Everlasting green seasoning

A savoury moringa condiment you can sprinkle on nearly everything

Hey there! My name is Apoorva Sripathi, I’m a writer, editor, and artist. This week’s paid subscriber newsletter is a recipe for a green seasoning that has endless uses from popcorn and hummus to oatmeal. I hope you’ll give it a go!

In the vein of an anything-goes pesto, this is a recipe for a universal condiment. Hot rice? Yes. Glutinous congee and oatmeal? Of course. Steaming popcorn? Please! I lovingly called this ‘greens powder/podi’ (Tamil for powder) because it contains greens, duh: murungai (moringa), mint, and curry leaf. It came about accidentally (because we had a glut of murungai keerai and mint at home) and it reminds of furikake, Bryant Terry’s ‘Amazing Green Rice’, and my mother’s mint pulao all rolled into one.

This is by no means an inventive recipe. In fact, there are numerous podi recipes in the South Indian food canon, including one for dried and powdered moringa leaves. There’s paruppu podi, or powdered lentils, made with toor dal, chillies, black pepper, and garlic. There’s also two types of ellu (sesame) podi: a savoury one mixed with rice and a sweet one with jaggery and cardamom, which is an incredibly nutty and oily powder that sticks to your teeth and the back of your throat almost endearingly.

I can go on, for podis, thogayals, and chutneys help form the bones of South Indian food. While thogayal and chutney are often interchangeable (the former is more of a paste and the latter sometimes is saucy), the podi is a universal condiment simply because it’s a powder. Unlike every other green powder that claims of being a superfood, is often mass produced and reduced to a monolith, insists on healing your gut, and features endlessly on TikTok and Instagram’s ‘clean eating videos’, this greens powder (and not green powder) is not for bulking nutrition into your diet. It’s definitely not a nutritional supplement. It does have endless potential, however.

Earlier this week, I wrote about potential and not being able to realise it sometimes. Or not knowing what potential means in the face of creative promise. I’ve been so preoccupied with potential, its promise and purpose; in thinking constantly about what must come next; and in trying to tend to the unkempt garden of my mind that I absentmindedly looked at the bundle of murungai keerai and mint and thought ‘greens podi’. Even in the most hopeless of times, my mind drifts to making connections about food across bridges, rivers, and continents. It’s certainly one potential of myself that I’ve realised.

So even if this greens podi is a labour of my love (food), it’s also equally a paean to purpose (cooking, art, creative project). Making this podi is a bit of a faff(!), but its applications are everlasting: you can throw it on a bed of hot rice and ghee; into mayo as a sandwich spread; toss it with hot fries, potato wedges, or popcorn; add it to hot butter before you fry an egg; sprinkle it onto kanji/congee, risotto, and oats; mix into gooseberry mor; onto hummus and labneh; as a dry rub for meats; and into crackers and cheese scones.

Something about this podi also screams good intentions. Maybe because it uses up the spinach (and other herbs) that’s currently rotting inside your fridge. It’s also densely green, signalling verdant bounty, which means it’s always there for you, sitting inside a glass bottle and waiting to be used up. Make in advance, use it to break the monotony of meals or to just sustain yourself.