A Sunday afternoon lunch without the Potato was punishable by law in the 8th century. A renowned Chozha king call Urulai Chozhan killed people who dared to prepare a Sunday feast without potato. Urulai Chozhan was a vulgar king known to eat three vegetables a day - (a) the mashed potato - that is typically found in the deep dark underbelly of the Masala Dosai, (b) the kutti-kuttiya-narukina potato that has been chopped to 1x1 cm small cubes, and (c) the roasted potato which are 4x3 cm cuboidal forms that have been roasted to the point of being crispy. With such loyalty to the vegetable one could safely assume Urulai Chozhan had a bias towards this gas-inducer and did not take anti-potato people lightly. Several women, who defied his dictat and made Goes-kootu (Cabbage) on a Sunday have been made to stand in the Royal courtyard where people stood around her and threw tons and tons of potatoes on her. Once a woman had undergone the humiliation of being beaten by another man's potato, she could never cook for her husband. It was terrible. All the women cowered at the sight of Urualai Chozhan's tyranny and cooked potato without fail on Sunday.
This forced conversion of people into Potato lovers changed the way the people lived forever. History was forgotten and several prominent vegetables lost their place in the society. This wasn't the case before the tyrannical days of Urulai Chozhan. Another vegetable dominated the minds of the people. The vegetable was un-compromising in its taste, unpretentious like the evil potato, had more gas and packed more power. This vegetable was ruthlessly wiped out of the public memory by Urulai Chozhan and his successors Sena Chozhan and Sarkaraivalli Chozhan. After the passing away of the Chozha dynasty this great, yet unsung, vegetable slowly began to make its way into mainstream society. What is this unsung heroic Kizhangu that seems to be rising like the phoenix? What is this Kizhangu that is sending shivers down the Koyambedu market and Ranganathan street? What is causing all the vegetable vendors to shake in their Bata boots and move the Potato to a corner of their stall and make space for the real King. (silence)
Also called Seepa Kizhangu (and pronounced say-pun-kizhangu). The return of Seiypan Kizhangu to our conciousness will be so great that many years from now J.R. Seiypan will write a book trilogy with a 3rd book called 'The Return of The Kizhangu' . This was real Kizhangu. Much before the evil days of Urulai Chozhan this Kazhangu ruled the world justly and fairly. Maybe more gas but it did not hurt our eyes with the bright glaze of Ramarajan yellow. It was a sober fair King. Loved by everybody and enslaved only their taste buds. So much so that Vaasuki cooked Seiypan Kizhangu everyday for her superstar-of-succintness poet husband Valluvar. He kept calling her every day exactly when she was drawing water from the well. She had grown tired of the bucket hanging mid-air as she dropped hold of the rope and rushed to attend to his summons. The gravity-defying law suits from Sir Isaac Newton's ancestors wasn't helping either. So she decided to cook Seiypan Kizhangu for him. And he never called her until the plate was empty or the well was dry.
The key to a good seiypan kizhangu is the roast. You over roast it - its blasphemy and you will rot in hell. You undercook it and you have to go to jail. It has to be roasted to the right magnitude. There should be a tinge of crispyness when you bite it and the oil should be balanced. The world of Seiypan Kizhangu is disciplined. Unlike Urulai it does not pander itself to machinations of the world. It arrives in the plate in strict size limits. It always is manufactured in spherical shape, 2.5 cm in diameter with 42 angstrom units of roasted cover around its circumference. The 'thaalichu kottification' of the Seiypan Kizhangu is a major step in the process. the right grams and dhaal need to be added in the right proportions. That gravy must slither over the kizhangu without disturbing the pristine-ness of the Kizhangu but at the same time must suck some flavor from the Kizhngu onto itself. Salt in Seiypan Kizhangu must follow atomic level precision. The salt should merge with the Kizhangu to form perfect crystalline 7-2-7 formation. Every atom of Seiypan Kizhangu must have 2 of its own protons and 3 electrons of NaCl.
So this great kizhangu shall dominate mankind like no Kizhangu before. It now lurks in a corner, far away from the limelight, while its poorer cousin Urulai Kizhangu hogs the headlines. It is plotting. While the Urulai lies in the center of the stall, the real king lies behind the shopkeeper in a sleazy corner with Karuvaipillai, Akka Pullai, Saiva Pillai and other Mapillais. People buy it as an after thought. And the insult hurts. Its eyes can see everything that happens in Koyambedu and Ranganathan Street. Slowly it shall fill the spaces of Ranganathan street, and then its Reliance Fresh. It will then shout the greatest war cry ever. A cry that will be heard in the corridors of Saravana Bhavan, Ganesh Bhavan and Anandha Bhavan. A cry that will echo in the lunch halls of every decent school. The thundering march via Padmanabhans and Arusuvai Arasus into the Muhurtham, reception, & Samandhi Virunthu menu of every Kalyanam Mandapam. Depending on how the Saravana Bhavan treats the new world order in Kizhangu - the Seiypan Kizhangu will march all the way to Wal-Mart Superstores and then there is no turning back.
The age of of Urulai is over. The time for the real Kizhangu has come.