’s easy, especially once you start with a proper grid of dots,” says Godavari Krishnamurthy, who lives in Chennai and has been making kōlams for more than half a century. Krishnamurthy speaks to me over the phone as her daughter-in-law, Kaveri Purandhar, who lives in Ahmedabad, translates.

Today, the tradition of making kōlam is wrestling with time, short attention spans, and porch-less apartment living. It is grappling with changing affiliations to divinity, and changing displays of community among women. Kōlam competitions during festivals are now one of the few opportunities to showcase this artistic ritual. Although fewer Tamils are making the kōlam today, the competitions allow for more inclusivity, welcoming all who are interested to participate in this traditionally Hindu ritual.

The placement of the dots determines the perfect symmetry of the kōlam. R. KRISHNAMURTHY/COURTESY OF KAVERI PURANDHAR

During the festival month of Margazhi on the Tamil calendar, which falls between December and January, Krishnamurthy takes to the street in front of her Chennai home, drawing elaborate kōlams on the main thoroughfare, defiantly taking up the road and stooping low for hours. There is almost an urgency to her work, her need to preserve a disappearing tradition, even as passing cars cover her in the dust of a city pulsating with modernity, with little space for such painstaking, back-breaking pursuits. “It’s a great exercise in concentration,” she says, via Purandhar, “and good for health and for nurturing one’s creativity.”

Krishnamurthy learned from her mother, and mothers have been teaching daughters for centuries. “The kōlam is a powerful vehicle for Tamil women’s self-expression, a central metaphor and symbol for creativity,” writes Nagarajan. “It evokes an entire way of being in the world; it articulates desires, concerns, sensibilities, and suffering, and ultimately it affirms the power of women’s blessings to create a desired reality: a healthy, happy household.” Although some men make kōlams, it is historically the domain of women.

Krishnamurthy’s immediate family offers wholehearted support, but little inclination to participate. She gives copies of her designs to anyone who shows interest. Little design books for kōlam have been around since at least 1884, writes Nagarajan. Skilled kōlam makers will maintain a ledger of their own designs that becomes a family heirloom.

Kōlam designs reflect mathematical principles, such as fractals. R. KRISHNAMURTHY/COURTESY OF KAVERI PURANDHAR

Kōlam is meant to be ephemeral: the rice flour pattern gradually fades as day turns to dusk, trodden upon by visitors, family members, the odd bicycle, mailman, or stray animals. Holes appear in the design from tiny ants or nibbling bugs. 

But as the ritual of making kōlam itself is fading away, perhaps as a counter to this loss, more and more kōlam makers are turning to powders and acrylic paints that will hold the design for longer. The traditional kōlam continues to be made with rice flour and kavi, red ochre considered sacred. This is the kōlam drawn within the temple sanctum sanctorum, for the eyes of the gods, says Purandhar. But the elaborate kōlam displays entered in competitions and drawn on the streets of Tamil Nadu during the Pongal festival use a variety of colored powders, to the consternation of traditionalists who rue that kōlam is becoming more like the rangoli of North India—similar floor art made with colored rice flour, stone powders, or flower petals that follows a different set of design principles. (Ritual designs, made with colored rice flour or flower petals, are offered to gods all over India. The ālpanā in West Bengal, jhoti or chita in Odisha, muggulu in Andhra Pradesh, and aripanā in Bihar are only some of the design traditions that liven up thresholds across the country.*)

Tomorrow, while Chennai sleeps the tired slumber of a fast-paced, tech-driven life, Mrs. Krishnamurthy will rise before dawn, clean a patch of verandah in her home, and begin illustrating her obeisance to nature, and to the divine mothers that inspire a lifelong devotion to this ritualistic art. “It’s easy,” she says, again.

(Source: Gastro Obscura)

Komal Saul: The ‘instant’ rice from Assam that needs no cooking

An indigenous variety from Assam that cooks on its own, Komal Saul is quickly emerging as a quirky and sustainable alternative to regular rice.

A rice that cooks on its own? Yes, it exists. Komal Saul, an indigenous variety from Assam, is quickly emerging as a quirky and sustainable alternative to conventional rice at a time when energy conservation is becoming a priority everywhere.

