Omnivore (2024) s01e06 Episode Script
Rice
[no audible dialogue]
[child, in Malayalam] Why are you
keeping them in separate boxes?
Because we're exchanging these
seeds with other farmers.
If this seed is only with me,
what happens if it is destroyed?
It can only survive
if others have it.
Saving them is our
responsibility.
[child] This one
is so beautiful.
How do you identify them?
They all look similar.
- I can identify my children, right?
- Mmm.
I have taken care of them for
many years, so I know them.
[Redzepi, in English]
Our food is the weather.
Each bite we take is a mix
of sunlight and shadow.
A dance of wind and rain.
Rice may be our best example.
It mirrors the world's
ever-changing climate,
encapsulated in every
grain we grow and consume.
For millennia, it's been
the lifeblood for billions.
Today, half the world could
not survive without it.
But rice is so much
more than fuel.
It reflects our culture.
It powers our traditions,
and it forms a starchy white canvas for
some of our most delicious creations.
At the heart of these
tastes and traditions,
thrives a singular
force of nature.
The monsoon.
The powerful concentration
of wind and water
that sweeps across
Asia each summer,
gives birth to most
of the world's rice.
As climate change rewrites the
rules of this ancient cycle,
rice stands at the forefront
of this uncertain moment.
It's a reminder of
the fragile thread
that binds our food to
the whims of nature,
challenging all of us,
farmers, cooks and eaters,
to adapt in the face
of shifting tides.
Can the work of farmers
help turn the tide?
Can individual people take
on such a massive task?
Can rice weather
the storm ahead?
- [child, in Malayalam] Father?
- [father] Yes?
When will you come back?
[father] It's a long journey.
[Redzepi, in English]
For me personally,
rice is probably the
strongest food memory I have.
My Albanian auntie's chicken
rice, cooked in a wood-fired oven.
The grains glistening
from chicken fat.
The steam that rose
into the dining room.
The sweet smell of cooked rice.
This dish is the
reason I became a cook.
In the world of noma, rice
is our daily touchstone.
It's the one constant in the
chaos of running a restaurant.
Every day, at 11:00, the bowl of
rice becomes an act of communion
between 90 team members from
all corners of the globe.
- Spicy. [Chuckles]
- You need it spicy.
One that forms a bond between
the busy bike paths of Copenhagen
and the serene paddies
of Southern India.
[father, in Malayalam]
Look, we have big carrots,
but your mother
brought two tiny ones.
- [laughs]
- [mother] What did your father just say?
That you brought tiny carrots.
[father chuckles]
[father speaks indistinctly]
Why are you tearing them up?
Rudhraa finished her
job quickly, didn't she?
Mmm. That's why she's
just sitting there.
[both laughing]
[Jayakrishnan] When I took up
farming, it was for our health.
My son, Bhagath,
had health issues
when he was just two years old.
The doctor said
my son's condition would
worsen as he got older.
I was reading about
food a lot those days,
and I learned about the nutritional
value of traditional rice.
I had only heard about some traditional
rice varieties like Rakthashali.
I had no idea how to
source or find them.
And then one day, Rakthashali
fell into my hands.
Rakthashali rice
looks beautiful,
it's red in color, and it
has many health benefits.
[Reshma] Is it sweet
enough? What do you think?
- [Reshma] Is it sweet?
- It's very sweet.
- Is it enough?
- Yes.
[Jayakrishnan] I decided to quit
my job and go into organic farming.
Because of my wife's job, we
had some financial security.
That gave me courage.
She is my companion, and we
make our decisions together.
[Reshma, in English] When we
got into this organic farming,
I knew it was very risky.
But my husband, I felt that
a boldness was there in him.
I knew that he would
see it through with me.
Our mind-set, our health,
we owe it all to this rice.
We Indians have been consuming
rice for a long period.
It's a main source
of our energy.
When we make use of
water, steam and fire,
it's going to change
the rice to any form
showing all these various
aspects hidden in it.
[Jayakrishnan speaks
Malayalam indistinctly]
[Reshma, in English] But the
future of rice is not stable,
and we are very worried.
[reporter 1] Soaring food prices
could be set to rise even higher
thanks to rice.
[reporter 2] From China
to the United States,
rice production has fallen.
What is causing it?
Poor weather in China,
decrease in output at Pakistan,
and the ongoing war in Ukraine.
Food is the new
casualty of this war.
[Redzepi] It's hard to believe that
the journey to our dinner plates
is so deeply entwined
with distant events.
A war across Europe
or a devastating soybean
failure in Brazil.
Who might have imagined
that the fate of a meal
could hinge on the monsoon
winds sweeping across India,
determining whether families
feast or face scarcity.
