Life style

A Sticky Sri Lankan Dessert Steeped in History

Published

2 years ago

2023/10/8

By Zinara Rathnayake

When I was five years old, I would love to sit beside my loku amma, solving riddles while she worked in the kitchen making kalu dodol. Loku amma was married to my paternal uncle, my father’s older brother. As a young girl, I loved my chatty, always laughing, childlike loku amma for many reasons. But more than anything, I longed for her kalu dodol, a dark brown, gelatinous Sri Lankan sweetmeat made with rice flour, coconut milk and palm jaggery. For loku amma, making dodol in her outside kitchen in Kurunegala, a town 100 km north of the country’s capital, Colombo, was a monthly ritual.

For about 2 kg of dodol (as kalu dodol is also known), you need 300 g of rice flour, fresh and creamy coconut milk from three mature nuts, and at least 1 kg of palm jaggery. Despite everyone’s tut-tutting about the domestic drudgery that dodol making entails, loku amma did it with a cheerful smile.

“It’s easier to buy it from a shop,” my uncle, parents and cousins complained. Loku amma brushed them off without a word, and headed off to their large, one-acre back garden dotted with coconut palms. Preparations for dodol making began the previous day with plucking coconuts. Her son would then cycle to the nearby mill with farm-grown rice, and bring home rice flour.

In the wee hours of the next morning, loku amma would halve coconuts with a sharp sickle and scrape their flesh for hours. Sometimes, her son would chip in to help. They squeezed the grated coconut in water to make coconut milk. Once her son made a hearth in the back garden with bricks, loku amma would add to a large vat coconut milk, sieved rice flour, and palm sugar — a specialty of her hometown near the hill town of Kandy.

For the next four hours, family members would take turns stirring the mixture. Their job also involved adding parched twigs and coconut shells to the fire beneath the vat. As it cooked, the mixture began to release oil. Once they carefully spooned out the oil from the kalu dodol batter, it slowly began to fuse, merging into a scrumptious lump that didn’t stick to your fingers. Loku amma laid this on a large tray, allowing it to cool for an hour before cutting it into medium-sized blocks —slightly crusty outside and wonderfully gooey within.

Making kalu dodol the right way demands time and effort

When I turned ten years old, I left for school in Kandy and my visits to loku amma’s house became fewer. After her husband’s death about a decade ago, she slowly forgot about her ritualistic dodol making. At age 75, loku amma now gently oversees while her children make dodol once a year in April, to mark the Sinhala and Tamil New Year. It’s been several years since I last tasted loku amma’s dodol, but whenever I come across the sweetmeat of my childhood, I think of no one but her.

While kalu dodol forms a happy, vivid memory of my early years, it was only recently that I learned that it is also deeply yoked to Sri Lanka’s history. In a paper published in the Journal of Ethnic Foods, the authors suggest that dodol — a sweet, toffee-like confection — is a heritage food of the Malay community, whose origins are linked to the Malay Archipelago, between mainland Indochina and Australia.

The oldest written records about dodol in the early 20th century are associated with the Malay community in Batavia, Indonesia during the Dutch colonial period. In 1926, an entrepreneur named Karsinah from the Garut Regency in Indonesia is believed to have initiated the commercial production of dodol.

According to the research, dodol is also a type of kuih, a Malay cake or dessert that “symbolizes the Malay identity and represents its history, lifestyle, and heritage.” As historical records mention, kalu dodol in Sri Lanka also traces back to Malay settlers on the island. Today, the small community has a population of around 40,000 people in Sri Lanka.

Although collectively known as Sri Lankan Malays, this diverse community includes people of varied Southeast Asian ancestry, from Malaysia to the easternmost parts of the Indonesian archipelago. In their paper The Lifecycle of Sri Lanka Malay, authors Umberto Ansaldo and Lisa Lim mention that convicts and enslaved groups of people from the Indonesian archipelago arrived in Sri Lanka as early as the 16th century, during Portuguese rule. But most Sri Lankan Malays trace their roots to the Dutch colonial period from 1658 to 1796. Deported political exiles from Java, Maluku and Goa, among other places, came to Sri Lanka.

Later, during the same period, more people arrived from Bali, Java and the Malaysian peninsula; most of them were soldiers. The Dutch formed a Malay brigade to fight against Sri Lankans, a practice also followed by the British when they occupied the island in 1815. Collectively, the native inhabitants labelled these groups from the Malay Archipelago and beyond as Ja Minissu or Ja Manusar — Sinhala and Tamil respectively for people from Java. When British colonisers noticed that the people spoke Malay, they gave them the ethnic label of Sri Lankan Malays.

