Kandi Podi: My Love in a Jar

In one of my recent posts, I wrote about nuvvula podi and how I always pick that first. And that’s still true. With zero competition, sesame podi wins my heart every single time.

But if I’m being honest, there are actually four podis constantly trying to climb their way to the top of my plate. Poor things. Trying their best. One by one, they’ll all find their way here on the blog.

Today, though, I want to talk about one that has quietly held a big space in my heart for years.
Kandi podi.
My love in a jar.

Kandi podi is made from toor dal. And then there’s kandi pachadi, which belongs to the same family. Same recipe, same taste, just a little water added to make it a paste. Pachadi has a much shorter lifespan, while podi is the kind that sits patiently in a jar, waiting to be loved again and again.

Before I go any further, let me tell you something very important.
There is only one right way to eat kandi podi.

Hot rice.
Kandi podi.
Aavakaya or maagaya.
And generous spoonfuls of ghee.

Mix it with your hand and eat it slowly.

If you’ve eaten it like this, you already know.
If you haven’t, you should. Because this is what comfort tastes like.

I’m sure my mom made kandi podi countless times when I was growing up. I don’t remember every single step, but I clearly remember the aroma. That smell of toor dal being dry roasted in a heavy kadai. Something about it would fill the house quietly. No loud spices. Just warmth.

She would roast it, switch off the flame, let it cool down for a bit, and then grind it. Somehow, she always knew exactly when to stop. I still don’t know how.

As a child, I was very suspicious of new recipes. I liked what I liked, and I wasn’t very interested in experimenting. My mom knew this. So instead of asking me to try it, she did what she always did best. She mixed some hot rice, added kandi podi, a little mango pickle, some ghee, and placed the plate in front of me.

One bite.

That was it.

That day, kandi pachadi became both my lunch and dinner. I didn’t eat anything else. I didn’t want to.

My dad loves kandi pachadi too, so it was made quite often at home. Amma would store it in a jar and keep it in the fridge. And somehow, that jar always felt special to me. That’s probably where the phrase love in a jar comes from in my head. And I tried making it for the first time and undoubtedly ruined it!

It’s funny how something so simple can carry so much. Kandi podi is just lentils, after all. Rich in protein, wholesome, nourishing. But for me, it was never about nutrition. It was about how it made me feel. Safe. Full. Happy.

At my parents’ place, it was almost always kandi pachadi. At my in laws’ place, I discovered the joy of having it as kandi podi, dry and perfectly stored. And the best part is, you can keep it for months. Though honestly, with the way I eat it, it barely lasts weeks.

My father in law and I share some serious food chemistry. We both love brinjal, pesara pachadi, kandi podi and pachadi, and of course, deep fried street snacks. Nine out of ten times he goes out in the evening, he brings something back for me. Meanwhile, my husband plays the role of the health police, making sure neither of us enjoys too much in peace.

There’s this one place in Hyderabad where we regularly order pickles and podis from. And every single time, kandi podi is non negotiable. When it comes home, I know exactly what I’m eating next.

Hot rice.
Kandi podi.
Mango pickle.
Ghee. Again.

I can eat it three times a day. And somehow, with every meal, I love it more.

Some dishes are fancy.
Some are festive.
And some just quietly sit with you through life.

For me, kandi podi is that dish.
Simple. Honest. Full of love.
And always waiting for me in a jar.

Ingredients:

For Kandi Podi

• Toor dal (kandi pappu)

• Dry red chillies

• Cumin seeds

• Hing

• Salt

For Kandi Pachadi

• Entire process of kandi podi

• A little water (only to help grind into a paste)

Instructions:

Wash the toor dal and let it dry completely.
Once dry, roast it slowly in a heavy kadai on low flame. Keep stirring patiently until it turns golden and releases that deep, nutty aroma.

Switch off the flame and let it cool fully.

Dry roast the red chillies and cumin seeds separately for a minute or two. Add hing at the end.

Once everything has cooled, grind the toor dal, red chillies, cumin, hing and salt into a coarse powder.

This is kandi podi.

If you want kandi pachadi, follow the exact same process, add a little water and blend it well in a grinder until it becomes a smooth, thick paste.

Store podi in a clean, dry jar.
Pachadi should be consumed fresh or stored briefly in the fridge.

Srishti’s Secret Tip for the Perfect Plate:

Kandi podi should never be too fine.
That slight coarse texture is what makes it magical with hot rice and ghee.

Srishti’s Healing Tip for the Perfect Plate:

Some dishes don’t need improvement.
They’ve already survived generations exactly as they are.

Let them stay simple.

Why You’ll Love This:

• It needs just a few pantry ingredients

• Tastes best with hot rice and ghee

• Comforting without trying too hard

• Easy to make, easier to fall in love with

• Stays with you long after the meal is over