This food grain (whose name translates to ‘rice that is soft’) has gained a reputation as a “magic” rice as it need not be cooked the conventional way.

All one needs to do is soak the grains in some warm water for about 10-15 minutes (or in cold water for about 30 mins) and it’s done!

Komal Saul

Komal Saul is made by manually processing Bora Saul, a variety of sticky rice grown widely in Majuli — the world’s largest deltaic island located amidst the ever-shifting sandbanks of the river Brahmaputra in Assam. The transformation into ‘instant’ rice happens after the harvested rice is soaked overnight, boiled and then sun-dried, all within twenty-four hours.

One of the most underrated products of Assam, it has been traditionally consumed only by local communities. They prepare it by soaking it in hot water overnight and eat it the next day with either mustard oil and onions or potato mash and pickles

This subtly flavoured rice is also blended with curd/cream, jaggery and banana powder to create a breakfast favourite and popular sweet treat known as Jolpaan that is served on festive and auspicious days.

Mixing this with other indigenous cereals such as xandoh (ground rice), chire (flattened rice), muri (puffed rice) and Bora Saul results in another much-loved combination.

Jolpaan

As for this short-grain variant’s unique softness, it is a result of its low content of amylose, a starch component that contributes to the hardness of food grains. Compared to the usual 20-25% in most of the regular rice varieties, it contains just 4-5% amylose.

This also makes Komal Saul easily digestible, which is why this fragrant and fluffy rice is light on the stomach. It also makes a versatile ingredient, as it doesn’t have a distinctive flavour of its own and it takes on the flavour of other, stronger-flavoured additions to the dish.

Interestingly, scientists at the Cuttack-based Central Rice Research Institute (CRRI) have successfully grown Agonibora — a cousin of Komal Saul —in Orissa in an experiment to see if the rice can be cultivated outside Assam.

Research has revealed that, since there is no spectacularly unique feature about Komal Saul’s growing conditions, it can most probably be grown in parts of Andhra Pradesh, Bihar and West Bengal where the agro-climatic zones are similar to those in Assam.

Paddy fields in Majuli

Furthermore, Guwahati-based Green Cover Overseas (an export and trading firm that deals in local spices, herbs and minor forest produce) is already working towards creating instant rice cups (similar to cup noodles) where all one needs to do is add hot water. Made using Komal Saul, this quick-fix product will have flavours such as pulao and vegetable rice.

A unique representative of India’s indigenous rice diversity, Komal Saul can help in significantly reducing energy consumption among rice-eaters. This is important because there’s no denying the fact that India loves its rice and that it is the staple food of a large chunk of its population.

Also, among the extremely marginalised rural poor (who use plant biomass to cook food) Komal Saul can not only reduce expenses and drudgery, it can also cut down on their exposure to harmful smoke.

However, it must not be forgotten that since this ‘instant’ rice needs water to cook on its own, availability of safe drinking water in these households is a must to avoid contamination. Only then can this idea reap its true potential!

(Source: The Better India)

The various strata of Japanese fridges and other concerns

A frequently overlooked aspect of kitchens in general is the importance of storage. In fact, most of the space in a kitchen is given over to the storage of utensils and equipment as well as the food itself.

Japanese kitchens have some unique features in this respect that include cutting-edge technology, tried-and-true tradition and everything in between.

The dominant piece of equipment in most kitchens is, of course, the refrigerator. Basic refrigerator-freezers in Japan are just like those anywhere else — two doors, with the refrigerator portion in the bottom and the freezer portion at the top, although this is occasionally reversed.

When it comes to mid- and high-end family-size refrigerators, however, interesting features not found elsewhere start to make appearances. One notable trait is several independent storage compartments, like a large wardrobe with drawers, as opposed to the typical American-style two-door unit. The advantage of this compartmentalized style is that it’s possible to set the temperature in each area separately according to what is stored in it.

