Cod fillet cubes prepared in a Sri Lankan style are crunchy on the outside and juicy on the inside
Cod fillet cubes prepared in a Sri Lankan style are crunchy on the outside and juicy on the inside (Photograpph: Nandita Banerji)Cod fillet cubes prepared in a Sri Lankan style are crunchy on the outside and juicy on the inside

Coastal cuisines

A cookbook that takes one to the heart of Sri Lanka, with recipes that evoke a sense of familiarity in the Indian reader
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Food is more than sustenance to a Bengali; it is a symphony of spices, a celebration of heritage and a love language passed down through generations. So, when Tasha Marikkar’s Jayaflava: A Celebration of Food, Flavour and Recipes from Sri Lanka came my way, I set out on a culinary journey to the neighbouring island nation, eager to discover common threads between the two coastal cultures and sink my teeth into this part of South Asian cuisine.

As someone experiencing the cuisine for the first time, Jayaflava was an eye-opening experience into the heart of Sri Lankan culinary traditions. The cookbook is more than just a collection of recipes; it is a lively story that takes you to the heart of Sri Lanka. Through its pages, I discovered the delightful intricacies of Lankan food and found fascinating parallels and contrasts with the culinary traditions of Bengal. While seafood, fish and chicken recipes were plentiful and expected, the wide range of vegetarian dishes was pleasantly surprising and inspired a cooking spree.

Marikkar’s love for her homeland is evident from the first page of the book. The first section delves into the country’s diverse communities, including the Sinhalese, Indian Tamils, Ceylon Moors, Burghers and Malays, each with their own culinary influences in the mosaic of Lankan cuisine. It is especially fascinating because it examines the effects of colonialism, trade and migration on the island’s culinary landscape.

The next sections introduce common ingredients in Lankan cuisine, some of which were familiar while others were new and intriguing. I encountered the ubiquitous coconut that is also a staple in Bengali cuisine; but Sri Lanka takes it a step further, using it in different forms in most dishes. Pol roti is one such delectable item. It is a flatbread made with all-purpose flour, grated coconut, minced onion and curry leaves, all kneaded together. While my Bengali sensibilities urged me to fry the rotis in coconut oil, I am glad I followed the recipe and stayed with pan-cooking. The end result was a thick flatbread with a sweet aroma of coconut that beckoned you to dip it into a delicious curry.

My itch for fried food was met by an exciting recipe titled “Fish fry at the beach”. Cod fillets, cubed and tossed in cornflour with spices, are then fried and served with a dash of lemon juice and shallot rings. The cubes were crunchy on the outside and juicy on the inside (see recipe).

Marikkar also introduced me to “devilling” foods. I was familiar with devilled eggs, which also have a spicy Sri Lankan version in the book. But it was the devilled chicken that completely took my breath away, with its resemblance to the Indo-Chinese favourite chilli chicken. The recipe included leeks, which surprised me because I had previously thought of them as a western ingredient. But the recipe for leek fry convinced me about the allium’s versatility.

Similarities, contrasts

The recipes contained surprising similarities and fascinating contrasts with Bengali cuisine. Sri Lanka’s fragrant yellow rice dish, kaha baath, mirrors the vibrancy of Bengali basanti pulao. The numerous fish cutlets and fish fry recipes also felt like home.

Comforting dishes played a huge role throughout the cookbook. “My aunty-inspired chicken kanji” was reminiscent of khichudi, with warm spices and plentiful aromatics. The soupy goodness of “Chicken mulligatawny”, with a dal base, felt like a tender yet heartening hug in a bowl.

The use of fresh curry leaves and chillies in the book also provided a comforting similarity, while the presence of turmeric and fenugreek added a warmth that felt like a delightful cousin to the Bengali panch phoron.

Another parallel can be found in the use of mustard. While Bengali cuisine is renowned for its mustard fish or shorshe ilish, the book featured mustard seeds in many of its recipes. This shared love for the pungent seeds creates a bridge between the two coastal culinary cuisines.

