01x06 - Rice

[bunniefuu]

[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 w*r in Ukraine.

Food is the new

casualty of this w*r.

[Redzepi] It's hard to believe that

the journey to our dinner plates

is so deeply entwined

with distant events.

A w*r 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 c*ck 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 b*llet 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 expl*si*n 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.