Tradition meets style: This wooden barrel let's rice breathe while protecting it from insects and rodents. | MAKIKO ITOH

First there’s the regular refrigerator area, which usually has doors, and an interior temperature setting of 3 to 5 degrees Celsius. The biggest drawer compartment is usually the freezer, which is typically placed at the bottom of the unit rather than the top. The interior temperature of the freezer is around minus 18 to minus 20 C, and it’s used, as are freezers everywhere, to store food that needs to kept for some time.

The next-biggest drawer is typically the vegetable compartment. This has an interior temperature setting of 5 to 10 C, higher than the refrigerator area, which is considered more optimal for most types of vegetables.

The last and smallest drawer (besides the ice drawer, which is also separate in many refrigerators) is called the “chilled” compartment, where the interior temperature is around zero C. This is used to store fish, meat and other items that you don’t want to freeze solid, but that should be kept quite cold until it’s time to use them. This last compartment is very useful in a country where raw fish is eaten by many on a weekly basis.

Most mid-range refrigerators these days have these compartments. Truly high-end ones add extra features like vacuum-sealed vegetable and “chilled” compartments for even better freshness, menu planning features and more.

Rice is still the main staple of most Japanese homes, and storing it is a bit of an issue. Not only does a 5- to 10-kilogram bag of rice take up a lot of space, but it’s important to keep it fresh to achieve the best taste, not to mention keep any critters out. Many people these days keep the rice in a large plastic rice bin with a sliding lid or a dispensing mechanism. There are more traditional (and aesthetically pleasing) storage options too, such as the large wooden barrel-shaped rice bin shown above, which allows the rice to “breathe” but still protects it.

Brown rice, meanwhile, is best stored well-sealed in the refrigerator, since the oil in the bran can go rancid. (I pour it into empty 2-liter PET bottles using a funnel.)

And last but not least, in any Japanese kitchen it’s important to make storage units as resistant to earthquakes as possible. Cabinets should be secured to the walls and have doors that won’t swing open easily when there are tremors. Heavy items should always be stored at eye level. Most kitchens used to have an under-floor storage area in the kitchen for heavy items like bottles of sake and cans of soy sauce, and it was also a few degrees cooler than the house proper. Sadly, this kind of storage seems to have gone out of style, although I think it’s one that should be revived.

(Source: JT)

How a CA and lecturer duo are transforming this Karnataka village by helping farmers

What started as a family’s aspiration towards a rustic homestead has gradually evolved into a community farming initiative in a village near Bengaluru.

Nine years ago, there lived a happy family in the heart of Bangalore, as Bengaluru was then called. Well paid jobs and a luxurious life, they had everything that seemingly defined happiness in contemporary times. So what made this family move to a village and take up farming, leaving behind their urban life?

This story is of Vishalakshi Padmanabhan and Prof Kishore Kumar, and their two children. In 2008 Vishalakshi, a chartered accountant was working at a corporate company, earning ₹20 lakh per annum. Kishore taught Kannada literature in the city’s Sharada College. They had two sons and a seemingly perfect life.

However, the couple never wanted to raise their children in the mechanical life of a city. They did not want the boys to be a part of mainstream education, which according to them is information-based rather than skill-based. They wanted them to lead their childhood in fresh air and learn from the nature.

This was the sole reason for them to leave their jobs and settle in a village, that fringes the Bannerghatta National Park.

Living in urban areas all her life, Vishalakshi admits her intrinsic connection to the city. Hence, they chose to move to a village, with only 14 families, just 30 km from Bengaluru.

In Kariappana Doddi village, the couple bought 1.5-acre land. They built a house and set up a small farm to grow food for the family. However soon they faced the reality of being agriculturists.

Challenges abounded, from drought to community hurdles and the frequent elephant raids from Bannerghatta. For three years the couple struggled before realising that they need to learn more. Thus, they began to travel around India, meeting farmers from every possible state.

Their travels showed them that the lack of collective and shared knowledge was one of the farming community’s biggest obstacles.

“They did not have the privilege of connecting and sharing knowledge with other farmers. Hence they adopted everything which reached them through the little exposure they had to the traditional farming methods. They were blindly using the seeds and fertiliser available in the nearest agricultural office and following the methods used by every other farmer near them,” said Vishalakshi.

