After landing in Colombo, it doesn’t take long for a foodie to figure out that this country isn’t only about fresh coconut shells and tea leaves. There is a lot more than meets the eye when it comes to Sri Lanka’s culinary scene.
There are no two opinions when it comes to coconuts being a staple and a quintessential part of every kitchen of this island country, as they are used extensively while cooking curries and making cocktails to give them a texture, flavour or creaminess. However, dosas with idli and sambar can also be qualified as runners-up in the race to win hearts and appetites here in Sri Lanka.
My first lunch on the island was at a street-side café: a masala dosa, also known as thosai, served on a banana leaf. It wasn’t much to write home about at first glance, but the first bite told a different story.
If your tastebuds are accustomed to the South Indian style of dosa, which is crispy and paper thin, this dosa was only somewhat similar. It was less crispy, spongier and even thicker when compared to the South Indian variety. In other words, it was an acquired taste.
Once the dosa batter was laid out, it was stuffed with spicy potato curry, unlike the mashed potatoes we’re used to seeing. It was paired with idli and sambar.
The idli — soft, steamed rice cakes made from fermented rice batter — was fairly bland, but the sambar was a flavour bomb in the form of a stew made from lentils, eggplant, tamarind, spices and herbs, offering a tangy, savoury tingle to the palate and performing a balancing act.
It was after a few bites that the server brought out the coconut chutney, which was definitely the showstopper. A simple coconut pulp made with green chillies, ginger, curry leaves, tamarind and coriander, served with a garnish of mustard seeds, it was incomparable to anything we eat in Pakistan. Every ingredient was making its presence felt and it was a perfect amalgamation of sweetness and tanginess with a hint of spice.
My Sri Lankan host didn’t let us order any soft drinks with the meal and instead whispered something to the server. As we were about to finish our meals, he brought out four giant coconuts with straws on the side. “These are called Thambili, and they are king coconuts,” he explained before the server took out a cleaver, sliced the hard, fibrous shell and cracked the husk.
The saccharine water inside the shell was finished up in seconds and it was then time to crack the shell open with a mallet and scoop out the white inner flesh with a spoon carved out of the shell. It was an refreshing blast of vitamins.
One item that I had listed as a must-try were hoppers, also called appam in the local dialect. To my surprise, they were a dime a dozen in every eatery, be it a fine dining establishment or a stall on the side of the road. I did not have to wait long, as my hotel was serving hoppers at breakfast at a live cooking stall.
It was a treat to watch the chef behind the stoves managing three burners at a time. I wasn’t surprised to find out that hoppers are also cooked with fermented rice flour and coconut, like many items in Sri Lankan cuisine.
After pouring the batter in a deep concave-shaped cast iron bowl, she spread the batter swiftly with a few twists and turns of her wrist, before breaking a fresh egg into the bowl with a sprinkle of salt and pepper and placing a lid on the small container.
Once the batter was crispy around the edges, the bowl-shaped hopper was dished out on the serving plate. Various condiments like coconut chutney, chilli paste, seeni (sweet caramelised onions) and a red onion sambal with lime found their respective corners on the plate to complement the hopper. It was simply divine.
I had to make two more rounds to satisfy my cravings and when the lady at the stand suggested that I try the sweet hopper too since I liked the savoury ones so much, I had to give them a go too.
On our second day in Colombo, our hunger for seafood reached new heights. After browsing various websites, getting recommendations from local taxi drivers and calling a few Sri Lankan friends, we hopped on a local train running alongside Marine Drive and ended up at a beach-side restaurant named Barracuda, sandwiched between a railway track and the Indian Ocean.
Located right next to the sandy beach, with mangroves and palm trees scattered all around, this chic place was buzzing with soothing live music. There were fairy lights dangling from trees branches, pebbled pathways leading to the billowing waves below and an ample supply of cool breeze to greet guests. Although Chinese and Thai dishes dominated the menu, Barracuda was mainly recommended to us for the seafood.
After scanning the menu thoroughly, we ended up ordering seafood platters with different combinations of prawns, crabs, lobsters, grouper, cuttlefish and other local varieties of seafood. These were prepared in a number of different ways, some were fried, others sizzled. Things were poached, curried and even steamed.
The server strongly recommended chilli crabs as an appetiser and to a resounding yes from us. The platters were enough to send anyone into a food coma. The meaty crabs soaking in curry sauce, fish marinated in tamarind and parsley, prawns wrapped up in a crispy crust and a cornucopia of chutneys and sauces all over the platter — it was all simply delectable.
No trip to Sri Lanka is complete without a visit to the tree plantations, so it was time to move away from Colombo’s hustle and bustle after two days of staying in the busy metropolis.
The saying “the most difficult roads lead to the most beautiful destinations” proved to be true when we arrived in Kandy. Surrounded by mountains, tea plantations, rain forests and garden terraces all at once, the city can be compared to our own Murree or Bhurban.
Although we had planned to spend just one day in the mountains, the two-hour drive to a tea plantation site in Nuwara Eliya made us extend our stay for another night. After an hour on the serpentine road, we decided to make a pitstop as soon as we passed by a small roadside café that grabbed our attention.
With a thatched roof perched atop a thin tree trunk frame and barn-style furniture with solid wood planks as table tops and stools, the vibes of this TripAdvisor-certified café were both tropical and rustic at the same time, perfectly complementing the Buddha quietly placed upon a pedestal. The place called for a dhaba-style treat of chai and local snacks.
Aloo bonda is a crispy deep-fried snack that pairs well with tea. Although they appear similar, this wasn’t your average pakora lookalike. The server informed us that aloo bonda is made from sweet potatoes and a blend of curry leaves, mustard seeds, ginger, finely chopped sautéed onions, cumin, green chillies and lime juice.
The mixture is shaped into small balls, dipped in batter and fried till golden brown. It was packed with herbs and flavours and we lost count of how many we ate as we sipped hot tea and swiped bondas off the plate.
The finale of our trip was a visit to the 150-year-old Damro Labookellie Estate Tea Factory in Nuwara Eliya. The view was simply breathtaking. Being the oldest tea estate in Sri Lanka, the place is always packed with visitors and tourists.
After a short tour, the guide informed us that this factory produces high-grade black tea as well as premium white tea. Since it was difficult to savour the flavours and the aromas of the two different teas from the samples offered, we were left with no choice but to buy packs of both to know the real difference.
Black tea was a hardcore affair, dark in colour and robust in flavour. White tea, meanwhile, was much sweeter with a gentler boost.
As this was the last day of our visit, we opted not to accrue additional luggage costs on the flight home and buy packets of loose tea instead of the fancy boxes offered to us at the plantation.