Natu Sakrai

How native sugar or ‘Natu Sakrai’ is made at Kavindapadi in Erode

Along with Pongal, we travel to Kavindapadi in Erode district, famous for organic native sugar, a
delicious alternative to commercial jaggery and white sugar.

KKN Nallasamy has consumed white sugar with his tea for only three months in his lifetime.

The 72-year-old farmer prefers to use native sugar made right next to his sugarcane fields in
Kavindapady village in Erode district, 98 km from Coimbatore. “About 20 years ago a terrible drought
hit us and our crops failed,” he recalls. “I couldn’t make Natu Sakkarai (native sugar) and hence had
to buy white sugar. But after three months I stopped using it,” he pauses, laughing about how it
didn’t feel or taste quite right.

Kavindapadi is the major supplier of indigenous sugar in the state. Sugarcane fields are spread
throughout the village – the strapping purple stalks are well fed by the lower Bhavani canal. “Our
country’s sugar is used for sweetening” Panchamirtham In the Palani Murugan temple,” says
Nallasamy’s son KKN Easwaramurthy. The 45-year-old manages 12 acres of crops, and also makes and
sells native sugar.

“Kavindpadi has a population of about 10,000, of which about 2,000 of us are engaged in
agriculture,” he says. There are two major white sugar mills in the vicinity of the village; Irony in a
place known to native Chinese.

“Many farmers sell their sugarcane to mills, while some sell their crop to commercial jaggery units in
the region,” explains Eshwarmurthy, “as their mother walks in to offer us tea – along with native
sugar.”

Sugar adds a mellow nutty flavor to the tea, something Ishwaramurthy swears by. “It has grown in
popularity over the past decade, which is why I decided to sell it on Facebook,” he explains.
Sugarcane Jaggery Powder Page, which he started in 2015, is a direct link between farmer and
consumer. “If I sell through an agent in my village, the product will change three hands before it
reaches the consumer, and I will earn very little,” he says.

Read also | A school teacher popularized the Central Travancore jaggery and started a sweet
revolution

And so he started his own brand, being the first in his village to do so. “Traditionally, Pongal was
made with Natu Sakkarai“Jaggery is the same, made into balls,” he says. Somewhere along the way,
there is also a jaggery, perhaps because of its shape – ‘Acchu Vellam’, which is shaped into small
rectangles. – Gained in popularity.

“Over the years, business units started adding white sugar when making molasses, and people got
used to an unnaturally sweetened version,” he explains.

soothing concoction

About a kilometer away from his farm, M Maranayakkar is looking after his farm work. It is a
cloudless day, and the sun is raining down on us. S Sengottaiyan and his eight-member team are
preparing a batch of 90 kg indigenous sugar. The 67-year-old owns a wooden sugarcane crusher, and
works for farmers in the region. Once hired, he, along with his team, sets up an earthen stove in the
landowner’s field, harvests sugarcane and turns it into sandy-brown native sugar.

“About 100 kilograms of sugar is released from five hundred liters of juice,” explains Sengottayan,
who moves into a giant pan made of mild steel – it can hold 1,000 liters of water – where the
sugarcane juice boils, releasing the sweet smell.

The juice boils for two hours; 500 g of baking soda and 100 g of calcium carbonate are mixed at
different intervals; 50 ml of coconut oil is drizzled just before extinguishing the fire. Sengottan stirs
the shimmering mixture with a giant ladle.

After reducing to half the quantity, the conch is transferred to another container

After the quantity is reduced to half, the mixture is transferred to another container. photo Credit:
Shiv Saravanan

“Be careful now,” his wife Selmmal gives us a warning sign. “One drop of it can pierce the skin.” But
she casually swirls around it, sending several waves through the liquid—which has now reached the
consistency of honey—with another ladle.

The quantity of juice is reduced to half. Suddenly there is a commotion between them – it’s time.
They collect from the pot: four of them put it in a similar skillet. In a quick move, the semi-solid
beauty slides into the waiting container. Sengottayan quickly mixes it up with a wooden instrument.
The golden, sticky substance changes color right in front of our eyes. “It will be powdery in 30
minutes,” Sellammal tells us.
Sengottayan takes out a small piece from the ladle and offers it to us to taste: he calls it Javu Mittai
(gummy candy). It sticks to our fingers when we pull it to eat. Mittai Intoxicating – imagine the
sweetness of a hundred cane sugar condensing into a viscous concentrate that melts in the mouth.
“Well, isn’t it?” Laughing Sengottaiyan. “I get to eat this every day.”