Vishalakshi and Kishore not only invested in such learning but also passed it on to farmers in their village. Being outsiders, from urban areas no less, made it difficult for them to gel with the villagers initially but the couple kept helping the villagers and gradually gained their trust.

“We cannot match the expertise of the farmers who are doing this since generations. We will always be behind them in experience, however what they are lacking is sharing of knowledge and we can help them in that,” says Vishalakshi.

The village had been drought-ridden for years, which limited farmers to cultivating only a few vegetables. To solve the water woes, the family motivated villagers to share water from the common pond and also helped to set up a bore well for every family in the village.

With time, the couple invested in more land and made a huge storage unit in their farm. This storage pace was opened to all villagers for free.

Now, they could now grow seasonal vegetables with minimum water and store them for the entire year.

The next step was marketing of the produce. Following Vishalakshi and Kishore, many villagers started organic farming but they needed a market to sell this produce, minus middlemen.

Thus Vishalakshi founded Buffalo Back, an organic farming collective that would benefit all stakeholders involved—farmers, consumers and the environment.

“With the rural community ready to grow and process food in the safest possible way, all that we needed was a market which was open enough to understand the nuances of agriculture and its dependence on resources most of which are consumed (at times abused)  by all of us. To fill the gap in the market we moved into a collective mode to bring together budding entrepreneurs, volunteers, experts, students, artists, story tellers etc to work together on nurturing a sense of  conscious consumption, more specifically in the urbanites,” says Vishalakshi.

They also set up a small traditional processing unit where hand mills were used to grind and process the grains, employing the village women. The mill was a boon, as these women could work in the village and no longer had to travel to work in city factories as labourers.

Vishalakshi and Kishore also helped the women sell these processed products by setting up stores in Bengaluru. The best part? The couple does not charge the farmers anything for these initiatives.

Vishalakshi realised the need to introduce forgotten varieties of grains and millets to both farmers and consumers. With a project called Roots to Grain, she made consumers aware about ancient foods.

Recently Buffalo Back’s customers were introduced to a variety of native rice varieties, which they call as ‘Folk rice’.

Clockwise from top left : puffed rice variety 1, Jasmine rice, Kala bhath rice, Kala Nunia rice,
puffed rice variety 2, popped rice

These ancient varieties are known to have characteristics like drought tolerance, flood (even submergence) tolerance and salt water tolerance. In a nutshell, these are extremely climate resilient crops with an added dose of fragrance. The three varieties introduced were kala bhath (Black Rice), jasmine rice and kala nunia.

There are wheat varieties on offer too, like khapli (emmer), kathiya and the recently-acquired pygambari wheat, a sugar-free variety whose roots draw back to the Indus Valley Civilisation. The duo have consistently used feedback, from farmers and consumers, to introduce new organic products, including floral drinks made from the roselle flower (hibiscus sabdariffa) and even organic Holi colours.

Vishalakshi and Kishore have also indulged their love for fruit trees, planting around 150 saplings of fruits in their farm.

They also keep planted fruit trees at the periphery of the village to keep elephant raids at bay. They are also researching techniques to keep the elephants away from the farm, of the major concerns for all farmers in the village.

As for their children, the boys go to an alternative school and are taught at home too. The family leads their days in happiness and contentment just like they had wished.

You can meet Vishalakshi and Kishore, and buy their lovely products at the stores located at Jayanagar, Yelahanka and JP Nagar in Bengaluru.

(Source: The Better India)

This woman’s preserved 30 indigenous rice varieties

Rice emerged in India 14,000 years ago and with a single variety. Farmers experimented and amplified the genetic diversity and in the course of the last 10,000 years, there emerged 1,10,000 varieties of rice of which only 6,000 now survive. The diversity was lost after the introduction of the green revolution in 1970 with its emphasis on mono culture and hybrid crops.

For Sheela Balaji, chairperson and Managing Trustee of NGO AIM For Seva, this variety was something she wanted to bring back. So she not only grew these lost gems but also made sure that people could taste them and encourage farmers to grow them once again.

