An Ode to the Culinary Experience in Sri Lanka

Growing up by the sea in Mumbai, nothing feels quite like the familiar embrace of warm, salty air as I step off the plane. Although Sri Lanka isn’t my birthplace, over the past decade, it has felt more like home than any other place I've lived. Our three Hoppers restaurants in London offer authentic Sri Lankan cuisine, and I often joke that they exist merely to justify my frequent trips to the island.

Upon arriving in Colombo this time, our first destination is a coconut plantation in Chilaw, owned by our friends at Rockland Distilleries. Here, they harvest sap from coconut flowers, which naturally ferments into toddy before being distilled into the well-known arrack—the spirit of Sri Lanka. Coconut plantations with toddy shacks are prevalent in South India and Sri Lanka; these family-run spots see men harvesting toddy while women prepare delicious accompaniments for the milky nectar. Patrons often gather outside these shacks long before they open, lingering until the last drops of toddy are served. The unique food here—fried sprats, fish head curries, offal, tapioca, sambals—is served in an atmosphere as vibrant as the flavors. My first experience at a toddy shack in Kerala, India, remains one of my most unforgettable meals, and since then, I seek out similar venues whenever I travel in India or Sri Lanka.

After a brief stop at Jetwing’s Colombo Seven Hotel, we head to dinner at Pettah Market. As Colombo's largest market and a vibrant cultural hub, it unites tradespeople, worshippers, vendors, restaurateurs, and shoppers from various backgrounds. Each street is renowned for specific goods, from plastic products and metalware to catering supplies, dried fish, faloodas, and sweets. It's easy to lose track of time wandering through the maze, fully immersed in the experience.

We source some of our dry goods, hopper pans, and service items for the restaurants directly from Pettah. Beyond necessities, I visit for the incredible food. Just follow your nose and eyes to find the best spots. I simply look for the longest line and order what everyone else is having: 'One of those, please.'

Around the iconic red Jami Ul-Alfar Mosque in Pettah, you can find a wealth of Muslim and Malay specialties like biryanis, rotis, and quail curries, alongside fried snacks, fresh fruit served with salt and chili, and local pickles at nearly every corner. We indulge in a variety of these treats before catching a tuk-tuk back to our hotel. However, we don’t make it far before the irresistible sound of paddles chopping roti, mixed with meat curry, egg, and shredded vegetables on a hot plate calls to me. I ask the driver to stop for one last dish—a mutton kothu.

Legend has it that this dish was born from a late-night adventure when a hungry reveler rummaged through his fridge and found some stale roti and leftover curry. He tossed them into a pan, chopped everything up, and added some egg and fresh veggies, unknowingly crafting one of the greatest one-pan meals ever. Nowadays, you can find kothu being served all over the island, expertly prepared by enthusiastic chefs identifiable by the signature sound of their chopping. The last bite of the day is often the most unforgettable, so we decide to stroll back to the hotel to work off some of our indulgence. As I drift into sleep, the rhythmic clanging of kothu paddles echoes in my mind, and I smile, anticipating the delicious food awaiting us the next day.