Despite these similarities, Marikkar’s book also showcases the distinctiveness of Sri Lankan food. One of the most intriguing aspects is the unfamiliar spice blends. Often referred to as “curry powder,” three types of blends are detailed by the author—roasted, unroasted and jaffna. The complex mixes include curry leaves, coriander seeds, cumin seeds, fennel seeds and cinnamon, among others, to create Lankan garam masalas that are uniquely aromatic and form a flavourful base for many curries.

The inclusion of dishes like hoppers (a type of pancake made from fermented rice batter and coconut milk) and string hoppers (steamed rice noodles) highlights another distinctive feature of Lankan cuisine. These dishes, often served with a variety of sambols (spicy relishes) and curries, offer an experience not unfamiliar to the Indian palate.

The array of sambols was delightful, from the vibrantly coloured seeni sambol (onion relish) to the fresh mint sambol and the intriguing bitter gourd sambol. These relishes often have raw vegetables as the main ingredient and are meant to be eaten with every bite of food. I tried a quick carrot sambol, with grated carrots, onions, chillies and the ever-present coconut in grated form. The fresh vegetables, with a hint of creaminess from the coconut, were a winner and will definitely be cooked again.

The use of ingredients like pandan leaves and goraka (a type of dried fruit used as a souring agent) was a revelation. These ingredients, not typically found in Bengali cuisine, add unique flavours and aromas to Sri Lankan dishes. The book provides helpful tips on using such ingredients and offers substitutes, making it accessible to readers unfamiliar with Sri Lankan cooking. I was unable to find pandan leaves and used bay leaves instead, hoping the change would not impact the dish significantly. The end results were quite fantastic. No culinary exploration is complete without a taste of dessert and Jayaflava did not disappoint. Sago pudding, cooked with a generous helping of jaggery, was simple and relatively quick. The salted Lankan caramelised bananas too were simply delicious and I cannot wait to try the other desserts, like “My mum’s mango cardamom pudding” and “Sticky date cake”.

The cookbook also features an assortment of drinks, both alcoholic and sober varieties. While most seemed familiar, they had interesting twists. An iced tea made with the exotic broken orange pekoe black tea was perplexing and the addition of ginger paste to a pineapple margarita walked the tightrope between bewildering and beguiling.

Marikkar’s detailed explanations and step-by-step instructions make it easy for even a novice cook to recreate Sri Lankan dishes at home. It also serves as a fantastic guide to understanding the techniques and ingredients that define Sri Lankan cooking. For instance, the process of tempering spices in hot oil, known as todka in Bengali cuisine, is similarly employed in Sri Lankan cooking but with a different blend of spices.

Overall, the book is a visual and sensory delight. The photographs are stunning, capturing the vibrant colours and textures of Sri Lankan cuisine, making the book a feast for the eyes. Jayaflava and its recipes are a deeply enriching experience. If you are looking to expand your palate or are interested in exploring the culinary delights of Sri Lanka give this book a try.

RECIPE - FISH FRY AT THE BEACH

Serves: 2-4 | TIME: 20 minutes

ETHNIC ROOTS: Sinhalese

Ingredients

  • 350 g cod fillet or any white fish fillet, washed

  • 4 shallots

  • 120 g cornflour

  • 2 tsps turmeric powder

  • 1 tsp coriander powder

  • 1 tsp cinnamon powder

  • 1 tsp chilli powder

  • 1 tsp salt

  • 5 tbsps of ghee

  • Juice of 1 lime

Method

  1. Cut the cod fillet into 5 cm cubes and set aside.

  2. Chop the shallots into fine rounds, so that you have thin pieces of shallots to garnish the fish with.

  3. Place the cornflour into a bowl and combine with turmeric, coriander, cinnamon powder, chilli powder and the salt.

  4. Heat a frying pan, and then add 2 tbsps of the ghee and allow to melt. Dip the cubed cod into the seasoned cornflour ensuring that it is well coated. Cook the fish in batches ensuring that all sides are well-browned. Each cube should cook within 4 minutes.

  5. Once all the fish is cooked, place on a plate and garnish with the finely cut shallots and then finish off with lashings of fresh lime juice.

Eat immediately.

Excerpted with permission from Jayaflava by Tasha Marrikar and HarperCollins

This was first published in the 1-15 August, 2024 print edition of Down To Earth

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