Puttu is a steamed cylinder of rice flour and coconut, and it is one of Kerala's defining breakfasts. Layers of coarse, moistened rice flour are packed alternately with grated coconut into a tube and steamed until the whole thing sets into a soft, crumbly column that slides out intact and then breaks apart easily on the plate. It is plain by design: bland, gently sweet from the coconut, built to be a sponge for whatever it is served with, which is most often a black chickpea kadala curry or, on a sweeter morning, ripe banana and sugar.
The make is about layering and steam, with no frying and no oil. Rice flour is dampened with just enough water that it clumps when pressed but still falls loose, the texture being the whole craft, too wet and it turns gummy, too dry and it won't bind. It is spooned into a puttu mould in alternating layers with fresh grated coconut, then set over a pot of boiling water so steam rises through the column and cooks it through. A good puttu unmoulds as a clean cylinder that holds its shape for a moment then crumbles softly under a spoon, with the coconut visible in even bands and the texture light and fluffy rather than dense or wet. Sloppy work shows immediately: a compacted, doughy log because the flour was over-moistened or packed too hard, a dry crumbly mess that won't hold together because it was too dry, or undercooked raw-tasting flour because the steam didn't penetrate. It should taste cooked and clean, with the coconut sweetness running through it.
What it is eaten with is what changes the meal. The savory default is kadala curry, a soupy black chickpea gravy whose spice and liquid soak into the dry crumb and complete it; with banana and sugar, sometimes a splash of coconut milk, it turns into a sweet breakfast instead. The flour itself varies regionally, with wheat or ragi standing in for rice in some households, shifting the color and flavor. The kadala curry it leans on is a substantial dish in its own right and deserves its own article rather than being crowded in here. On its own, puttu is deliberately understated: a steamed, coconut-streaked cylinder whose value is in soaking up everything around it.