While working in Manjakkudi, a village in the Cauvery Delta region in Tiruvarur district of Tamil Nadu, Sheela would always find herself surrounded by paddy fields. Around that time, she happened to see a farmer spraying pesticide on the crops ruthlessly. She could see the farmer getting exposed to the dangerous pesticide too and tried to explain to him the health hazards. However, the farmer explained her that the rice he grew was a hybrid variety and could not be harvested without the use of chemicals.

This was an eye-opener for Sheela, and she was hell-bent on looking for a solution to the farmers’ concerns. During her many farm visits, Sheela started to learn about the diversity of rice that India once had. She also researched the different nutrients and medicinal values that these rice varieties contained. Being indigenous, these varieties grew well in Indian soil and climatic conditions without any chemical input. She then decided to grow only indigenous varieties in the 40 acres of land that belonged to the NGO.

Sheela also came across a festival of grains called Nel Thiruvizha being organised in one of the villages called Adirangam and started conducting this festival in Manjakkudi in 2013.Through this festival, Sheela met more than 500 farmers each year who helped her get the seeds for the indigenous varieties of rice.

She started with just four varieties of rice and within four years, she has preserved nearly 30 varieties.

“I was sure about one thing right from the beginning, that no chemicals will be used in our farm. We have 43 cows, which are organically fed, and their dung and urine was enough to make excellent manure for the entire 40 acres. The first variety that we grew was Mapillai Champa. The rice is very good to keep our body in balance and is an excellent energy booster,” informs Sheela.

After the first festival, more farmers came to know about the success of AIM for Seva’s farm and joined them in the next year’s festival. This year, Sheela took the opportunity to spread awareness among these farmers about the benefits of growing indigenous varieties organically. Many farmers were convinced by these sessions and took up organic farming of indigenous varieties.

“Nearly six farmers converted to organic after the second festival and now I know 9 of them who grow these varieties organically. I know it is just a small drop in the ocean. But then sometimes these drops fill an ocean. It is so satisfactory to see them change,” says Sheela.

However, even after knowing the health benefits and medicinal value of the rice varieties, farmers started growing these varieties only for their consumption and not for selling as there was no demand.

“After the second harvest we were left with so much grain that I started asking people if they want to buy it. But people were used to eating white rice. They did not even know the taste or aroma of these varieties. I understood that just growing them cannot save them forever. Best way to save them is to make people consume them. We need to popularise these varieties. Every individual can do it. Know your indigenous varieties and demand for it. When people will demand, automatically traders will ask the farmers to grow them,” Sheela says.

This idea gave birth to a store, Spirit Of The Earth in the Mylapore area of Chennai. Spirit Of The Earth stocks these varieties of rice for now – Kaatuyaanam, Kalajeera, Karuppu Kauvuni, Kichili Champa, Iluppai Poo Champa, Mapillai Champa, and Thooyamalli.

In a view to retain the essential nutrient value in all varieties of rice, all grains are hand-pounded and semi-polished to retain the husk, which would enhance richness and provide nutrients to the body.

The rice packaging has a line drawn map of Manjakkudi and a paddy stalk on the side, and the sticker has printed details (like rice variety name and if single or double par-boiled). Cooking instructions and health benefits are available in a brochure called Grains of Goodness. There are also trained staff at the store who guide visitors on how they can use the produce.

According to Sheela each of these rice varieties has different medicinal and health values. Some of them are as follows –

Kaatuyaanam-

This rice variety is light red in colour. It is mainly cultivated in Tamil Nadu and grows upto over seven feet tall. It has the ability to hide an elephant; hence the crop was given this name. (‘Kaatu’ means forest and ‘Yaanam’ means elephant). The rice is said to keep diabetes and arthritis under control, boost immunity and protect against skin problems.

Kalajeera –

This is an aromatic rice variety. It is also known as the ‘Prince of Rice’ and its informal name is ‘Baby Basmati.’ A darker shade, it looks like cumin seeds. It is believed to increase hemoglobin levels and body metabolism. This fragrant grain is also said to have antispasmodic, stomachic, carminative, hypolipidemic, antibacterial, astringent and sedative properties. Ancient text explains that Kalajeera improves memory and controls diabetes.