Another theory goes that kalu dodol was introduced to Sri Lanka by the Portuguese. Perhaps there is some truth to this, as dodol has also become a cultural artefact in former Portuguese colonies such as nearby Goa, Macau, Tanzania and certain East African nations. “It could be true that colonial rulers brought it from Goa and South Indian colonies,” said Diwani Welitharage, a food blogger who researches widely about Sri Lankan food. “But the tradition of dodol making began in the south of Sri Lanka. So perhaps it came with Malay settlers who entered the island from a southern port.”

While there is little literature available on Malay cultural ties to kalu dodol in Sri Lanka, the dessert is believed to have its roots in Hambantota in the south of the country, which had a thriving Malay community in the past. The name Hambantota derives from Sampan Tota, which translates to the “harbour of the sampans,” referring to a type of wooden boat used by the Malays.

While the community has dwindled, Malays still hold fast to their heritage desserts such as dodol. Over the years, dodol has become enwrapped in other cultures and communities across the island. Sinhalese groups line the streets with dodol stalls during cultural processions in Kataragama, a town in Hambantota that holds religious significance for both Buddhists and Hindus. Meanwhile, Sri Lankan Moors, whose history traces to Arab traders, also prepare dodol.

There’s no doubt that dodol travelled across the world as a result of colonialism. Perhaps the forced migration of various groups hailing from the Malay archipelago also played a part. As this Malay sweetmeat moved from one place to another, shaped by the cuisines, rituals and customs of the communities across the world who came to embrace it, it became a celebratory dessert reserved for festivals.

For Goans, dodol is a luscious sweetmeat made during Christmas, while Thais make it to mark their new year, Songkran. Sri Lankan Muslims prepare dodol for Eid. This shared love for dodol has led to several iterations of the dessert.

The Thai community, for example, garnishes dodol with roasted white sesame seeds. The Malaysian city Melaka is famous for dodol pisang (banana dodol) and dodol kopi (coffee-flavoured dodol), among others. Another famous Malaysian version of the dish is dodol durian, which uses the odorous flesh of the durian fruit.

The most common versions of dodol include rice flour, coconut milk and palm sugar or jaggery. While Southeast Asian countries often use glutinous rice flour, in Sri Lanka, we often grind our own flour from local rice varieties, which are usually less sticky.

Kalu dodol means black or dark dodol in Sinhala. The darker it is, the better it is believed to taste. This is because the darker colour indicates the amount of pure kithul jaggery present in the dish. Although the Malay community in Southeast Asia often uses palm sugar from the black sugar palm or coconut trees, kithul jaggery is made from the sap of the kithul palm (or foxtail palm) tree, which grows abundantly in the low wetlands in Sri Lanka. Kithul jaggery lends a smoky flavour to the dish.

“But many businesses now add sugar,” said Ilma Nawas, a Malay resident from Hambantota who learned to make dodol from his mother.

Commercial dodol makers, Nawas explained, also swap rice flour with refined flour. According to Niwas, the rich oily texture in dodol should come from creamy coconut milk. However, this is not always the case. “We never add oil to dodol, but most businesses don’t use pure coconut milk or reduce the amount [of milk] that they use. Instead, they add cheap cooking oil to the mixture to give the oily [mouth] feel,” he said.

Apart from making dodol for festivals, Nawas’ family also occasionally takes orders. Depending on what people prefer, they add different ingredients to the batter. This often includes ground cardamoms. As dodol became commercially available in Sri Lanka, dodol-making machines made their way to the island.

“But they make dodol too soft and silky,” said Asha Sewmini, an ambitious entrepreneur. Sandwiched between assorted shops on a busy street in Nugegoda, a suburb of Colombo, her shop Dilani Kalu Dodol sells dodol from Hambantota, their hometown, where they still live. According to Sewmini, manually stirring the mixture lends the dish its signature uneven texture. “Some parts will be crumbly and lumpy while others are soft, smooth, and gooey,” she said. “That’s the joy of eating dodol.”

Sewmini inherited her dodol recipes from her late grandmother. Forty years ago, her mother assembled a makeshift stall during the procession season in Kataragama. “Our house sits along the Kataragama road. So amma sold dodol to the pilgrims,” she said. “People would see the stall, stop their vehicle and buy it from us.”

