RAMYA KRISHNAMURTHY writes from Bangalore: For the better part of the past month, one of the questions that has been bugging me is a food-related one: who made the first Maddur Vade, and why did he make it in one of the more unremarkable places on the Bangalore-Mysore road?
(It’s so artless in its looks, it has to be a he, right?)
Sexist stereotypes aside, there are two reasons—three, if you include the inclusion of Our Man from Maddur to head the external affairs ministry—why I have been thinking about the Maddur Vade—or Maddur Vada or Vadai to irritate the semantic chauvinists.
Firstly, as my husband (age 41) keeps teasingly insisting these days, food is the new sex: there is some kind of voyeuristic pleasure to be had in reading about it; in thinking about it; in publicly imagining its myriad private possibilities.
And secondly, how can any self-respecting foodie in Bangalore not think of the Maddur Vade?
I mean, Mysore has its pak; Mangalore has its bajji and gadbad; Dharwad the peda; Davangere its benne dose. Even tiddly Bidadi has its “thatte idli“. If the identity of these small towns can be defined by food, just what accident of history deprived “big” Bangalore of its culinary claim to fame?
And what accident of history gave Maddur its pride of place on the gastronomic map?
The answer could be geography.
The fact that Maddur lies almost exactly mid-way (70 km) between Bangalore and Mysore could well explain its birth and growth as the must-have mid-way snack.
Back in pre-liberalised India, when the trains were metre gauge and private cars were few and far between, “Non-Stop” buses was the way to go. The buses halted for a few minutes underneath amid the coconut orchards for the men to amuse themselves.
Was that when the Maddur Vada made its brave incursion?
These days, for some 40-50 km on the 140-km stretch, from somewhere after Ramanagara to somewhere before Mandya, Maddur Vade stalks you like those picture postcard sellers do at the Taj or Gateway of India.
In a way, though, the Vade could be Maddur’s picture postcard except that you view it through your mouth and quickly eat up the evidence before the next town nears. But since the flavour of burnt onion is the defining characteristic of the Maddur Vade, the memory lingers long after.
So, you wonder who made it first and why?
***
If you are on an express or shuttle trains, the vendors haul up the buckets stuffed full with the Vade at the various stations and “crossing” points. These Vades are of varying quality, slightly thicker and a slightly more expensive than the Vades that the young boys produce at your bus window.
But it is only when you are in your own car or on a bike, that the full magic of Maddur Vade can be properly exploited and appreciated.
Reason: on public transport, the Maddur Vade is a heartless, no-fuss, commercial transaction.
On the train, for instance, the vendor serves it to you on 1/8th of a newspaper sheet and rushes off because there are 14 other compartments to serve.
If you are on the evening Chamundi Express heading to Mysore, the vendor might even affectionately persuade you to pick up a packet of three or five in a plastic cover for the family but that’s just “stock clearance” before he closes shop for the day and gets off in Srirangapatna.
If you are on the dreadful Shatabdi Express, god help you.
On the bus, the Maddur Vade is a victim of logistical inconsistency. Different kinds of bus services stop at different kinds of places, and some like the Volvos don’t even do that. Result: you don’t know where, if at all, your next Maddur Vade is coming from.
It is only when you take an express bus that you can be sure that at least in the place of its birth, the Vade will materialise at your window.
On both the train and the bus, the Maddur Vade is a functional experience. The Vade and nothing more. It’s bone-dry and convenient although the train Vade has been calculated by scientists of the Central Food Technological Research Institute (CFTRI) to be on average 2.3 times thicker than the bus Vade. (The Defence Food Research Laboratory has put the figure at 2.35 times.)
Downside: the vintage of the Vade is hidden by the speed of the transaction.
However, it is when you stop by leisurely at the highway restaurants—Maddur Tiffany’s on either side of the highway, the “MTR” Shivalli restaurant, Kamat Lokruchi, etc—especially when the sun is dipping, that you get to savour the experience of a warm-to-hot Vade with chutney, followed by strong coffee.
Only those who have newly bought a white elephant called the tread mill can stop at just one.
(Café Coffee Day, I am certain, is never likely to soil the muffin-coated mouths of its clientele despite its founder’s conjugal links with Maddur.)
***
The strange thing about the Maddur Vade despite its reasonable reputation is that there are few claimants to its discovery.
The Moti Mahal in Delhi will lay claim to dishing up the first butter chicken; Bombay’s Nelson Wang to the gobi Manchurian. But who lowered the first Maddur Vade into the boiling bandlee? We will never know.
There is a museum in Shivapura but there are no statues hailing the maker, the master-chef. Yet.
My own first memory of Maddur Vade is when I was seven or eight. Our family was proceeding to Bangalore in our old Morris Tiger early one morning. Shortly after Maddur, my father swung the car into a narrow lane which deposited us in front of the railway station. Magically, a vendor appeared and served us the goodies on l’il banana leaves.
Even now, the Maddur Vade at the railway station commands a small premium over other Maddur Vades, and old faithfuls still swear by it, resisting all overtures from the vendors on the trains, till the stop nears. But this could just be good old nostalgia.