With every passing year, our
food grows more dependent
on distant circumstances
beyond our control.
And that burden is
carried by the farmers.
Uh, this is the east.
[Jayakrishnan speaks Malayalam]
Let's plant all black
rice varieties here.
[Leneesh] And Nasar
Bath rice goes there.
It will make the edges of
the field look colorful.
If the climate is favorable,
they will be ready at the
beginning of harvest month.
I'm hopeful that nature
will be kind to us.
Kerala used to be home
to about 6,000 traditional
varieties of rice.
But today we only have
about 200 varieties left.
When I started organic farming,
people thought it was foolish.
"You must be mad," they said.
Because organic farming is more
labor-intensive than chemical farming,
and the yield is usually lower
than farming done with chemicals.
But today our society has
started to see its importance.
Survival of nature is just as
crucial as our own survival.
[Redzepi, in English] There
are endless stories to tell
about rice around the world.
But India carves
out its own chapter.
It's here, where the might of
the monsoon hits especially hard,
that 40% of the global
rice trade begins.
[indistinct chatter]
[Singh, in Punjabi] Approximately
10,000 to 15,000 bags of rice arrive
at the market daily.
But recently, the quantity
has been low due to weather.
From here it is sent to Europe, America,
the Middle East, Dubai, and Iran.
Iraq as well.
Our rice goes all
across the world.
The demand is incredibly high.
Come on, let's start.
- 4,000.
- 4,200.
4,250.
- [bidder] 4,300.
- 4,300.
4,500.
4,625. Twice. Keep going.
4,625! Final.
[Redzepi, in English] India is a
powerhouse of the world's rice exporters.
A veritable breadbasket
that sends millions of pounds of
rice across the earth, annually.
Everyone, from the small family
farms to the industrial giants,
must play to the
tune of the monsoon,
where too much or too little
rain could disrupt everything.
Reminding us of the delicate
balance between nature's generosity
and our ever-growing appetite.
[chanting]
The era known as the Green Revolution
was one of the most pivotal moments
in the history of agriculture.
It was a radical reimagining
of how we grow food.
Before this period,
farming meant traditional knowledge
passed down through millennia.
But in the sixties, with famine
looming over India and far beyond,
scientists unleashed
a series of new tools,
from high-yielding hybrid
seeds to powerful pesticides,
that altered the ten thousand-year history
of rice farming seemingly overnight.
In a matter of years,
farmers were harvesting twice
as much rice from their paddies.
By some estimates, hundreds of
millions were saved from starvation.
It was a clear win for humanity,
but it cast long shadows.
This big arsenal of
high-yielding seeds
and the cocktail of
chemicals carries a cost.
The loss of biodiversity, the
depletion of water tables,
the pollution of
rivers and soil beds.
A spike in cancer and
other health issues.
Did we outsmart nature and find a way
to sustain our growing population?
Or in the long run, did we create
more problems than we solved
for future generations?
[Leneesh, in Malayalam] We are getting
more orders for our rice seeds now.
[Jayakrishnan] A lot
of people are asking.
[Leneesh] We have received
an order even today.
[Jayakrishnan] Let's borrow
a scale from the store.
[Leneesh speaks Malayalam]
[Leneesh] I have many friends who
are interested in agriculture.
But I was drawn to Jayakrishnan's
entrepreneurial spirit.
We've been working
together for five years.
Our shared thirst for knowledge
about traditional seeds
keeps us connected.
Each seed opens a
world of curiosity.
Look at the Kuruva rice seed,
which we sow as a summer crop.
[Jayakrishnan] If there's
the possibility of a drought,
this seed will flower
10-15 days early.
From that, a farmer can
predict if a drought is coming.
A traditional seed creates this
incredible web of communication.
A chain from soil to plant,
from plant to farmer.
Traditional seeds have a stronger survival
strategy against changing weather.
They have a wonderful
capacity to adapt.
Even if this is the case,
rice is in a big crisis
when unexpected
weather problems occur.
[thunder rumbling]
[Redzepi, in English] The monsoon
stands as nature's paradox.
A life giver that holds the
power to both nurture
and devastate.
It's driven by a dramatic shift
in winds where the skies burst
releasing months'
worth of rain in weeks.
Turning arid land
into vibrant fields.
Billions of gallons of water breathe
life into crops and replenish rivers,
shaping the traditions and
destinies of an entire continent.
Yet the might of the monsoon
is not always merciful.
Its raging torrents can flood.
In its absence, the
earth cracks, parched,
affecting everyone who relies on nature's
capricious balance for their way of life.
And the wild swings between too much
and too little have no end in sight.