Dilani Kalu Dodol has expanded over the years. They began supplying to restaurants and supermarkets, and opened a small outlet in Colombo. Sewmini attributes their success to their hard work and the quality of the ingredients they use, such as adding enough cashews for extra crunch and always favouring jaggery instead of sugar. “It makes all the difference in taste and texture,” Sewmini said.

In the cosmopolitan towns of Sri Lanka today, you are more likely to head home with a slab of dodol that’s prepared “cheaply”, as Nawas calls it. But wedged between high-rise structures and profit-minded ventures, small stores like Dilani Kalu Dodol are still preserving their family heritage.

“I know we can easily profit [from dodol] by using sugar or cooking oil, but we never do that,” Nawas said. “I learned to make dodol from my mother; she learned it from her mother. This is our family recipe. The original dodol. Better than anything you can get in the market.”

Some people also opt for sago or roasted and crushed mung beans in their dodol. No matter what ingredients may go into dodol, the key to getting it right is to stir the mixture often. Stirring, Nawas says, helps form the perfect crusty outside, smooth inside texture. “It also prevents the batter from sticking to the pan,” he said. “Sometimes, my hands start to hurt. But I can’t look away. If you do, your dodol is gone; the mixture will stick to the pan.” (BBC)

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Ministry of Brands: Where style meets statement

Published

4 days ago

2026/03/1

Thilina Walpola

From left: Aamir Akbarally, Farida Akbarally, Ghazi Hammoud, Tyeab Akbarally and Ramzey Hammoud officially opening Ministry of Brands at the ribbon-cutting ceremony.

The City of Colombo has welcomed a bold new entrant to its retail landscape. Ministry of Brands – a concept that feels less like a fashion statement. Set along the very buzzing stretch of Vajira Road, Ministry of Brands arrives with a promise that instantly captures the imagination: – global luxury redefined for the Sri Lankan shopper. From the structured elegance of Gucci to the timeless sophstication of Ralph Laurent and modern glamour of Michael Kors, the store looks a curated passport to the world’s most desired brands.

Backed by the legacy and strength of Akbar Brothers, this venture singals a confident step forward for Sri Lanka’s retail evolution.

Ministry of Brands (MoB), Sri Lanka’s first off-price retailer, officially opened its doors to the public, marking a new era in the country’s retail landscape.

The 10,000 sq. ft. flagship store, located at Vajira Road, R.A. De Mel Mawatha, Colombo 4, welcomed guests to an exclusive preview recently, offering a first look at its expansive collection of authentic global luxury and premium brands at discounts of up to 90 percent off original retail prices.

Backed by Akbar Brothers, Ministry of Brands introduces the globally established off-price retail model to Sri Lanka and the wider South Asian region. The concept enables customers to purchase genuine designer and brand-name products at significantly reduced prices, with new pieces landing and replenishing in store daily, offering a dynamic “treasure-hunt” shopping experience and a constantly changing selection.

Off-price retail remains one of the fastest-growing global retail segments, enabling fashion houses to manage excess inventory while responsibly expanding access to premium products.

: Director of Mob, Aamir Akbarally; Chairman of Akbar Brothers, Tyeab Akbarally and Chairman of Mob, Hussain Akbarally

: Where style meets statement

: Fashion experience

: New chapter in luxury retail

: Curated elegance

: Fashion finds its finest expression

Offering more than 2,000 international brands sourced from Europe and the United States, the store features a wide range of categories, including womenswear, menswear, childrenswear, footwear, handbags, accessories, performance wear and homeware. Renowned global labels available at M.O.B include Valentino, Salvatore Ferragamo, DKNY, Michael Kors, Ralph Lauren, Farm Rio, Staud, Alice + Olivia, Burberry, Rag & Bone, Lacoste, Puma, UGG, HOKA, Brooks and Air Jordan, among many others.

Commenting on the launch, Director Aamir Akbarally stated: “We are very excited to finally make authentic global luxury and premium brands more accessible and affordable to Sri Lankans. Ministry of Brands signals the beginning of a new era in Sri Lanka’s retail sector. The response so far has been fantastic, as a family-owned business, we shall always be committed to delivering genuine value, transparency and a world-class shopping experience built on longstanding values of integrity, quality and trust.”

Director Ramzey Hammoud added: “Off-price retail is globally recognised for its ability to combine value with sustainability. Our customers can now shop designer brands locally at the best possible prices, while enjoying a constantly evolving selection of products that makes every visit unique.”

Following its Colombo flagship launch, Ministry of Brands is set to open its second location at One Galle Face Mall in March 2026. Ministry of Brands is open from 10.00 am to 10.00 pm every day. For more information, visit www.ministryofbrands.com.

