Life style

A Sticky Sri Lankan Dessert Steeped in History

Published

3 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)

All News Advertisement

Related Topics:dodol rice flour Sticky Sri Lankan Dessert

Up Next

Celebrating 75th anniversary of diplomatic relations between Sri Lanka and France

Don't Miss

Feast of flavours and colours

Click to comment

Life style

Nanda Malini Ascocenda: A flower that carries the name of a legendary voice

Published

18 hours ago

2026/08/30

Thilina Walpola

By Ifham Nizam

A flower named after one of Sri Lanka’s most celebrated voices has become a unique tribute to the country’s cultural heritage, with the Nanda Malini Ascocenda orchid carrying the name of veteran singer Dr. Nanda Malini.

The orchid was named in honour of Nanda Malini, recognising her outstanding contribution to Sri Lankan music and culture. She is among the country’s most acclaimed singers, with a career spanning several decades and a repertoire deeply rooted in Sri Lankan social and cultural experiences.

The striking illustration, released by the Ministry of Environment on August 21, features the veteran singer surrounded by colourful orchids and musical notes, bringing together two important elements of Sri Lankan identity — the country’s rich natural heritage and its musical tradition.

The Nanda Malini Ascocenda is particularly significant because it represents an unusual meeting point between art and nature. Orchids have long been associated with Sri Lanka’s botanical wealth, while the naming of individual hybrids after distinguished personalities provides a lasting link between the country’s natural and cultural heritage.

According to published accounts, the Nanda Malini Ascocenda was named in 2004 in recognition of the singer.

A recent profile described her as possibly the only Sri Lankan artiste to have an orchid named after her by the Orchid Circle of Sri Lanka.

Nanda Malini’s contribution to music has been recognised through numerous awards. She has also performed internationally and remains one of the most recognised figures in Sri Lankan music.

Her association with songs reflecting social realities, human emotions and national identity has given her a special place in the country’s cultural landscape.

The orchid, therefore, represents more than a botanical curiosity. It is a living tribute to an artiste whose voice has accompanied generations of Sri Lankans.

The Ministry of Environment’s presentation also serves as a reminder that conservation is not limited to forests, wildlife and ecosystems. Sri Lanka’s natural heritage is closely intertwined with its history, culture, art and the people who have enriched the nation’s identity.

As the colourful blooms of the Nanda Malini Ascocenda evoke the beauty of Sri Lanka’s orchid heritage, the name attached to them ensures that the contribution of one of the country’s most distinguished musical voices continues to live on in an entirely different form — through nature itself.

Life style

The Best of Malkoha celebrates half a century of Sri Lankan ornithological writings

Published

18 hours ago

2026/08/30

Thilina Walpola

Distinguished gathering

By Ifham Nizam

The launch of The Best of Malkoha: Half a Century of Ornithological Writings marked a significant milestone in Sri Lanka’s birdwatching and conservation history, as the Field Ornithology Group of Sri Lanka (FOGSL) celebrated its Golden Jubilee at the Faculty of Science, University of Colombo.

The book, drawn from five decades of writings published in Malkoha, the FOGSL newsletter, brings together a rich record of observations, discoveries and experiences that helped shape modern field ornithology in Sri Lanka.

The launch formed part of FOGSL’s first-ever Founders’ Day, held on August 22, a date chosen to coincide with the 76th birthday of Vidyajothi Emeritus Professor Sarath Kotagama, one of the Organisation’s founding figures and its enduring source of inspiration.

The occasion brought together academics, conservationists, naturalists, birdwatchers, students, young birders and members of FOGSL, reflecting the broad community that the organisation has cultivated since its establishment in 1976.

Section of the invitees

Biodiversity expert Dr. Rohan Pethiyagoda, delivering the Golden Jubilee Founders’ Day Oration, used the occasion to reflect on five decades of biodiversity research and conservation in Sri Lanka, while paying tribute to Professor Kotagama and the role played by FOGSL in taking birdwatching beyond a small circle of specialists.

Pethiyagoda said the organisation’s greatest achievement had been its ability to make knowledge of birds and nature accessible to ordinary people.

He recalled how, in the early 1990s, Professor Kotagama had proposed producing an affordable field guide so that birdwatching would no longer be restricted by the high cost of existing publications.

That resulted in the publication of A Field Guide to the Birds of Sri Lanka in 1994, which Pethiyagoda published and which subsequently became a bestseller.

The collaboration later produced Sri Lanka Kurulu in Sinhala, making serious bird identification and knowledge available to an even wider audience.

Pethiyagoda recalled a particularly emotional encounter that demonstrated the lasting impact of that work.

During a recent visit to Talangama to accompany Australian birdwatchers, he encountered two boys, aged around 12 and 14, carrying a battered copy of Sri Lanka Kurulu and using it to identify birds.

