Do you know the thengai-poo/தேங்காய் பூ? The “flower” which isn’t a flower really, more like a coconut sprouting, an internal self-making with the water and flesh of a mature coconut becoming this round spongy yellow-coated thing that tastes at once of coconut, coconut oil and like nothing you’ve ever had before. If you’ve ever found one while breaking a coconut for cooking or offering at a temple, you’ve found luck—or so it’s believed. You’ll get married, you’ll get that job–someone in the family is pregnant! These are the gifts the sprouted coconut augurs.
The coconut itself is a thing of tremendous and vastly varied symbolism, we all know. It’s the ego—that hard shell, so hard to break, is the reason we throw and crack it in self-offering. But that very hard shell is equally a sign of resolute, un-swayed character. The coconut’s untouched and pure waters are Ganga-jal: water of the sacred Ganga. Its white concave flesh is nothing if it’s not purity, perfection. Its three eyes are our two and Siva’s third—or the transcendent turiya, that state beyond waking, dreaming, and sleeping, that knowledge of “Self in its single existence, in whom all phenomena dissolve” [Sri Aurobindo, translation of the Mandukya Upanishad, Verse 7]. It is man and it is the atman, it is the atman in man, and it is a dissolution of the notion of atman and man. Sri Ramakrishna spoke often of the limitations of the mind in knowing things beyond itself: “Once a salt doll went to measure the depth of the ocean. No sooner did it enter the water than it melted. Now, who would tell how deep the ocean was?” [from: The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna]. Likewise, the coconut is a sign of extents and limits.
It’s a crazy thing that we use the word “coconut” to berate those we see as cultural sell-outs [you know, brown on the outside, white on the inside] but that, too, stands to show how much we tend to think of the coconut as alter ego, representation of self. That’s the connective thread, if there is one.
And the “flower”? Well, it looks flower-like I guess though I’ve always thought of it as thengai-panju, coconut sponge, on account of its spongy-juicy texture. But the “flower” descriptor mystified me. Naming traditions are usually very precise in their way, and there’s a logic somewhere even if it doesn’t reproduce a Linnean or botanical one. Was it just that the broken shell with the thengai-panju looked like a flower? Other Indian languages use the same “phool” or “poovu”/ flower descriptor, but then still other clues came from Malayalam: this is thenga-pongu, where “ponguva” means to swell or to rise–a near perfect description of what the sprout really is. Also the Yalpanam [Jaffna] term “poornam,” which is of course Sanskrit-origin referring to wholeness and fulfilment–equally apt meanings. These got me wondering if the contemporary Tamil “poovu” is a colloquialism that originated with either pongu or (more likely) poornam, in much the way we write on grocery lists “கொ” for just kotthamalli (coriander) or “து” for thuvaram (toor dal). So poornam became just “பூ/poo” which of course is “flower.” I have no confirmation, just a notion of this possibility. [Thank you, Sarika Jeevan & Luxshy Guna for these thinking threads.]
The thengai-poo is a push-cart vendor snack in the best of our hawker food traditions of selling healthy local treats where all else would sell packaged chips. But who thinks of such things when one is 8 and Appa is buying you thengai panju on the way to the beach? You just gobble it up and run away to melt in the sea.
Things to do with the Thenga-poo
1. Just eat it!
Sprouted coconut is rich in nutrients–of course, it’s the start of a whole coconut tree. The easiest thing to do is just eat it, and find joy in that unusual mix of spongy-juicy crispness and those various coconutty tastes. Some believe it increases pitta in the body, the hotter of the 3 ayurvedic doshas, and so is best had in small quantities [This from Akshata Nayak in Tulunadu]. No problem, we usually only get these in small quantities and even a few pieces are quite satisfying so there’s never usually a question of eating more.
2. Add it to a roasted peanut teatime snack
But if the sprout you get is on the more mature side of tender, or you have picky eaters who don’t go for such textures–well, there are other ways. Shanthini over at Pink Lemon Tree adds it to a roasted peanut teatime snack. This, or variations of this, are house-favorites: chillies, onions, tomatoes, lime juice and salt–and now, pieces of the thengai-poo, lightly fried.
3. Make it a side-dish
Shanthini also suggests a little side dish of a poriyal, so that’s what you see here. Just some onions, minced green chillies and ginger, a tempering of mustard seeds and nice fresh curry leaves. Turmeric powder, salt. Done. The whole recipe is below, but if you know anything about South Indian poriyals, really you don’t need it.
The coconut shell in which the thengai-poo arrives will likely still have a thin layer of dry-ish copra-like coconut, which will be easy enough to peel off, chop, and use, too.
Thengai-poo poriyal
Ingredients
- 1 tablespoon coconut oil
- ½ teaspoon urad dal
- ½ teaspoon mustard seeds
- 1 broken dry red chilli
- 1 sprig fresh curry leaves
- 1 green chilli, minced
- 1 teaspoon minced ginger
- 2 small shallots
- 2-3 coconut sprouts
- ¼ teaspoon turmeric powder
- Salt to taste
- A squeeze of lime juice
- Fresh coriander leaves to garnish
Instructions
- Chop the shallots and coconut sprouts. Set aside.
- Heat the oil in a small pan. Once it’s smoking hot, add the urad dal, mustard seeds, and dry red chilli. Let the spices crackle and pop.
- Follow with the curry leaves and then the ginger and green chilli. Fry for a few seconds (do not allow these to burn) and add the chopped shallots.
- Fry the shallots until translucent, then add the coconut sprout bits. Add turmeric powder and salt and toss gently to mix. Sprinkle a little water if the poriyal looks like it might burn easily. Reduce heat and cover for just a minute or so.
- Turn off the heat, squeeze the lime juice over top and add the coriander leaves.
- Mix well and serve hot.
Thank you! Added it to my salad and it was just yum!
I’m so very glad to hear it! It’s such a simple but unusual addition, right? Bet it was lovely in that salad.