By Zanita Careem

Life style

On His Birthday, The Man Who Gave Sri Lanka’s Silent Creatures a Voice

Published

4 days ago

2026/03/1

Thilina Walpola

Puntius kelumi. Named in recognition of Kelum's invaluable contribution to ichthyology.

On a quiet morning, as Dr. Kelum Manamendra-Arachchi celebrates another year of life, it is not difficult to imagine him where he has always belonged—somewhere between forest and memory, between bone and history, between the living and the extinct.

For more than 25 years, he has shared his knowledge generously with the Sunday Island, often referring to it with unmistakable affection as his favourite newspaper. To generations of readers, he has been more than a scientist.

He has been an interpreter of the natural world, a man who helped Sri Lanka see itself more clearly.

His life’s work has unfolded not in pursuit of recognition, but in pursuit of truth.

Sri Lanka, an island small in size but vast in biological richness, holds within its forests and streams a remarkable concentration of life. Yet, for much of the 20th century, many of its smallest and most fragile creatures lived and vanished without scientific record.

The pioneering zoological work of P.E.P. Deraniyagala had once drawn the world’s attention to the island, but the decades that followed saw fewer explorers willing to continue that difficult journey of discovery.

It was into that silence that Kelum Manamendra-Arachchi quietly stepped.

His fascination with animals began in childhood, when he joined the Young Zoologists’ Association at the Dehiwala Zoo. It was there, among cages and curiosity, that he first learned the discipline of observation. He was not content simply to see. He wanted to understand.

: Museum study led by Kelum

: Field inspection

That desire would shape his destiny.

While still young, he was invited to assist researchers in identifying animal bones recovered during archaeological excavations. It was a rare responsibility, and he approached it with uncommon seriousness. Where others saw fragments, he saw identity. Where others saw remains, he saw continuity.

Bones became his language.

In the early 1990s, his meeting with conservationist and taxonomist Rohan Pethiyagoda marked a turning point—not just in his life, but in Sri Lanka’s scientific history. Together, they helped build the Wildlife Heritage Trust, an institution dedicated to uncovering the island’s hidden biodiversity.

At the time, many of Sri Lanka’s amphibians, reptiles, and small mammals remained scientifically invisible. They existed in forests and streams, unnamed and unrecognised.

Dr. Manamendra-Arachchi set out to change that.

His search took him across continents to the great natural history museums of Britain, France, India, and Singapore. There, in quiet halls filled with preserved specimens, he compared bones and bodies, carefully tracing the identity of species across time and geography. It was meticulous, patient work—the work of someone who understood that discovery begins with attention.

In 1996, he co-authored a landmark study on Sri Lanka’s amphibians, reshaping scientific understanding of these delicate creatures. But it was in 2005 that his work would astonish the global scientific community.

In a single paper, he and his colleagues described 27 new species of shrub frogs—an extraordinary achievement that revealed Sri Lanka as one of the world’s most important centres of amphibian diversity. Scientists around the world turned their attention to the island, newly aware of the richness that had long remained hidden.

Through his work, Sri Lanka’s forests began to speak.

Yet Dr. Manamendra-Arachchi understood that science must not remain confined to laboratories or journals. It must belong to people. In 2007, he published a book on Sri Lanka’s amphibians in Sinhala, opening the doors of knowledge to young students across the country. For many, it became a first step into scientific discovery.

He did not merely document biodiversity. He inspired those who would protect it.

Sri Lanka amphibian hot spot -The Island exclusively reported

His work extended beyond living species into deep time itself. Through the study of fossil remains found in Sri Lanka’s ancient gem-bearing gravels, he reconstructed animals that had vanished thousands of years ago. With scientific precision and artistic insight, he brought extinct creatures back into human understanding.

He reminded us that Sri Lanka’s story is older than memory.

Those who know him personally speak of his remarkable ability to connect science with life. He can move effortlessly from discussing frog evolution to ancient civilisations, from fossil anatomy to art and philosophy. His lectures are filled not only with knowledge, but with wonder.

He is, above all, a teacher.

In recognition of his immense contributions, the University of Sri Jayewardenepura awarded him an honorary doctorate in 2022. Species have been named in his honour, ensuring his legacy will remain permanently embedded in the natural world he helped reveal.

Yet he remains unchanged—quiet, thoughtful, and deeply committed to discovery.

Even today, he continues his work, guiding students, advising researchers, and sharing his knowledge with the public.