[in Paniya] It's cloudy.
It might rain soon.
[Leneesh, in Malayalam] After sowing, it
takes 10-15 days for the roots to sprout
and the seedling to be
ready for re-planting.
In rice farming, everything
revolves around water.
Paddy fields themselves
are reservoirs of water.
Water must be filled and
drained at the right time.
What we fear the most
is unexpected rain,
which is now a big issue.
Because it puts our
entire harvest at risk.
The current weather
conditions are making
the farming calendar irrelevant.
[Redzepi, in English] For
millennia, the rhythms of rural Asia
have been set by
the rice calendar.
In the spring, seeds are
sown in prepared beds.
By early summer
the small stocks are transplanted
to large irrigated paddies,
where they'll spend
more than a hundred days
maturing into fully
grown rice plants.
During that time,
farmers flood rice fields
as an insurance policy
against pests and weeds.
A process unchanged
for thousands of years.
To walk the path of JK and Leneesh
is to engage in a test of endurance.
A trial of skill and backbreaking
work and deep faith in the elements.
All for an ingredient that so many
cultures have come to depend on.
[people chattering]
[Redzepi] I have never met
anyone who doesn't like rice.
And I've met all eaters under
the sun in my time at noma.
But rice?
Feed an infant rice, often one
bite, and they are hooked for life.
In my home, in the
cool north of Denmark,
where rye bread and
liver paste are staples,
the omnipresence of rice
in other parts of the world
is unimaginable to many.
But it's the stuff
of everyday life,
devoured from the first light of early
morning to the last call of night.
And virtually every
moment in between.
The kernel of rice has morphed
into so many creations.
Thousands of flavors,
all from this one grain.
Around the world, rice is king.
It's 5:00 p.m. at a
night market in Bali.
Food vendors are turning
rice into a spread.
A woman fires up a wok,
adds rice, meat, and vegetables
to its searing belly.
In Spain, cooks are
simmering paella.
In Korea, rice is being
crisped up into bibimbap.
Fluffy jollof rice is shared at the
dinner table in a Nigerian household.
Rice dishes might differ in name
or in the mix of ingredients,
but somehow they're kindred
spirits in any kitchen,
united by this simple grain
turned into something delicious.
In a world of differences,
we can all agree that there's
no disagreement over rice.
It's universally loved.
A shared language
of deliciousness.
A reminder of simple pleasures.
And to the power of food that can draw
us, ever so slightly, a little bit closer.
[people chattering]
[Jayakrishnan, in Malayalam] When I
started organic rice paddy farming,
the only traditional rice variety
I knew of was Navara rice.
Seeds like Navara
are centuries old.
And maybe that's why these seeds
have a deeper understanding
of the changing weather.
They are more resilient.
With this knowledge,
we are collecting traditional
seeds from all over India.
Climate change has accelerated
the pace of my search
for traditional seeds.
I realized that the farmers
who have seeds today
might not have them tomorrow.
[in Hindi] Jayakrishnan, you have
traveled a long way to come here.
How many varieties
of rice do you have?
- I have more than 200 varieties of rice
- [speaks Hindi]
- with me.
- [speaks Hindi]
Here, take a look at
our traditional variety.
Give it a shot in your
area and see how it fares.
Who knows, maybe in the future
these varieties will become
dominant in our rice fields.
The traditional varieties
may be our only hope.
- [in English] Thank you.
- [Leneesh] Thank you so much.
Thank you.
[Reshma] Jayakrishnan and I started
farming to look after the children.
But when he started traveling suddenly,
I was worried and slightly hurt.
I didn't quite like the concept of
him traveling around. [chuckles]
But it's only of late that
I too started understanding
that there was a need to
conserve these varieties.
It's not enough that a few
people alone can have all this,
you have to share
it with others too.
[farmer] What are you growing
this season in your area?
We are focusing more on
black rice and Rakthashali.
Okay.
There is a lot of rains here.
That's why we have developed
one variety called SH
[speaks indistinctly]
[Jayakrishnan, in Malayalam]
Human beings are believed to be
the most intelligent species.
Many times I have felt the opposite
because our greed is insatiable.
We don't value nature's abundant blessings
until we end up losing all of it.
[radio static]
[radio chatter]
[radio host, in English] A second
cyclonic storm made landfall
in the Indian state of Odisha.
This is the second cyclonic storm
that the country is witnessing
in the span of a few weeks.
Cyclone Yaas weakened into
a severe cyclonic storm
after pounding the coast of
Odisha and neighboring West Bengal
with wind speeds exceeding
130 kilometers per hour.
Yaas, which was earlier
classified as a very severe
[in Malayalam] The weather
appears to be quite terrible.