“I just started crying,” Pethiyagoda said, describing the moment as evidence of how knowledge had been passed from one generation to another.

: Prof Nihal Dayawansa

: Dr. Pethiyagoda

: Prof Kotagama

: Birthday celebration

He said the achievements of the past 50 years should not be underestimated. Sri Lanka has witnessed major advances in health, education, infrastructure and conservation, while the country’s protected-area network has expanded considerably.

At the same time, however, he warned that biodiversity research and conservation continue to face serious institutional challenges.

Pethiyagoda pointed to habitat fragmentation, climate change, inadequate scientific research and restrictions on field research as major challenges facing the next generation of conservationists.

He said climate change would increasingly force species to move towards cooler, higher elevations, but fragmented habitats could prevent them from making such movements.

“Our challenge now is to connect up those little fragments so that plants and animals can migrate across these landscapes,” he said, stressing the importance of restoring ecological connectivity.

He also called for greater investment in ex-situ conservation for species facing extinction and urged the establishment of conservation facilities across Sri Lanka’s different climatic zones.

Pethiyagoda placed particular emphasis on citizen science, arguing that Sri Lanka possessed an enormous reservoir of public enthusiasm for biodiversity.

He noted that more than 20,000 Sri Lankans were now involved in citizen science through platforms such as iNaturalist, with Sri Lankan users generating significant biodiversity data.

“The appetite for science, the appetite for conservation, for exploration, for discovery is there in the people,” he said.

Pethiyagoda also paid an emotional tribute to Professor Kotagama, describing him as the constant force behind much of Sri Lanka’s modern conservation movement.

“In future generations, we will talk of conservation in this country as before Kotagama and after Kotagama,” he said.

He also acknowledged Professor Kotagama’s wife, Namali, for being the “bedrock” of his household and for supporting his decades-long contribution to conservation.

The Golden Jubilee celebrations also looked back at the origins of FOGSL.

The Organisation was founded on October 10, 1976, when four passionate bird enthusiasts—the late P. B. Karunaratne, Professor S.U.K. Ekaratne, Professor Sarath Kotagama and Rex I De Silva —came together with a shared objective of making birdwatching accessible beyond the relatively exclusive group that had traditionally dominated the field.

FOGSL was subsequently formally recognised by the University of Colombo and developed as a platform bringing together birdwatchers, researchers, students, educators and nature enthusiasts.

Its philosophy was simple: one did not need an academic qualification to become a member. Enthusiasm, careful observation, recording and sharing knowledge were enough.

That principle continues to define the Organisation.

FOGSL has since become Sri Lanka’s BirdLife International partner and has played an important role in bird research, conservation, environmental education, field studies, school programmes and citizen science.

Its work has extended from research on endemic birds and migratory species to biodiversity monitoring, conservation education and programmes aimed at children and young people.

Speaking at the event, FOGSL President Professor Nihal Dayawansa said the organisation’s founding vision remained relevant even after half a century.

The Organisation, he noted, was created not simply as a birdwatching club but as a platform through which people could study and conserve Sri Lanka’s birds while inspiring the wider public to appreciate nature.

The Founders’ Day itself was described as an opportunity to honour those who established and shaped the Organisation while celebrating the contribution of generations of members.

Professor Mayuri Wijeyasinghe, Head of the Department of Zoology and Environmental Sciences, said FOGSL had given ornithology a new meaning in Sri Lanka by taking birdwatching beyond an elite community and making it accessible to ordinary people and schoolchildren.

She noted that Sri Lanka, as a tropical island with a remarkable diversity of birds and a high level of endemism, had a special responsibility to understand and conserve its avifauna.

The Dean of the Faculty of Science, Professor I.M.K. Fernando, meanwhile, said that although his own field was physics, he recognised the common foundation shared by all branches of science—curiosity.

He congratulated FOGSL on reaching 50 years and praised its contribution to research, education, student development, wetland conservation, public awareness and science-based advice on development projects.

“The work goes far beyond publishing,” he said, noting the Organisation’s lectures, school programmes, research projects and conservation initiatives.

He also paid tribute to Professor Kotagama, describing him as a legend whose influence had extended well beyond ornithology.

Professor Kotagama, speaking after receiving tributes from colleagues and friends, said the Organisation’s foundations had been laid with a belief that people could make a difference.

He stressed the importance of taking decisions based on scientific knowledge and criticised excessive bureaucratic barriers that, in his view, prevented scientists from carrying out important field research.

Reflecting on his own period as Director of Wildlife Conservation, he said he had sought to transform the Department into a scientific institution.