His curiosity remains undiminished, his purpose undisturbed by time.

On his birthday (Feb 16) it is fitting that Sri Lanka pauses to reflect on his extraordinary journey.

For he did more than study animals.

He gave identity to the unnamed.

He gave meaning to the forgotten.

He gave Sri Lanka a deeper understanding of itself.

And in forests where bones still lie hidden beneath fallen leaves, waiting patiently for someone to listen, Dr. Kelum Manamendra-Arachchi continues to hear their stories.

By Ifham Nizam

Life style

Gift of life: Honouring the heroes behind every kidney transplant

Published

4 days ago

2026/03/1

Thilina Walpola

Moment of gratitude and hope as medical professionals gather to honour the gift of life through organ donation

At the core of Jayewardene Hospital is the Organ Transplant Unit. For hundreds of patients suffering from end stage organ failure, the hospital has become a place of renewed possibility. Many arrive after years of dialysis, physical exhaustion and emotional strain. Through transplants they are given not extended life but return to normaly For the doctors each transplant is a responsibility. For the recipients it is a new beginning. And for donor families it is a way for love to endure beyond loss.

The Organ Donation Day at Sri Jayewardenepura General Hospital unfolded as a deeply moving tribute to life, loss and the extraordinary courages that connects the two. Bringing together donor families, medical professionals and survivors whose lives have been transformed, the event was not merely ceremonial but it was profoundly humane.

From the very beginning, there was a quiet stillness, it was the kind of stillness that carried a Semotion unspoken yet deeply felt.

Families walked in with holding memories and a strength that only those who have lived and lost can truly understand. Yet beneath the grief there was something else. There was purpose, because here loved ones were not only remembered, but celebrated for the lives they continue to hold.

At the heart of all, stood doctors and the transplanted teams, the quiet bridge between lost and life. For them organ donation is not simply clinical, it is deeply personal. They carry the weight and hope often with the same moment.

: A team bound by purpose-saving lives

One of the most poignant moments of the ceremony was the presentation of white roses to the families of the donors.

Simple but pure and deeply symbolic, each white rose represented remembrance, peace and the enduring hearts of life given selflessly. As each flower was handed over, there were tears but also quiet smiles.

It was a kind gesture that said what words often cannot, and never forgotten. The lighting of the traditional oil lamp further deepend the emotion of the day. Each flame symoblised a life carried forward ,a reminder that even in loss, there is light.

Dr Niroshan Seneviratne,visionary behind Jayewardene Hospital transplant surgery

This ceremony was organised by the Organ Donation and Transplantation Trust Fund based at Sri Jayewardenepura General Hospital.

This fund was co-founded by Dr. Niroshan Seneviratne, Consultant Urogolist and Transplant Surgeon Dr. Chamila Pilimatalawwe Consultant Anaesiologist and Dr. Chintana Galphitiyawa Consultant Nephrologist. The Chief Guest was Ven. Professor Medgampitiye Wijithadhamma, Guest of honour.was Peter D’Almeida The special guest was Dr. Hansaka Wijemanu ,Deputy Minister of Health. Other special included Dr. Dammika Alahpperuma, MP Dewanande sSuraweera ,Chairman of the hospital Dr Thamara Kalubowila, Director of the hospital Dr Dhammika Alahahaperuma, Sandya Tennekoon and Kareem Amath, Board of Trustee member, Dr Gamini Samarasekera, Auditor Dr Chanaka Abeyratne, consultant Nephrologist

As the proceedings began, the families stood motionless, united by circumstances but compassion and shared humanity. Throughtout the ceremony one message resonated deeply, Organ Donation is not about statistics or procedures it is about people. It is about finding meaning even in the most difficult goodbyes. Among the many voices, the transplant surgeon Dr. Niroshan Seneviratne, a name deeply respected in the country’s transplant landscape, spoke with quiet conviction .Dr. Seneviratne reflected on the journey of organ transplantation in Sri Lanka. Every donar is a hero he emphasised, his voice steady yet filled with emotion “Behind every transplant is a family that chose to give life in their darkest hour.”

Sri Lanka’s organ transplant programmes has steadily grown over the years, particularly in Kidney transplants, offering hope to thousands of chronic renal diseases. This day also honoured the tireless medical teams working behind the screen, surgeons, ICU staff volunteers. Their work often unseen, is nothing short of extraordinary. Organ Transplant Day is not just a date on the calender. It is a celebration of life, of giving, and of the extraordinary power of human kindness.