Pounded, not machine-ground

A podi is not a spice mix. It is a household's memory of heat, roast and salt, held in a jar and spooned onto rice at the start of a meal. Ours comes from one kitchen in Andhra, and it has not changed much.

The chillies come first

Guntur chillies are bought whole and sun-dried on the terrace, not in a dryer. Sun takes longer and gives a slower, rounder heat — the kind that arrives after the flavour rather than instead of it. They are wiped by hand, stem by stem, before anything else happens.

Roasted in small batches

Each ingredient is roasted separately on a heavy iron pan, because chana dal and urad dal do not finish at the same moment and nothing here is roasted to a schedule. The kitchen tells you when it is ready long before a timer would.

Then the rolu

A stone mortar bruises rather than shears. It keeps the oils in the lentils where a steel blade would heat them out, which is the whole reason a hand-pounded podi smells the way it does when the jar is first opened. It is slower and it is harder work, and it is not negotiable.

Nothing is added to make it last longer, look redder, or weigh more. If it is not in your own kitchen, it is not in the jar.

Made to order, sealed the same day

Nothing sits in a warehouse waiting to be sold. Each batch is roasted and pounded the week it ships and sealed in food-grade jars within hours, so what reaches you is as close to fresh off the pan as post allows.

What we ask of you

Keep the jar dry, away from the stove and out of direct sun, and always use a dry spoon. Moisture — not time — is the only thing that spoils a good podi.