Cooking up memories and a plateful of tradition
Publis Silva
Ten cents – it’s what a young Publis Silva was given every Avurudu. Much to his parents’ pleasure, he liked to share it with his playmates. They considered their son’s generosity in keeping with the spirit of the season. His mother did her part by turning the spare grain and manioc she had saved from many previous meals into seasonal delicacies. She would store the mouth-watering treats, now preserved and cooked with sugar, under her son’s bed. These would be served up every year at the same time, as the family would pile a table with traditional food and leave it open all day for their neighbours to partake of.
Now, closing in on his eighth decade, Chef Publis knows it’s a tradition he’d like to maintain. Best identified by his long attachment to the Mount Lavinia Hotel, he ensures that every Avurudu there’s a whole table of Kavun, Kokis and other traditional Kevili (treats) set up there and that it’s free of charge. (The Mount Lavinia Hotel will have their Kevili table up on April 14.)
For Chef Publis, any conversation is a chance to expound on his philosophy of cooking. The father of truly Sri Lankan nouvelle cuisine sees the very act of cooking as a sacred calling. The choice of ingredients is everything and he emphasises that it should be fresh, organic and locally sourced wherever possible. Every house can grow something, even if it’s a small pot of leafy gotu kola he says. He himself draws heavily on his knowledge of the 42 ingredients that are considered medicinal – they range from gotu kola itself to staples like rice. Subtleties in the way they are made determine the effect they have when ingested – the same green kenda or porridge could be used to stop a running stomach or loosen one depending on how it’s cooked.
This profound respect for food is something he inherited. Growing up, he remembers his parents would pray over the rice every day before they lit the stove. He says the care with which he prepares his food and the concentration and attention he gives it have nurtured his own body – at 76 he’s seldom needed a sick day. In part, he attributes this to the fact that Sri Lankan cuisine is robust and healthy - it doesn’t use animal fat, animal milk or artificial colouring like many other cuisines. It also helps that whether you’re rolling the ponderous miris-gala or stirring a pot full of ingredients, traditional Sri Lankan cooking offers plenty in the way of exercise, he adds, eyes twinkling.
He’d like to see Sri Lankans eat less meat – this Avurudu he suggests you try the ‘meat’ of a young jak fruit ( Polos). Take the skin off it and roast until it’s a tender pink, he says–its flavour is subtle and delicious.
In the same healthy vein comes his New Year Salad – made with a mix of seasonal fruit, he suggests you include bananas, jambu (rose apple), uguressa (ramontechi), avocado, palameda or heart of the palm, kadju puhulan (cashew apple) and purple mangosteen. Thin strips of fried brinjal are used to garnish the dish. He also rattled off these recipes (entirely from memory), chosen for being perfect Avurudu fare, with the Chef Publis twist:
JATHIKA KIRIBATHA
Chef Publis approves entirely of kiri bath – it’s very healthy he says. Here however, he suggests using bee’s honey and raisins and cadju for a very special Avurudu dish. Ingredients 250 grams red rice 6 cups water 1 cup thick coconut milk 100 grams cadju nut 50 grams sultanas 3 tablespoons ghee or butter 50 grams jaggery 4 tablespoons bees honey Salt to taste Directions:
Wash rice. Add cadju and water and keep it on the fire. Once its three quarter cooked, add sultanas, thick coconut milk and salt. Mix well. Now add the jaggery. Take it off the stove and mix in the bee’s honey.
GORAKA CURRY
When consumed thrice a month, it is said to help reduce problems with cholesterol and blood sugar. “After Avurudu, eat this one,” says Chef Publis. Ingredients: 250 grams goraka 30 grams red onion 1 tablespoon curry leaf ½ inch cinnamon ½ inch rampe 2 green chilli 1 teaspoon garlic 1 teaspoon Maldive Fish powder 1 ½ teaspoon curry powder ½ teaspoon chilli powder ½ teaspoon turmeric 2 ½ cups thin coconut milk ½ cup thick coconut milk 1 teaspoon hunu Add salt to taste Directions
Mix the hunu with 2 tablespoons of water. Add goraka to the mix. Allow it to rest for one hour. Wash at least 5 – 6 times after this. Then cut the goraka. Keeping only the thick coconut milk aside, add all the other ingredients to the goraka. Put on the stove and bring to a boil on a slow fire. Remove from the flame and add the thick coconut milk.
This boutique beauty is a triumph of interior and, indeed, exterior décor. Courtyards abound. Stunner poolside. Birds crafted from recycled material flutter almost sinisterly but fascinatingly around whilst a tree, also intriguingly of recycled bits and bobs, shoots up to lofty Cloud Café where it showcases its glass-encased head to diners stretched across an immense communal table.