- A cyclone has formed.
- [Jayakrishnan] Mm-hmm.
[Leneesh] We are supposed to
begin harvesting tomorrow,
but it appears rain will
continue all through the week.
We'll need to find
some laborers.
I hope people will be willing
to work in the rain. [Chuckles]
If it's not harvested in time
our field will be ruined.
[thunder rumbling]
[Leneesh] It is said when that
mountain is filled with smoke
rain is guaranteed.
[thunder rumbling]
Look at the mountain.
- Hmm.
- It's just smoldering.
[Redzepi, in English]
Imagine if you can
that every planting season is a bet
that farmers place on the future.
It's a high-stakes gamble for all of us,
but especially for the people who feed us.
We hope for the best,
but nobody knows what
awaits in the clouds.
A storm too fierce,
a frost too early,
or a plague of pests too hungry.
Any of these can drastically
alter what we bring to our table.
The forces of nature, especially
the unpredictable monsoon,
remain untamed by
the human hand.
It wasn't long ago that
crop failure became
an unwelcome addition
to our vocabulary.
Now it's a constant backdrop in
our conversations about climate.
And the forecast signals that crop
disasters will be the new normal.
Could the unthinkable happen?
Could we one day
be without rice?
At the heart of this question is a
scene bustling with different players,
seeking answers that will yield a
prosperous future for the grain.
All possibilities
are on the table.
Rice grown in the ocean.
Rice grown in the desert.
Rice grown in the dark.
The International Rice Research Institute
stands at the center of this movement.
A pivotal force in rice innovation
since the Green Revolution.
Countless others
have joined the fray.
The quest for a
silver bullet is on.
But is there one?
For how long can we
keep refining seeds?
And is the answer to continue down
the path of decreasing diversity?
Would it be too much to
hope for the opposite?
An explosion of diversity,
where each grain of rice is suited
to its place and its people.
That's where farmers
like JK come in.
That's the work they're doing.
Despite the
different approaches,
everyone agrees we
need to do something.
[Leneesh, in Malayalam] This clear
sky today brings hope and joy.
But there is concern
at the same time.
From our experience, we know that
disaster can strike at any moment.
So the decision to harvest
immediately and salvage what we can
comes from many painful lessons.
We hope this year's
crops will be saved.
But a clear sky doesn't mean
that we're out of the woods yet.
We are expecting
more rain anytime.
Normally after harvesting,
we leave the sheaves in the paddy
field to dry before threshing.
But that's not possible now.
The sheaves need to be
threshed into grains
as quickly as possible.
[Jayakrishnan] I'm doing my
best to keep the farming going.
But for how long?
For every seed
sown in the field,
there is worry until it returns.
Many farmers have suffered
losses due to climate change.
For us, this rice
itself will be enough.
[Redzepi, in English]
Despite the best efforts
of millions of rice
farmers across India,
this year's haul wasn't enough.
In 2023, a temporary export
ban was put in place.
The main reason for the ban,
fear of El Niño and the
uncertain weather ahead.
Another reminder of the
power of the elements
that shape the way we eat,
and the surprising ways
that food connects us all.
[chattering, laughing]
[Leneesh, in Malayalam]
Shall we eat?
Ruthu, take the stew.
[Reshma] He wants the
salad mixed with sambar.
- [Leneesh] What?
- Mixed with sambar.
[Leneesh] Mix sambar.
Here, take sambar.
[Jayakrishnan] Ambu,
here, papad here.
- [Reshma] Papad for Ambu.
- Papad for Ambu.
[Reshma] Papad.
- [Jayakrishnan] Can I give it to Ambu?
- [Reshma] Correct.
[Jayakrishnan] For some time now,
we've been living a beautiful life.
It is a blessing of nature.
Climate change
could destroy that.
[Leneesh] Let me check how
gifted Mom's hands are.
Mom's gifted hands or
whose gifted hands?
[Reshma] If it is
good, then it is mine.
[all laugh]
[Jayakrishnan] But
climate change is actually
strengthening our
relationship with rice.
[Leneesh] It's a little spicy.
Yes, need water.
[all laughing, chattering]
[Jayakrishnan] Let's
say one of our children
came down with an
illness tomorrow
or some tragedy befell them.
We would hold them close and try every
possible method to keep them safe.
Rice farming is an integral
part of our identity.
So, in order to preserve it,
we must hold rice close to our hearts
and spare no effort to care for it.
[Rudhraa] Father?
Why do you love rice so much?
- See this seed?
- [Rudhraa] Mmm.
Our ancestors used to say,
"Don't eat the seeds even
when poverty is at its worst."