“For me and for us who were working in the Mahaweli environment programme at that time, we knew that if not for science, you cannot go forward in conservation,”

Professor Kotagama said, stressing that conservation required both natural and social sciences.

He recalled the challenges faced by the Department, including inadequate staffing structures and poor career progression for wildlife officers, and said efforts had been made to introduce a more professional and scientifically grounded system.

The 50-year journey of FOGSL is closely intertwined with the development of modern field ornithology in Sri Lanka.

From the early days when birdwatching was largely confined to a small group of specialists, the Organisation helped create a culture in which students, schoolchildren, amateur birdwatchers and citizen scientists could contribute to the understanding of the country’s biodiversity.

The launch of The Best of Malkoha, therefore, served as more than the unveiling of another publication. It was a record of that transformation.

The writings collected in the volume represent five decades of observations and experiences, documenting how Sri Lankan field ornithology evolved through the work of generations of birdwatchers, researchers and conservationists.

As theOorganisation enters its next half century, the message emerging from the Golden Jubilee celebrations was clear: the future of conservation will depend not only on institutions and scientists but also on an informed and empowered public.

FOGSL’s enduring motto—”Once a member, always a member”—perhaps best captures that legacy: a lifelong connection with birds, nature, scientific observation and the responsibility to protect Sri Lanka’s extraordinary natural heritage.

Life style

Heart that beats for humanity

Published

18 hours ago

2026/08/30

Thilina Walpola

Dr Rajitha Y de Silva: Healing hearts, saving lives

Dr. Rajitha de Silva

By Zanita Careem

Dr. Rajitha Y. de Silva, Consultant Cardiothoracic Surgeon and Consultant at Sri Jayewardenepura General Hospital, has built a distinguished career around one of medicine’s most demanding discipline – surgery of the heart. With his expertise, precision and pioneering spirit, he has become closely associated with the advancement of Minimally Invasive Cardiac surgery in Sri Lanka. He joined Sri Jayewardenpura General Hospital in 2013 and is today recognised as a pioneer of Minimally Invasive Cardiacs procedures in the country.

He is particulary recognised as a pioneer of mimimallyinvasive surgery in Sri lanka,with experience in procedures including minimally invasive coronary surgery and mitral valve repair. He is recognition as a leading figure in the advancement of modern cardiac surgery in the country. With years of specialised training and experience behind him, Dr de Silva has built a reputation in cardiothoracic surgery while remaining deeply conscious of the human story behind every patient who enters the operating theatre. For him, the beating heart is more than an organ to be repaired – it represents a life, a family, a future and a second chance.

His commitment to patients extends well beyond the operating theatre. Having witnessed the financial hardships faced by heart patients who desperately needed surgery but could not afford it. Dr de Silva, together with Senior Cardiologist Dr. Ruwan Ekanayake, co-founded the Heart to Heart Trust Fund.

The initiative was created with a powerful objective, that no patient should be denied life saving cardiac treatment simply because of financial difficulties.

Perhaps one of the most striking aspects of Dr de Silva’s personality is that his concern for patients does not end when the operation is over. His vision has included creating initiatives that make the difficult journey of cardiac patients more humane, giving them encouragement, dignity and hope during a period when they are often at their most vulnerable. Abayadhana was born from a simple but powerful conviction that every patient deserves a chance to live.

Through the Abayadhana programme, he represents his compassionate approach to caring for people who need not only medical attention, but also understanding, encouragement and support. What makes this initiative particularity meaningful is the personal commitment behind it. It reflects his belief that healing is not only about medicine, but about reaching out to people when they are most vulnerable.

Away from the intensity of the operating theatre, Dr. Rajitha de Silva finds another kind of joy – his passion for cricket over the years; he has taken the field in numerous matches, playing alongside and against many well known personalties.

Dr. Rajitha de Silva’s journey is guided by compassion and success anchored in humanity. From pioneering milestones in cardiac surgery to the Heart to Heart Trust Fund and the Abayadhana initiative, he has continued to give back to the people whose lives he touches. His love for cricket, his warmth and generosity reveal the heart behind the healing hands.

A surgeon by profession, a humanitarian by choice and a cricketer by heart, Dr. Rajitha’s greatest legacy may not be measured only by the operations he has performed, but by the lives he has changed, the hope he has restored and the hearts he has touched.

The trustees of the Heart to Heart Trust Fund stand united behind the mission of saving lives and giving hope. Their collective commitment helps turn the Trust’s vision into meaningful support for patients and families in need

The Executive Director, Heart to Heart Trust Fund, Shanti Fernando, plays a hands on role in turning the Trust’s vision into action, coordinating efforts, and bringing hope where it is needed.

Behind Dr. Rajitha de Silva’s demanding life is his wife, Dr. Arunie, and children, who has been his strength and support.