Ruwanmali Samarakoon-Amunugama - Milk, Spice and Curry Leaves: Hill Country Recipes from the Heart of Sri Lanka

While growing up in Canada, Ruwanmali learned about her grandmothers way of cooking, which was typical to her hometown of Kandy, Sri Lanka, from her mother, who exposed her to many ingredients and techniques. Her passion for cooking is inspired by her familys history in farming and gardening. Ruwans maternal grandfather and uncles worked as agricultural and botanical curators on estates and parks in Sri Lankas highlands (in Kandy and Nuwara Eliya) and her paternal grandfather owned many fruit, rice, and coconut estates throughout Kandy. Her knowledge of South Asian foods and ingredients has been enhanced by her travels to various parts of Asia and numerous trips to Sri Lanka. She shares her love of her heritage, food, and travel with her husband and daughter.

Their entire life-style is different; those in the villages living a simple uncomplicated life free from the hustle and bustle of traffic, in a fresh and clean atmosphere ...
(Doreen Alles, Traditional Foods & Cookery Down the Ages)

Sri Lanka is one of the most breathtaking places in the world, and no matter how often I go back, I never cease to be amazed by the incredible geography and flora and fauna of this island. Some of my fondest memories of my familys numerous visits to Sri Lanka from Canada over the years are of the many road trips we took with my extended family of uncles, aunts, and cousins. I can recall as a child being in awe of how much one region differed from the next. This was especially true as we travelled several hours by car from the capital city of Colombo to my grandmothers house (and the home my mother grew up in) in Peradeniya, Kandy.

As a child sitting in the back seat, I would watch the remarkable transition from bustling Colombo city life with its open shops and street vendors to slow-paced village life in Peradeniya. I witnessed the drastic transition in landscape from Colombos western coastline to the lush, cool hill country of Sri Lankas Central Province. Set amid hills on a plateau high in the south-central wet zone, Kandy is part of the Central Highlands, a region that is home to some of the countrys highest mountains. On the drive from Colombo to Kandy, I would see the ocean, flat grassy fields, waterfalls, river gorges, and tall forested mountains, all within the span of only a few hours.

Our usual route always included a break to eat hot lump rice (rice and curries wrapped in banana leaves) at a local rest house, followed by a detour to Nuwara Eliya for tea. My mother was ever-vigilant as we made our way along the narrow roads that snake around the edges of high slopes, but my eyes would be on the vast estates of finely cultivated tea. From a distance the tea pickers appeared as scattered specks of brilliant colourwind-strewn flowers against terraces of green. And along the hillsides, local farmers stood by stalls, displaying their harvests for sale: jackfruits, leeks, carrots, cabbage, potatoes, beets, avocados, mangos, and papayas. After briefly stopping to pick up fruits for the following mornings breakfast, we would drive to our favourite tea house, nestled in the cool misty hills. There we would sip our cups of hot black tea, as fresh as the surroundings and equally satisfying.

We would arrive late in the evening at my grandmothers house, and I would awaken the following morning to birdsong. I would find my mother already dressed, eating breakfast and chatting with family or friends who had dropped in. This summed up Peradeniya for me: happy, informal reunions around delicious meals. In later years my grandmother cooked less, but the household help that had been with her for almost their entire lives were well versed in her recipes. They prepared local varieties of rice, pittu (steamed rice flour rolls), aapa (bowl-shaped rice flour pancakes), coconut sambol and roti, and green leafy mallum (finely cut greens), as well as typical hill country curries such as jackfruit, beetroot, pumpkin, and ash plantain. For afternoon tea, my sister and I would go to our aunt and uncles house next door, happily anticipating the homemade cakes and sweet treats.

Almost every visit to my mothers hometown included a day trip to Peradeniyas Royal Botanical Gardens and joining evening crowds at the annual Perahara festival in Kandy. In between family gatherings and sightseeing, we made trips into town to places such as the Kandy Central Market to find freshly picked fruits and vegetables, meats, fresh and dried fish, bottled palm oils, and ground and whole spices. The stunning displays of spices stacked on top of tables or piled in baskets offered an unparalleled array of scents and colours.

Although the pace of life is slow in my mothers hometown, our visits seemed to go by quickly. Before leaving Peradeniya, however, we would make a trip to my fathers home village in the neighbouring Western Province. My paternal grandfather originally cultivated various coconut, fruit, and paddy (rice) plantations in the Central and Western Provinces. Physically being in the place that my father told me so much about when I was growing up in Canada always felt surreal. Quietly stepping foot on the land and looking across acres of coconut trees brought to life the stories about my grandfather. I would invariably recall my fathers words, that my grandfather had started it all with just one coconut plant.

The memories and experiences of our travels as a family inspired me to maintain a connection to our heritage. My parents fostered our Sri Lankan traditions throughout my childhood in Canada, but there was one part of our culture that I was particularly drawn to: the food. The simple act of preparing the dishes and sharing them with family and friends felt natural to me. Just as I enjoyed travelling and taking in the small details of a scene or landscape, I equally enjoyed the quiet intricacies of cooking. Watching my mother cook the various foods we had in Sri Lanka, and seeing how the meals brought people together, became a strong part of my connection to our culture.

Often at my mothers side in the kitchen, I found myself paying close attention to her recipesand the stories she attached to them. Unconsciously paying homage to my parents, grandparents, and our shared heritage, I learned about the ingredients my grandfathers cultivated and my grandmothers cooked with. Cooking with my mother also encouraged me to develop my own culinary instinct (since she, like most all Sri Lankan cooks, rarely measured spices or ingredients). While we did not always have the specific cooking tools or exact ingredients called for in the original recipes, the dishes were always so flavourful.