We need to save these seeds
for your grandchildren.
[child, in Malayalam] Why are you
keeping them in separate boxes?
Because we're exchanging these
seeds with other farmers.
If this seed is only with me,
what happens if it is destroyed?
It can only survive
if others have it.
Saving them is our
responsibility.
[child] This one
is so beautiful.
How do you identify them?
They all look similar.
- I can identify my children, right?
- Mmm.
I have taken care of them for
many years, so I know them.
[Redzepi, in English]
Our food is the weather.
Each bite we take is a mix
of sunlight and shadow.
A dance of wind and rain.
Rice may be our best example.
It mirrors the world's
ever-changing climate,
encapsulated in every
grain we grow and consume.
For millennia, it's been
the lifeblood for billions.
Today, half the world could
not survive without it.
But rice is so much
more than fuel.
It reflects our culture.
It powers our traditions,
and it forms a starchy white canvas for
some of our most delicious creations.
At the heart of these
tastes and traditions,
thrives a singular
force of nature.
The monsoon.
The powerful concentration
of wind and water
that sweeps across
Asia each summer,
gives birth to most
of the world's rice.
As climate change rewrites the
rules of this ancient cycle,
rice stands at the forefront
of this uncertain moment.
It's a reminder of
the fragile thread
that binds our food to
the whims of nature,
challenging all of us,
farmers, cooks and eaters,
to adapt in the face
of shifting tides.
Can the work of farmers
help turn the tide?
Can individual people take
on such a massive task?
Can rice weather
the storm ahead?
- [child, in Malayalam] Father?
- [father] Yes?
When will you come back?
[father] It's a long journey.
[Redzepi, in English]
For me personally,
rice is probably the
strongest food memory I have.
My Albanian auntie's chicken
rice, cooked in a wood-fired oven.
The grains glistening
from chicken fat.
The steam that rose
into the dining room.
The sweet smell of cooked rice.
This dish is the
reason I became a cook.
In the world of noma, rice
is our daily touchstone.
It's the one constant in the
chaos of running a restaurant.
Every day, at 11:00, the bowl of
rice becomes an act of communion
between 90 team members from
all corners of the globe.
- Spicy. [Chuckles]
- You need it spicy.
One that forms a bond between
the busy bike paths of Copenhagen
and the serene paddies
of Southern India.
[father, in Malayalam]
Look, we have big carrots,
but your mother
brought two tiny ones.
- [laughs]
- [mother] What did your father just say?
That you brought tiny carrots.
[father chuckles]
[father speaks indistinctly]
Why are you tearing them up?
Rudhraa finished her
job quickly, didn't she?
Mmm. That's why she's
just sitting there.
[both laughing]
[Jayakrishnan] When I took up
farming, it was for our health.
My son, Bhagath,
had health issues
when he was just two years old.
The doctor said
my son's condition would
worsen as he got older.
I was reading about
food a lot those days,
and I learned about the nutritional
value of traditional rice.
I had only heard about some traditional
rice varieties like Rakthashali.
I had no idea how to
source or find them.
And then one day, Rakthashali
fell into my hands.
Rakthashali rice
looks beautiful,
it's red in color, and it
has many health benefits.
[Reshma] Is it sweet
enough? What do you think?
- [Reshma] Is it sweet?
- It's very sweet.
- Is it enough?
- Yes.
[Jayakrishnan] I decided to quit
my job and go into organic farming.
Because of my wife's job, we
had some financial security.
That gave me courage.
She is my companion, and we
make our decisions together.
[Reshma, in English] When we
got into this organic farming,
I knew it was very risky.
But my husband, I felt that
a boldness was there in him.
I knew that he would
see it through with me.
Our mind-set, our health,
we owe it all to this rice.
We Indians have been consuming
rice for a long period.
It's a main source
of our energy.
When we make use of
water, steam and fire,
it's going to change
the rice to any form
showing all these various
aspects hidden in it.
[Jayakrishnan speaks
Malayalam indistinctly]
[Reshma, in English] But the
future of rice is not stable,
and we are very worried.
[reporter 1] Soaring food prices
could be set to rise even higher
thanks to rice.
[reporter 2] From China
to the United States,
rice production has fallen.
What is causing it?
Poor weather in China,
decrease in output at Pakistan,
and the ongoing war in Ukraine.
Food is the new
casualty of this war.
[Redzepi] It's hard to believe that
the journey to our dinner plates
is so deeply entwined
with distant events.
A war across Europe
or a devastating soybean
failure in Brazil.
Who might have imagined
that the fate of a meal
could hinge on the monsoon
winds sweeping across India,
determining whether families
feast or face scarcity.