Mapillai Champa-

This variety is believed to cure mouth ulcers and even cancer. It is very good for people with diabetes as it lowers blood sugar.This fibrous rice keeps the mind and body alert.

In red rice, the bran layer is rich in polyphenols, anthocyanin and has antioxidant properties. Their zinc and iron content is two to three times higher than what you would get in white rice.

“In 1910 the first rice milling machine came to India and that changed our entire eating habit. Today it is believed that white rice is harmful for our health. But every grain is as good as other, we just have to eat it right. In India, the first thing we give to a baby to start solids is rice and we spread rice at someone’s death too. Rice is so much a part of our culture because our geography and our climatic condition make rice the least allergenic and most nutrient grain. So don’t be afraid of rice. It is the queen of cereals. There is no better cereal in the world than rice if you eat it well,” she concludes.

Spirit of The Earth is located at 3rd Floor, Srinidhi Apartments, No. 4, Desika Road, Mylapore, Chennai 600 004. Phone Number – 91 95000 82142, 91 44 2498 7955 / 2498 7966

(Source: The Better India)

Stop bouncing rice balls and wasting all that good food

Bouncing rice balls have really got food safety officials in different parts of the country into a tizzy. Because every time a consumer bounces a rice ball and cries ‘plastic rice’, the officials are forced to take samples to check them for that elusive plastic!

Last week, for example, consumers at a bus depot in Chennai started throwing large rice balls at passing buses, alleging that the government canteen there was serving plastic rice, compelling food safety officials to collect nine samples of rice from the canteen for testing. In Delhi too, food safety officials have had to take a close look at bouncing balls in restaurants. In fact while at an eating joint, if you suddenly see someone getting up and bouncing a big ball of rice against a wall, don’t get shocked. Most likely, the person is trying to check whether the rice being served is real or plastic.

Rumours of ‘plastic rice’ making the rounds on social media have created such a panic among rice eaters that in the last few weeks the state food safety officials are being flooded with complaints of plastic rice being sold by retailers or being served at restaurants. In Chennai, the officials said they inspected 74 outlets across the city and tested 14 samples and they all turned out to be ‘real rice’. The food safety department in Coimbatore inspected 200 shops across the district and tested 19 samples and the only non-rice particles that they found were stones.

In Delhi too, the food safety department said following consumer complaints, they lifted 20 samples of raw rice from different markets and seven samples of cooked rice from hotels and restaurants. Tests found no plastic content in any sample. In Bengaluru, elaborate tests by the University of Agricultural Sciences too found no trace of plastic in any of the samples complained about. In Andhra Pradesh, Civil Supplies minister Prathipati Pulla Rao held a press conference to rubbish the fears of ‘plastic rice’ as totally ‘unfounded’ and even announced a prize of Rs 50,000 to anyone who gave a lead to finding such a rice.

At the root of this fear of ‘plastic rice’ lie online videos (which have gone viral) of rice balls bouncing like rubber balls. Now experts say that it is not a peculiar phenomenon, given the composition of rice. Dr Nagappa G Malleshi, former head of Grains, Science and Technology, Central Food Technological Research Institute, Mysore, explains that rice is 80% starch, which contains amylose and amylo pectin. When you cook rice, these swell and leach out and make the rice sticky. And when you mash and make them into a ball, they stick together, but they also entrap air and therefore bounce. How bouncy the ball is depends on the amylose content of the rice. Higher the amylose content, greater the bounce, he says, explaining why some bounce more than others. He also points out that the whole idea of plastic rice grains is ridiculous because if you try to cook it, obviously the plastic cannot absorb water nor can it ‘cook’. It will only melt and burn.

Dr VP Singh, former head, Division of genetics, Indian Agricultural Research Institute-IARI, also de-mystifies the ball bouncing phenomenon on YouTube. Rice, he says, has got adhesive and cohesive properties because of the high percentage (80%) of starch in it. So the ball formation is on account of this adhesiveness. And when you throw this ball, it is bound to bounce on account of its volume expansion and air entrapment, he says, dismissing fears of the ‘plastic content’ in the rice causing the bouncing effect.

So hopefully, we will stop bouncing rice balls and wasting all that good rice.

(Source: HT)