“The sound of curds falling on a heap of rice is the loveliest sound in the world,” wrote the Indian author R.K. Narayan of curd rice, a dish so simple that its name doubles as the recipe. Narayan, a staunch vegetarian, called his favorite dish a “cleansing food,” and in 1956 made himself a bowl after accidentally eating pepperoni, which he mistook for tomatoes.
Named thayir sadam in Tamil Nadu, mosaranna in Karnataka, and dahi chawl in North India, along with infinite other monikers, the humblest expression of curd rice contains the recipe in its name: leftover rice and chilled curd or prebiotic yogurt are combined, salted, and promptly eaten. But lashings of tadka, the torrent of spices and curry leaves bloomed in oil, transform the mixture into a deeply savory dish. Because of its probiotic and cooling properties, curd rice is a salve for intense heat and digestion, and is as essential to Indian summer as kesar mangoes.
A Southern Indian proverb affirms that no meal is complete without at least a bite of curd rice.
The dish originated in the region between the 16th and 9th century B.C. Ancient Vedic texts regarded the dish as fitting for the gods, as a temple offering, and for man. Initially, though, only the aristocratic Brahmins, or the ruling class, had access to dairy. The masses settled for a humbler version, replacing the curd with water, which softened the rice into a soup and prevented it from going rancid. As yogurt became more accessible, people began adding curd to the mix. Today, curd rice in its various forms crosses all class divides and is enjoyed equally in street stalls and high-end restaurants.
While it’s not as ubiquitous in other parts of India, Northerners took on the treat as an antidote for sweltering weather. In my Northern Indian home, my mother reserved it for days that called for extra comfort, like when I had a stomach ache or got braces and couldn’t chew. Still, a bowl of curd rice felt like a delicious consolation prize for having a tooth extracted — I’d feign discomfort for days after I healed for a fix.
In the U.S., curd rice is harder to come by, mostly found in homes and Southern Indian restaurants. In 2020, when Vice President Kamala Harris said in a moment of diasporic unity that she, too, grew up eating curd rice, I promptly went to the kitchen and made myself a bowl.
The nearly no-cook dish comes together easily at home and works with most anything. The Tamil iteration of the dish — zapped with tempered mustard seeds, white lentils, dried chiles, and curry leaves — is the most popular form, but there’s no wrong way to make curd rice.
I mix equal parts cooked white basmati (day-old rice works best) with Greek yogurt and salt before adding grated raw vegetables like cucumber, carrots, or beets. I then heat a tablespoon of canola oil in a small pot and add four to five curry leaves with dried chiles and a pinch each of turmeric and mustard seeds. Any kind of chile works, as do red pepper flakes, and you can also opt for ghee, coconut oil, or avocado oil instead of canola.
Curd rice is an excellent vessel for pomegranate seeds, coleslaw mix, or roasted broccoli. Cashews, walnuts, peanuts, and pepitas give the dish much-needed texture and a crown of kale chips, fried onions, dried coconut, fried okra, or crushed papadums provide additional crunch. While mango, lime, or green chile pickles dripping with mustard oil are traditionally added in South Asia, I’ve opted for harissa for heat. For added zing, I’ve chopped pickled jalapeños, kimchi, and giardiniera into my curd rice and finished it with herbs like cilantro, mint, and dill.
Although the dish has rice in its name, you could skip rice altogether by using grains and vegetables to make a different iteration of this comfort food. I’ve served farro mixed with roasted tomato and red pepper curd at a dinner party. Sauteed, riced cauliflower makes a hearty base for a carb-free curd “rice” studded with masala peas. For mix-ins, virtually anything goes — from braised beans to gobi aloo, or cumin-laced cauliflower and potatoes, to a jar of chickpeas. Çılbır, or Turkish poached eggs, inspires my favorite rendition: I mix the garlicky yogurt with rice before adding the runny eggs, herbs, and a generous drizzle of Aleppo butter.
The naturally lumpy texture of curd rice may invoke uncertainty, but fried curd rice is sure to convert even the biggest skeptics. The recipe calls for cooking whipped yogurt, which lightly lacquers each grain of rice much like egg or mayonnaise in fried rice. For tahdig-inspired curd rice, pan fry chilled, pressed cubes of basmati or sushi rice until golden and slather with a peppery, dill-specked yogurt. This showstopper of a side pairs beautifully with fatty roast salmon, meaty tomato-based braises, and more.
Yes, curd rice is known for the reprieve it provides from summer heat, but it’s a dish that can be enjoyed year round. As we head into fall, I can’t wait to eat curd rice served over warm butternut squash daal or tangy pumpkin sabzi.
Mehr Singh is a food and culture reporter based in New York. Her work appears in Bon Appétit, Food52, and other publications.
