The grains that my grandparents' generation ate out of necessity, and abandoned as soon as they could afford rice and wheat, are now on menus at a premium and packaged with a great deal of language about ancient wisdom.
I have been cooking with them for about three years. The cooking case is genuine. The story wrapped around them is mostly invented, and the two are worth separating.
Why they were abandoned
Worth stating clearly because the revival narrative tends to skip it.
They were the grains of people who could not afford better. Rice and wheat were aspirational, they were what wealthier households ate, and government policy from the middle of the last century actively promoted them for reasons of yield and food security.
They are also more work. Several require more processing, they do not keep as long once processed because of their oil content, and the flours behave badly compared to wheat.
People switched because switching made their lives easier and signalled that they had risen. That is not a mistake that needs correcting, it is a choice made under conditions most of us have not experienced.
The agricultural case, which is the strong one
Where the argument is genuinely good and gets the least attention.
These crops need substantially less water than rice, tolerate poor soil, and grow in conditions where other grains fail. In regions facing water stress, that is a serious argument independent of anything about nutrition.
They also tend to have shorter growing seasons and lower input requirements, which matters for smallholders.
If the revival results in more of them being grown in appropriate places, that is a real benefit, and it has nothing to do with whether they are a superfood.
The nutritional claims
Here I would be cautious, and the caution runs in both directions.
They are whole grains, generally eaten unrefined, with fibre and mineral content that compares favourably to polished white rice. That much is straightforward and is mostly a comparison against a refined product rather than a special property.
The stronger claims — about specific conditions, about blood sugar, about being fundamentally different from other whole grains — go beyond what I have seen supported, and they are the claims that appear on the packaging.
Compared to brown rice or whole wheat, the differences are much smaller than compared to white rice. Most of the benefit being marketed is the benefit of eating whole grains, which is not news and does not require these particular ones.
What they are actually like to cook
The practical part, and this is where I have learned most.
They vary enormously from each other. Treating them as one category is the first mistake and it is what most recipes do.
Some cook like rice and can substitute directly. Some are much smaller and need different water ratios and shorter times. Some are best treated like a porridge. One or two are stubborn and need soaking overnight to be pleasant.
The flours are the difficult part. With no gluten, they do not hold together, and a flatbread made from them behaves completely differently — it needs hot water to bind, it cannot be rolled the same way, and it is patted out by hand.
Learning that took me several failed batches and one afternoon with somebody who had done it their whole life, which was worth more than everything I had read.
The taste, honestly
They taste of something, which is the main difference from white rice.
Earthy, slightly bitter in some cases, nutty in others. That is a positive if you want it and it is not neutral, and dishes designed around the neutrality of rice do not always work.
Where they shine is in preparations that were designed for them — the regional dishes from the areas where they were staples. Those recipes account for the flavour rather than fighting it.
Where they are least successful is as a drop-in replacement in a dish built for rice, which is how most people first try them and why many people conclude they do not like them.
The price problem
The thing that bothers me most about the revival.
A grain that was cheap because it was for poor people is now expensive because it is for health-conscious urban buyers.
Which means the people who eat it traditionally, in the regions where it grows, are now competing on price with a market that did not exist ten years ago.
That is a recurring pattern with foods that get rediscovered, and it has had real consequences elsewhere. It is worth at least noticing while enjoying the results.
Where I have landed
I cook them regularly, in dishes that were designed for them, because those dishes are good.
I do not believe most of what is written on the packets.
And I buy from sources that seem to be connected to the growing regions rather than from wellness retailers, which is a small gesture with limited effect and costs me nothing.