The chorus of a multitude of fish auctions in action by the Kasimedu pier is nothing compared to the bustle at B Rathna’s food stall nearby. She’s been working since 3 am that morning and is understandably at her wit’s end. She silences all our questions with a fiery ‘let me work in peace’ stare — she’s pouring dosa batter onto a sizzling skillet with one hand, pausing to hand out change to a customer, all the while asking her employee D Thangam to parcel two parottas for another customer who has just walked up to the stall. Rathna’s menu is basic: idli , vada , lemon rice, omelette, dried nethili fish curry, and suraputtu by the pier; her customers are mostly fishermen, hawkers, and the odd seafood shopper. But her dessert, ulundhu kali , is what catches our eye. It’s a Kasimedu speciality, which you won’t find in other parts of the city.
“It has one kilogram of ulundhu (urad dal) and half a kilogram of kadalai paruppu (gram dal), soaked overnight and ground to a paste,” explains Thangam, offering us a slice on a square piece of newspaper. “To this, we add vellam (jaggery) and oil, and keep stirring the mixture over a low flame. Once it cools, we slice it, and sprinkle scraped coconut before serving.”
The kali looks like tea cake, only, a greasier version. It’s mildly sweet and soft, the texture a little like idli . Rathna sells a piece for ₹10. “Some fishermen pick up a few on their way to sea; it makes for a nice snack,” Thangam tells us. “Would you like one more?”
We pack another one and join the late morning shoppers — in Kasimedu terms, late morning is 8 am — to head towards the New Market. Business has been wrapped up in this part of the neighbourhood, with the last few kilograms of prawns being packed in polystyrene boxes.
A little beyond, at a street corner, sits A Kattayi with an aluminium container inside which stand light-yellow cubes of uludhu kali . “I started selling this only recently,” she smiles. “A lot of women in Kasimedu make the kali at home.” Her kali is almost sold out; just then, a mother with her toddler in tow, comes up to buy some from Kattayi. She offers the mother a piece and asks her, “Is it for the boy?” The lady nods and walks off, offering the kali to her son. “I don’t think you should give him the full piece,” she calls out after them. “It’s too heavy for children.”
They walk away and Kattayi shakes her heard. “The kali is tasty all right, but one mustn’t overeat it.”