No excursive menus that meander into mediocrity. Start with samosas, perhaps Colombo’s only not oil-wallowed. Burgers, very good, are served with brisk salad. Linger over reduced balsamic vinegar, fat and fantastic: no rivulets running amok amidst sad salad, as at 5- stars. “Healthy” cheese and broccoli sandwich in marvellous homemade brown bread and low-fat cheese (menu lists the calories!) is strenuously recommended. Grilled piadinas imparts an interesting Italian element. But the slimmest-crusted pizzas, on a good day, are arguably Colombo’s best. They are extremely generous with the mozzarella, and it actually stretches (no, it’s not that ubiquitous local substitute). But perhaps they are overly generous with the cheese, so should you prefer to remain lean request they with the cheese be mean.
Waiters like Prakash, Thanuja and Ramanayake endear. With others, service stretches like the mozzarella... All the more time to levitate on cloud nine.
Come down to earth, or at least to first-floor Scarlet Room, for modern European. Take the stairs and spot fascinating decorative elements like trishaw parts turned table lamps and tractor seats styled into bar stools at Loft Bar. Scarlet Room is rather an overwhelming space, but the framed photos relieve intensity. And one is soon (or not- so- soon, depending on the competence of the waiter on duty) distracted by spaghetti- actually al dente. Where else in Colombo? The chef spent 21 years in Switzerland, England and Italy, where he owned a restaurant (Indian, not Italian).
Desserts can impress. Try cardamom and black sesame crème brûlé. It’s rich, refined, neither sweet nor nauseatingly eggy, and actually contains cardamom- lots, indeed. Homemade ice creams: chilli chocolate might be prevalent abroad but debuts on the Colombo scene. Strawberry is fresh and fruitful. Cinnamon tastes of cinnamon. Unctuous vanilla contains real vanilla beans- as self-respecting vanilla ice cream ought. Were the ice creams a tad less sweet and not always melted, staff wouldn’t be left red-faced. Or should I say scarlet?
Final report card: With better food than at most eateries, prices lower than at certain chichi cafes and interesting ambience, despite the odd black mark, we concede predominantly red. Passed with flying colours has Cloud Café! Satin Wilder Cafe
Milk & Honey unleashed the trend upon Colombo. Now everyone has cafés in boutiques, although not quite with the prototype’s originality, charm and quirkiness.
Satin Wilder is pretty. Extremely so. And one is led to believe conceptually inspired. The “designer” salads are splendid. Colombo’s best. Signature Satin Wilder salad comes with fancy quail’s eggs and a Astonishing concept. “Boutique” café in that it sells Starbucks coffee, but isn’t a Starbucks. How? Thinking young owner Dulith won’t tell. But reveals he specifically picked Jawatha Road for it was named after a Javanese called Java when exports atop bullockcarts traversed the route to the interiors.
Dulith’s ambition is to educate Colombo about coffee. He hopes people wouldn’t keep asking for those sugar- soaked, ice-creamed outrages which he refers to appositely as “faludas.” A coffee- shop serves coffee, not soft drinks. Java’s standard coffees are too mild for me. And yet, locals bemoan its bitterness. Dulith fears he might have to adulterate the concept to survive. Let’s hope not, for Java handsomely rewards its Starbucks-trained staff who each receives a tenth of the sales.
Starbucks is hardly for the coffee connoisseur. Nonetheless, try Iced Latte (double- shot espresso recommended). Java Chip Frappacino is predictably a best- seller, Espresso and Caramel Frappacinos are sweet, but very Starbucks. Straight espresso is the test of coffee-making prowess. Alas only 15 espressos/day sell and only to expats.
Dulith doesn’t want Java turned into a “restaurant” as customers expect. However, expect excellent carrot cake and chocolate. Sweet but wonderfully textured. Mango-espresso isn’t quite mastered. But they are learning and Dulith hopes Colombo will learn about coffee. D’divas
In a clothes boutique. Stark. Empty. 80s music plays remorselessly. Frappaccinos are a copyand-paste of Coco Veranda’s Coco-frappes (Strawberry, Blueberry, Black Forest), except Coco’s demure Filicori Zecchini is replaced by the more assertive Illy (which I like) and the fruit Coco uses cedes to fruit-flavoured sauces. Nevertheless, Black Forest Frappe is good. Barista young Nuwan customises it beautifully, invigorating the coffee, expurgating sweetness. It transpires he worked at Coco Veranda.
Menu: minimalist. Good brown bread baguettes. Greek salad has neither feta nor olives which Greek salad by definition incorporates. Chocolate brownie, if extremely sweet, is well-textured. Chocolate biscuit pudding excels. Sumptuous like satin, if somewhat sweet. Perhaps Colombo’s finest. Take-away recommended.