With every passing year, our
food grows more dependent
on distant circumstances
beyond our control.
And that burden is
carried by the farmers.
Uh, this is the east.
[Jayakrishnan speaks Malayalam]
Let's plant all black
rice varieties here.
[Leneesh] And Nasar
Bath rice goes there.
It will make the edges of
the field look colorful.
If the climate is favorable,
they will be ready at the
beginning of harvest month.
I'm hopeful that nature
will be kind to us.
Kerala used to be home
to about 6,000 traditional
varieties of rice.
But today we only have
about 200 varieties left.
When I started organic farming,
people thought it was foolish.
"You must be mad," they said.
Because organic farming is more
labor-intensive than chemical farming,
and the yield is usually lower
than farming done with chemicals.
But today our society has
started to see its importance.
Survival of nature is just as
crucial as our own survival.
[Redzepi, in English] There
are endless stories to tell
about rice around the world.
But India carves
out its own chapter.
It's here, where the might of
the monsoon hits especially hard,
that 40% of the global
rice trade begins.
[indistinct chatter]
[Singh, in Punjabi] Approximately
10,000 to 15,000 bags of rice arrive
at the market daily.
But recently, the quantity
has been low due to weather.
From here it is sent to Europe, America,
the Middle East, Dubai, and Iran.
Iraq as well.
Our rice goes all
across the world.
The demand is incredibly high.
Come on, let's start.
- 4,000.
- 4,200.
4,250.
- [bidder] 4,300.
- 4,300.
4,500.
4,625. Twice. Keep going.
4,625! Final.
[Redzepi, in English] India is a
powerhouse of the world's rice exporters.
A veritable breadbasket
that sends millions of pounds of
rice across the earth, annually.
Everyone, from the small family
farms to the industrial giants,
must play to the
tune of the monsoon,
where too much or too little
rain could disrupt everything.
Reminding us of the delicate
balance between nature's generosity
and our ever-growing appetite.
[chanting]
The era known as the Green Revolution
was one of the most pivotal moments
in the history of agriculture.
It was a radical reimagining
of how we grow food.
Before this period,
farming meant traditional knowledge
passed down through millennia.
But in the sixties, with famine
looming over India and far beyond,
scientists unleashed
a series of new tools,
from high-yielding hybrid
seeds to powerful pesticides,
that altered the ten thousand-year history
of rice farming seemingly overnight.
In a matter of years,
farmers were harvesting twice
as much rice from their paddies.
By some estimates, hundreds of
millions were saved from starvation.
It was a clear win for humanity,
but it cast long shadows.
This big arsenal of
high-yielding seeds
and the cocktail of
chemicals carries a cost.
The loss of biodiversity, the
depletion of water tables,
the pollution of
rivers and soil beds.
A spike in cancer and
other health issues.
Did we outsmart nature and find a way
to sustain our growing population?
Or in the long run, did we create
more problems than we solved
for future generations?
[Leneesh, in Malayalam] We are getting
more orders for our rice seeds now.
[Jayakrishnan] A lot
of people are asking.
[Leneesh] We have received
an order even today.
[Jayakrishnan] Let's borrow
a scale from the store.
[Leneesh speaks Malayalam]
[Leneesh] I have many friends who
are interested in agriculture.
But I was drawn to Jayakrishnan's
entrepreneurial spirit.
We've been working
together for five years.
Our shared thirst for knowledge
about traditional seeds
keeps us connected.
Each seed opens a
world of curiosity.
Look at the Kuruva rice seed,
which we sow as a summer crop.
[Jayakrishnan] If there's
the possibility of a drought,
this seed will flower
10-15 days early.
From that, a farmer can
predict if a drought is coming.
A traditional seed creates this
incredible web of communication.
A chain from soil to plant,
from plant to farmer.
Traditional seeds have a stronger survival
strategy against changing weather.
They have a wonderful
capacity to adapt.
Even if this is the case,
rice is in a big crisis
when unexpected
weather problems occur.
[thunder rumbling]
[Redzepi, in English] The monsoon
stands as nature's paradox.
A life giver that holds the
power to both nurture
and devastate.
It's driven by a dramatic shift
in winds where the skies burst
releasing months'
worth of rain in weeks.
Turning arid land
into vibrant fields.
Billions of gallons of water breathe
life into crops and replenish rivers,
shaping the traditions and
destinies of an entire continent.
Yet the might of the monsoon
is not always merciful.
Its raging torrents can flood.
In its absence, the
earth cracks, parched,
affecting everyone who relies on nature's
capricious balance for their way of life.
And the wild swings between too much
and too little have no end in sight.
[in Paniya] It's cloudy.
