In Search of the Non-Veg Onasadhya
Is there a meaty counterpoint to the archetypal vegetarian meal that is served on the banana leaf? Beef and seafood consumption is now so associated with the Malayali that it’s practically their metiere. Manju Sara Rajan goes in search of the fabled non-vegetarian onasadhya.
This is Kerala, and Malayalis are a confounding bunch. Just look at our electoral behaviour over the past almost ten years. We are, if unintentionally, contradictory. Highly educated but also conservative; sometimes obtusely prescriptive—we have colleges with mandatory uniforms—but also exceptionally creative—Kochi hosts the region’s largest art exhibition in the region and the tiny state has produced an unusually large number of artists. So, yes, we’re confusing, especially if you’re trying to pin a precise common denominator to all of us. Malayalis are at their most liberal when it comes to food. And as a coastal state that’s seen a plethora of cultural influences, this is one area of our lives where we’re willing to let live—and let eat. That also applies to our most iconic feast, the Onasadhya.
Onam is a secular festival that celebrates the Malayaliness of us all, whether Christian, Muslim, Hindu or any other. It marks the beginning of the Malayalam new year, and commemorates the homecoming of the fabled King Maveli, whose last wish it was to visit his people once every year. And of course, the legendary visitor is greeted with a legendary meal. It is so substantial that Ayurvedic principles advise the eater to sit cross-legged and follow a precise order of consumption to aid digestion. While the standard Onasadhya is a vegetarian meal that celebrates seasonal produce, in the context of households, particularly in the Malabar and central parts of the state, the details of a sadhya can vary. Depending on family culture, a sadhya does, in fact, include non-vegetarian dishes intermixed with vegetarian ones.
When I began speaking with people about this story it was under the certainty that in Kerala of all places, there must exist a non-vegetarian sadhya. Beef and seafood consumption is now so associated with the Malayali that it’s practically our metiere. So, one assumed that there must be a meaty counterpoint to the archetypal vegetarian meal that serves on the banana leaf, every one of the five flavour profiles via as many as 64 elements.
For Some of Us, This Means Meat
Oneal Sabu is a chef and food anthropologist, whose focus is food cultures along the coastal areas that came under Portuguese occupation from around the 15th century. Oneal categorically says Kerala isn’t likely to have ever had a formal non-vegetarian sadhya, if only for political reasons. “Except for the Zamorin, who ruled the Kozhikode region, all the other rulers were vegetarian, and it goes to reason that people take their cues from the overlords and would therefore not have had an entirely non-vegetarian version of the festival meal.”
But, as 82-year-old Alapuzha resident Betty Karunakaran said to me, “This is a festival, a celebration, that means having the best of everything, and for some of us that means having meat.” For Betty, the Onam meal is a set of vegetarian dishes, with the addition of mutton, chicken and sea-catch like kingfish. She grew up further south in Attingal near the state capital to a set of parents from Malayali Hindu families with entirely different social outlooks. Her father was from a very conservative vegetarian one, while her mother’s was a liberal Hindu household. Betty’s Anglicised name and her love for meaty preparations were bequeathed by her mother.
Artwork by Sheeba Mammen
Further south from Betty’s home, and along the Vembanad Lake, the Kottayam lake district is home to a significant Syrian Christian population and among them Onam is perhaps the only occasion on which a completely vegetarian meal could be considered celebratory. However, Mrs. KM Mathew, the late Kottayam-resident author of many cookbooks and founding editor of the Vanitha weekly, always included meat in her Onasadhya. “She hated restrictions related to food,” says her daughter-in-law Bina Mathew, who is now editor of the Pachakam food magazine. “Her rule was no rules when it came to enjoyment of food so her Onasadhya always included a few choice non-veg dishes like a chemeen (prawn) olathu, and a semi-dry mutton.”
What is refreshing then about the Malayali way of doing things is simply allowing people to make choices as it suits them. When Onam is celebrated in larger groups like at clubs, it is not unusual to have some non-vegetarian options present for those who wish to partake in it. In the north of Kerala, where many communities consider meat an essential part of festive revelries, meat is always on the menu. Leila Kamaluddin is the former district chair of Inner Wheel in Kannur, the ladies wing of the Rotary Club. She says when the club hosts its annual Onam celebration, there is always a choice of fish and chicken. “Since the vegetarian dishes are curry-based the non-vegetarian ones are usually dry, such as a fish or chicken fry.”
Special non-veg sadya, curated by Mahabelly, in Delhi
Many years ago, when a Delhi-based publication asked me to edit and create a Cochin edition, one of the instructions the publisher handed down to me was to skip any mention of beef in the food stories. Such is the political sensitivity around food and culinary choices now. If you go by the advertisements and marketing around Onam and its food, particularly outside of the state, the purist green version wins, hands down. However, in Kerala, meat eating has generally increased, and some restaurants will serve a red-dot version of the meal. Lathika George, the author of The Suriani Kitchen, remembers her time at Vimalayalam in Kaloor, Kochi, a sort of finishing school where would-be brides were sent to learn the basics of etiquette and cooking before they got married. “It was about 40 years ago, and one of the things the nuns taught us was a proper vegetarian Onam sadhya. Now I find that more people are including meats,” she says.
It is then perhaps just a part of the evolution of this ‘traditional’ meal. Oneal says the sambhar only made its appearance on the banana leaf about 150 years ago from Thanjavur. “Items get added all the time. In Kochi, pineapple pachadi is now part of the sadhya. Pineapples came post the Portuguese.” When Goya Journal polled its readers with the question: ‘Have you ever eaten a non-vegetarian sadhya?’, 30 percent of respondents said they had, including various beef and squid preparations. Goes to show that the interpretation of tradition differs, depending on who you’re asking. So, enjoy your sadhya, however you prefer—that is the Malayali way.
Manju Sara Rajan is the co-author of My Life As A Comrade, the memoir of KK Shailaja.
Artwork by Sheeba Mammen.
Thank you to our friends at Mahabelly for partnering on this season’s Onam features. Mahabelly is a beloved Kerala restaurant in Delhi, named after Mahabali, the lionized mythical king of the Kerala. Restaurateur Thomas Fenn expresses their vision in one cheeky line: “More Malayali food for more people.”
Last weekend, Mahabelly hosted a special sadya (more on that here) featuring several meat and fish items — a departure from the traditional vegetarian sadya, but very much in keeping with Kerala’s history of inclusivity, where non-vegetarian items are added to the meal, based on family and community tastes.
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