Sutta Sundakkai and Rasavalli Enthu Cutlets

I’ll admit, I take some devilish pleasure coming up with these rather SEO-unfriendly obscure recipe titles that nobody may ever find.

Now having done so, here’s an unpacking. The sundakkai is Solanum torvum, nightshade family like eggplants and thoothuvalai; it’s the so-called turkey berry–native to the south-eastern United States, Carribbean, and Central Americas, but, possibly owing to its hardy, wild, weed-like nature, has spread wide and naturalized in vast parts of Africa and Asia. I’ve heard of its uses in Thai fare, and grown up with its importance to Tamil meals. We typically were fed these in varthal form: soaked in curd, sun-dried and stored, and then fried and had with curd-rice or prepared in lip-smacking varthal kuzhambus. Even as children, we loved their slight sour bitterness and tehir crunch when they were fried, so never needed any further rationale for copious consumption, but these berries are especially iron and vitamin rich, fed to those with anaemia, and purportedly aid digestion.

One of those good-for-you ingredients, so don’t ask questions, just find, eat and feed them to your family. Around Auroville and in many parts of Tamil Nadu, they are forageable and available in local grocery stores. No excuses.

Rasavalli kizhangu is the purple yam, the Philippino ube, Dioscorea alata, about which I’ve written lots before & baked with multiple times. But always sweet things. Time for something savory, I was thinking, and then Preeti Tamilarasan’s cutlets floated by–clearly, she’s been writing about the sundakkai for a while, and although she started with using sweet potato, she’s also adapted the recipe using yam.

Hanh, I thought, there’s an idea–to combine these two hyper-local ingredients, one this striking purple, one this popping green. The fact that both could be sourced from our garden was enough to turn me into an enthu cutlet–also hyper-local lingo for one of those over-enthusiastic types who’s always (sometimes endearingly, sometimes annoyingly) energetically ahead of things .. and maybe also likely to jump guns.

The rasavalli is also known locally as the vettrilai kizhangu as the leaves resemble betel, but that could describe many yams with similar leaf-shapes.

To recall the smoky-burnt flavors of the sundakkai varthal (and combine those with the sweetness of the purple yam), I decided to fire-roast mine. I used an old indoor braai pan carted over from Woolies in Johannesburg once-upon-a-visit: the South Africans do love their braai, and this is a nifty tool. Fire roasting does bring a very lovely flavor to this cutlet, so if you have to find ways to char these slightly on a hot griddle as a substitute–do so. It will be worthwhile.

Next, the rasavalli, which takes some effort to clean. Remember to oil your hands generously and keep aloe vera handy–oxalate concentrations in the skin do cause contact dermatitis. Plus you want to go a little slowly on this because the most intense purple of the rasavalli lives barely beneath the skin. Keeping it takes a careful scraping of the yam’s outer armor.

Rasavalli would take too long to cook through on an open flame, and would likely dry out in the process, so I boiled the yam pieces first and then charred them for a bare few minutes immediately after.

Pulse the sutta sundakkai, separately pulse the cooked-charred rasavalli and then combine the two. Mash it all together really well.

Preeti’s recipe called for the use of cabbage, which I added when I took these images, but it’s entirely optional and I’ve left it out since. It’s an ok addition, but didn’t bring much to this dish. Being something of a purist at heart, I’ve also kept this cutlet uber simple–the dry starchiness of the rasavalli, which the Filipinos would have pounded and pounded into their creamiest nilupak na ube, is really more than sufficient to absorb the wetness of the pulsed sundakkai and the cutlet forms perfectly with just these two main ingredients plus a little finely chopped onion and green-chilli-ginger-garlic paste. Salt.

Absolutely nothing more–no flours, no egg, no masalas. Just smoky sweet-bitter tastes, spiced and salted. Vegan, gluten-free.

Pat these into little tikkis or patties about the size of your palm and about as thick as your thumb.

I happened to have a stash of breadcrumbs from several days of toasting bread and collecting the “droppings.” So I used those to layer an outer crunch. Dukkah would be a nice addition, too, come to think of it. But the cutlet can also do without.

Griddle fry these on a hot pan but a low flame–slowly. And serve with a good green chutney that has all the tastes of whatever herbs you happen to have around. This enthu cutlet can take it.

Sutta Sundakkai and Rasavalli Kizhangu Cutlets

Fire roasted turkey berry and purple yam cutlets, combined with just enough spice and seasoning to hold them together keep their smoky sweet-bitter tastes and are a delightful variation from the usual potato-based cutlets out there.

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Ingredients

  

• 2 cups rasavalli kizhangu, or substitute with any locally available yam
• 1 cup sundakkai
• 1 small onion, finely chopped or use 2 whole green onions
• ½ cup finely shredded cabbage, optional
• 3-4 cloves garlic
• 1" piece of fresh ginger
• 2 green chillies
• Some coriander leaves
• Salt to taste

Instructions

 

• Prepare the rasavalli, which takes some effort to clean. Remember to oil your hands generously and keep aloe vera handy–oxalate concentrations in the skin do cause contact dermatitis. Plus you want to go a little slowly on this because the most intense purple of the rasavalli lives barely beneath the skin. Keeping it takes a careful scraping of the yam’s outer armor.
• Once the yam is cleaned, chop into chunks and boil until barely tender—about 10 minutes or less. Drain and transfer to a braai pan or simply roast on a very hot griddle until slightly browned.
• Pulse in the jar of a mixer or food processor and set aside.
• Place the cleaned and washed sundakkai in the same braai pan and roast until charred and soft. A chulha works, too. If you don’t have either, simply roast on a hot tava until well-charred.
• Pulse the sutta sundakkai until it looks pasty (but rough is fine) then add the green chillies, and ginger-garlic (which you can also smash a little beforehand to help make a paste). Pulse a few more times to combine and break up any chunks of anything.
• Combine with the rasavalli mash, and all the remaining ingredients. Mash it all together really well.
• Adjust salt to taste.
• Pat these into little tikkis or patties about the size of your palm and about as thick as your thumb.
• You can press these into a plate of breadcrumbs if you have any handy, or dukkah—or both. But this is entirely optional
• Griddle fry the cutlets on a hot pan but a low flame–slowly. Serve with a good green chutney that has all the tastes of whatever herbs you happen to have around. This enthu cutlet can take it.

Notes

A recipe for dukkah is here!