It might rain soon.
[Leneesh, in Malayalam] After sowing, it
takes 10-15 days for the roots to sprout
and the seedling to be
ready for re-planting.
In rice farming, everything
revolves around water.
Paddy fields themselves
are reservoirs of water.
Water must be filled and
drained at the right time.
What we fear the most
is unexpected rain,
which is now a big issue.
Because it puts our
entire harvest at risk.
The current weather
conditions are making
the farming calendar irrelevant.
[Redzepi, in English] For
millennia, the rhythms of rural Asia
have been set by
the rice calendar.
In the spring, seeds are
sown in prepared beds.
By early summer
the small stocks are transplanted
to large irrigated paddies,
where they'll spend
more than a hundred days
maturing into fully
grown rice plants.
During that time,
farmers flood rice fields
as an insurance policy
against pests and weeds.
A process unchanged
for thousands of years.
To walk the path of JK and Leneesh
is to engage in a test of endurance.
A trial of skill and backbreaking
work and deep faith in the elements.
All for an ingredient that so many
cultures have come to depend on.
[people chattering]
[Redzepi] I have never met
anyone who doesn't like rice.
And I've met all eaters under
the sun in my time at noma.
But rice?
Feed an infant rice, often one
bite, and they are hooked for life.
In my home, in the
cool north of Denmark,
where rye bread and
liver paste are staples,
the omnipresence of rice
in other parts of the world
is unimaginable to many.
But it's the stuff
of everyday life,
devoured from the first light of early
morning to the last call of night.
And virtually every
moment in between.
The kernel of rice has morphed
into so many creations.
Thousands of flavors,
all from this one grain.
Around the world, rice is king.
It's 5:00 p.m. at a
night market in Bali.
Food vendors are turning
rice into a spread.
A woman fires up a wok,
adds rice, meat, and vegetables
to its searing belly.
In Spain, cooks are
simmering paella.
In Korea, rice is being
crisped up into bibimbap.
Fluffy jollof rice is shared at the
dinner table in a Nigerian household.
Rice dishes might differ in name
or in the mix of ingredients,
but somehow they're kindred
spirits in any kitchen,
united by this simple grain
turned into something delicious.
In a world of differences,
we can all agree that there's
no disagreement over rice.
It's universally loved.
A shared language
of deliciousness.
A reminder of simple pleasures.
And to the power of food that can draw
us, ever so slightly, a little bit closer.
[people chattering]
[Jayakrishnan, in Malayalam] When I
started organic rice paddy farming,
the only traditional rice variety
I knew of was Navara rice.
Seeds like Navara
are centuries old.
And maybe that's why these seeds
have a deeper understanding
of the changing weather.
They are more resilient.
With this knowledge,
we are collecting traditional
seeds from all over India.
Climate change has accelerated
the pace of my search
for traditional seeds.
I realized that the farmers
who have seeds today
might not have them tomorrow.
[in Hindi] Jayakrishnan, you have
traveled a long way to come here.
How many varieties
of rice do you have?
- I have more than 200 varieties of rice
- [speaks Hindi]
- with me.
- [speaks Hindi]
Here, take a look at
our traditional variety.
Give it a shot in your
area and see how it fares.
Who knows, maybe in the future
these varieties will become
dominant in our rice fields.
The traditional varieties
may be our only hope.
- [in English] Thank you.
- [Leneesh] Thank you so much.
Thank you.
[Reshma] Jayakrishnan and I started
farming to look after the children.
But when he started traveling suddenly,
I was worried and slightly hurt.
I didn't quite like the concept of
him traveling around. [chuckles]
But it's only of late that
I too started understanding
that there was a need to
conserve these varieties.
It's not enough that a few
people alone can have all this,
you have to share
it with others too.
[farmer] What are you growing
this season in your area?
We are focusing more on
black rice and Rakthashali.
Okay.
There is a lot of rains here.
That's why we have developed
one variety called SH
[speaks indistinctly]
[Jayakrishnan, in Malayalam]
Human beings are believed to be
the most intelligent species.
Many times I have felt the opposite
because our greed is insatiable.
We don't value nature's abundant blessings
until we end up losing all of it.
[radio static]
[radio chatter]
[radio host, in English] A second
cyclonic storm made landfall
in the Indian state of Odisha.
This is the second cyclonic storm
that the country is witnessing
in the span of a few weeks.
Cyclone Yaas weakened into
a severe cyclonic storm
after pounding the coast of
Odisha and neighboring West Bengal
with wind speeds exceeding
130 kilometers per hour.
Yaas, which was earlier
classified as a very severe
[in Malayalam] The weather
appears to be quite terrible.