For me, the Maddur Vade has held its charm for one key reason: it was the rebel among vades in our joint family kitchen. My mother, Sharada, now 75, never ever made or attempted to make it at home. Uddina vade she did, masala vade she did, but Maddur Vade was a strict no-no.
There was something “street food” about it.
So, falling for its charms not only became a matter of the stomach but an expression of the heart. Nothing about it suggests good health. Not the oil, not the semolina, not the deep fried onions.
But the fact that they didn’t make it at home was reason enough to hog regardless of the time of day. A deep fried vade first thing in the morning on the way to work may not be what the doctor prescribes, but what’s medicine got to do with the palate when geography beckons?
Speaking of which, will Prema Krishna put Maddur Vade on the MEA menu when the “dialogue process” begins with Pakistan? And could it usher in peace between our two countries in our troubled subcontinent?
If the shortest route to a man’s heart is through his stomach, can even Asif Ali Zardari resist the Maddur Vade‘s naked attraction that has melted millions from different parts of the country?
It’s pure fantasy, of course, but you can almost hear S.M. Krishna sitting at the high table, nodding in agreement with himself as he delicately pushes a plate of Maddur Vade towards his guests from across the border: “Here, try some of these with some gatti chutney….”
Photographs: Karnataka Photo News
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RK,
Next time you are travel on SH-17 stop by at Maddur Tiffany’s and ask the owner ! They will tell you the story of how one of their ancestor conjured the Maddur vada ! Till early 80’s one had to drive to the Maddur railway station canteen for this specialty , if you were not a train passenger.
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Which came first? Maddur Vade or SM Krishna?
I remember reading somewhere that Maddur Vade too was a creation of adversity, created during a war where only wheat and its byproducts were available.
So I guess, Krishna came first.
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Splendid! Thanks for sharing your fine writing, Ramya Krishnamurthy.
I don’t live in Maddur or anywhere near so I will have to make my own Maddur Vade (using my mother’s recipe emailed from home).
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Good write up!
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@churumuri,
I thought you would name this piece ‘Commodification of Maddur Vade’ ! :-)
@Ramya,
Nice article. But hey, keep the sex out of this ! Maddur Vade is a ‘family’ favorite :-)
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We are so lucky to have so many different foods to eat which are very specific in Karnataka. Probably I’ll never taste a “Maddur Vada” in some Tamil/Telugu owned restaurant(commodification of Karnataka food by non-Kannadigas) but I would love to eat in Karnataka from a Kannadiga owned restaurant.
Whoever invented those food items are really great souls and I salute them from bottom of my heart.
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It was in the 40s of the last century. My father with a basic salary of less thanRs.200 was entitled to travel first class in the then MSR, Mysore State Railway. The first class bogies were individual entities, with a bathroom where one could take a bath, a foldable wash basin, bottle openers etc. Someone would take our order one station beforr Maddur and as our train pulled in a white uniformed waiter would be standing just where our carriage stopped. There would soft flowerlike idlies and chutney which was divine and of course warm Maddur Vada and the best thing was the coffee in a clean pot, milk and sugar in seperate containers. If we asked them to pack some vades they would wrap them in banana leaves. Today when coming back from Mysore I order Vade to be packed, I get it in plastic and cardboard. What a loss
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very good writing………madam
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heck! all this reading has made me hungry for maddur vade and I dont get it where I live. I hate Ramya.
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Ramya, Beautifully written :)
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What next? Ambode?
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Makes me hungry for maddur vade – cant get it where I live either.
Anyone upto writing about non-veg dishes from malenadu, coorg and kanara? The recipes of some of the dishes I tasted as a kid might already be lost :(
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love the write-up…made me hungry though grrrrrr lol
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‘Artless in its looks’?! What do you mean madam, look at its golden colour, the aroma….. One should not merely go by the looks, you know. Whether, it is a person, or any other thing.
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Hi Ramya,
I have penned a lot of articles in papers on maddur vada and mysore, There is something in the journey of Mysore, bangalore which adds up for everything, Maddur vade is just the icing on the cake. The toys available on the way to channapatna, the tender coconut water especially near Maddur, all adds the flare to the journey. Very well written hats off to you !
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Very nicely written article about a very tasty subject…
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Hi Ramya,
Found your site when I was searching for Indian recipes. Article about maddur wade was interesting. I am based in Mumbai, so know more about batatawada.Intend to follow up with maddur wade preparation.Tried date payasam and glad to say it turned out well.
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I USED TO HAVE MADDUR VADA IN MADAKASIRA A BORDER VILLAGE OF KARNATAKA, NEAR HINDUPUR. I LEFT THAT PLACE 3 YRS AGO AND NEVER VISITED AGAIN. BUT STILL REMEMBER ITS TASTE. WAREWA BUT IT WAS NOT TENDER BUT USED TO BE A BIT CRISPY AND DRY CAN ANY ONE TELL WHERE IT IS AVAILABLE IN HYDERABAD…..
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