- A cyclone has formed.
- [Jayakrishnan] Mm-hmm.
[Leneesh] We are supposed to
begin harvesting tomorrow,
but it appears rain will
continue all through the week.
We'll need to find
some laborers.
I hope people will be willing
to work in the rain. [Chuckles]
If it's not harvested in time
our field will be ruined.
[thunder rumbling]
[Leneesh] It is said when that
mountain is filled with smoke
rain is guaranteed.
[thunder rumbling]
Look at the mountain.
- Hmm.
- It's just smoldering.
[Redzepi, in English]
Imagine if you can
that every planting season is a bet
that farmers place on the future.
It's a high-stakes gamble for all of us,
but especially for the people who feed us.
We hope for the best,
but nobody knows what
awaits in the clouds.
A storm too fierce,
a frost too early,
or a plague of pests too hungry.
Any of these can drastically
alter what we bring to our table.
The forces of nature, especially
the unpredictable monsoon,
remain untamed by
the human hand.
It wasn't long ago that
crop failure became
an unwelcome addition
to our vocabulary.
Now it's a constant backdrop in
our conversations about climate.
And the forecast signals that crop
disasters will be the new normal.
Could the unthinkable happen?
Could we one day
be without rice?
At the heart of this question is a
scene bustling with different players,
seeking answers that will yield a
prosperous future for the grain.
All possibilities
are on the table.
Rice grown in the ocean.
Rice grown in the desert.
Rice grown in the dark.
The International Rice Research Institute
stands at the center of this movement.
A pivotal force in rice innovation
since the Green Revolution.
Countless others
have joined the fray.
The quest for a
silver bullet is on.
But is there one?
For how long can we
keep refining seeds?
And is the answer to continue down
the path of decreasing diversity?
Would it be too much to
hope for the opposite?
An explosion of diversity,
where each grain of rice is suited
to its place and its people.
That's where farmers
like JK come in.
That's the work they're doing.
Despite the
different approaches,
everyone agrees we
need to do something.
[Leneesh, in Malayalam] This clear
sky today brings hope and joy.
But there is concern
at the same time.
From our experience, we know that
disaster can strike at any moment.
So the decision to harvest
immediately and salvage what we can
comes from many painful lessons.
We hope this year's
crops will be saved.
But a clear sky doesn't mean
that we're out of the woods yet.
We are expecting
more rain anytime.
Normally after harvesting,
we leave the sheaves in the paddy
field to dry before threshing.
But that's not possible now.
The sheaves need to be
threshed into grains
as quickly as possible.
[Jayakrishnan] I'm doing my
best to keep the farming going.
But for how long?
For every seed
sown in the field,
there is worry until it returns.
Many farmers have suffered
losses due to climate change.
For us, this rice
itself will be enough.
[Redzepi, in English]
Despite the best efforts
of millions of rice
farmers across India,
this year's haul wasn't enough.
In 2023, a temporary export
ban was put in place.
The main reason for the ban,
fear of El Niño and the
uncertain weather ahead.
Another reminder of the
power of the elements
that shape the way we eat,
and the surprising ways
that food connects us all.
[chattering, laughing]
[Leneesh, in Malayalam]
Shall we eat?
Ruthu, take the stew.
[Reshma] He wants the
salad mixed with sambar.
- [Leneesh] What?
- Mixed with sambar.
[Leneesh] Mix sambar.
Here, take sambar.
[Jayakrishnan] Ambu,
here, papad here.
- [Reshma] Papad for Ambu.
- Papad for Ambu.
[Reshma] Papad.
- [Jayakrishnan] Can I give it to Ambu?
- [Reshma] Correct.
[Jayakrishnan] For some time now,
we've been living a beautiful life.
It is a blessing of nature.
Climate change
could destroy that.
[Leneesh] Let me check how
gifted Mom's hands are.
Mom's gifted hands or
whose gifted hands?
[Reshma] If it is
good, then it is mine.
[all laugh]
[Jayakrishnan] But
climate change is actually
strengthening our
relationship with rice.
[Leneesh] It's a little spicy.
Yes, need water.
[all laughing, chattering]
[Jayakrishnan] Let's
say one of our children
came down with an
illness tomorrow
or some tragedy befell them.
We would hold them close and try every
possible method to keep them safe.
Rice farming is an integral
part of our identity.
So, in order to preserve it,
we must hold rice close to our hearts
and spare no effort to care for it.
[Rudhraa] Father?
Why do you love rice so much?
- See this seed?
- [Rudhraa] Mmm.
Our ancestors used to say,
"Don't eat the seeds even
when poverty is at its worst."
We need to save these seeds
for your grandchildren.