Life style

Jack of all fruits the “Vegan Sensation “

Published

3 years ago

2023/02/26

Sri Lankans began planting jackfruit trees to gain food self-sufficiency during British rule, and they’ve since helped islanders avoid starvation.

My mother grew up in a house of eight people in Kurunegala, Sri Lanka, 100km north-east of Colombo. During the island’s severe droughts in the 1970s, most of her family’s humble, home-cooked meals consisted of boiled jackfruit served in a clay pot with a handful of freshly grated coconut. This simple, carb-rich meal fused with natural fats fuelled enough energy for the farmer-family to toil day and night in the dry plains.

Today, Starbucks serves jackfruit in wraps, while Pizza Hut offers it as a topping. The London Evening Standard called jackfruit “the new kimchi, kale and cauliflower all rolled into one”.

Pinterest named it “the hottest food trend of 2017”, and more recently, The Guardian declared it “a vegan sensation” thanks to its shredded meat texture.

But for my mother, her memories of growing up are studded with her eldest sister’s myriad jackfruit dishes. She’s particularly fond of kiri kos, a creamy jackfruit curry cooked in coconut milk. For kiri kos, my aunt plucked unripe jackfruits. Decades later in the early 2000s, it was the same tree that pleased my jackfruit cravings as a child. My mother recalls the days where I sat side by side with her as she removed and discarded the sticky white sap – koholla, as she called it in Sinhala – from ripe jackfruit, gobbling up each yellow, egg-like pod.

I loved the strong smell of the ripe fruit. People in the West often describe it as “stinky”, but for me, other Sri Lankans and those living between many parts of India and the rainforests of Malaysia where the fruit naturally grows, this seasonal smell of ripe jackfruit brings immense joy.

Jackfruit is the world’s largest tree-borne fruit and it has a spiky skin that changes colour from green to yellow as it ripens. We use unripe jackfruit in our cooking and eat the ripe fruit raw, just as we eat a ripe mango or an apple. While the West is now touting it as an ethical meat alternative, for centuries, this humble fruit has been revered by Sri Lankans, as it has repeatedly saved the island from starvation.

Across Sri Lanka, the jackfruit tree is known as bath gasa (“rice tree”). Sri Lankans are rice eaters and pre-colonial Sri Lanka took pride in the country’s vast reservoirs and irrigation canals that harnessed monsoon rains, supplying water for paddy cultivation. But when British forces occupied the island starting in 1815 and subsequently stripped farmers of their land, they made it difficult for islanders to grow rice and instead expanded plantation crops such as tea, rubber and cinnamon for their export gains.

In 1915, a member of Sri Lanka’s independence movement named Arthur V Dias, who had been sentenced to death by the British for his perceived role in an uprising, was freed from prison. Upon his release, Dias dedicated himself to helping Sri Lankans fight British rule and he realized that islanders would soon face food shortages as rice cultivation continued to decline.

During his independence movement marches in Sri Lanka’s central highlands, he also saw the destruction of the island’s native jackfruit trees. When he learnt about the harrowing food shortages caused by World War One across Europe, Dias sought to establish food security and self-sufficiency throughout Sri Lanka.

“One person can’t build a tank for paddy cultivation, but Arthur V Dias realized he could plant jackfruit trees, which [would] be the same as rice and eradicate starvation in Sri Lanka,” said Damith Amarasinghe, a history teacher at St Mary’s Maha Viduhala in the town of Uswetakeiyawa.

Dias came up with the ambitious goal of planting one million jackfruit trees across Sri Lanka. A planter by occupation, Dias imported jackfruit seeds from Malaysia and gathered healthy seeds for germination. He visited villages to distribute seedlings and mailed seeds to far-flung corners in the country. Over time, Dias’ campaign paved the way to many successful jackfruit plantations across the country and earned him the heroic nickname of Kos Mama, or Uncle Jack.

Today, Dias is considered a national hero, and like most Sri Lankan children, I first learned about Dias in a school textbook. His jackfruit campaign also helped establish food security in Sri Lanka during World War Two while nearby places such as Bengal and Vietnam experienced horrific famines in the 1940s. Amarasinghe explained that jackfruit was also known as the “starvation fruit” in Sri Lanka during the 1970s, fleetingly transferring me to my mother’s memories of her childhood.

In the 1970s, a combination of inflation, droughts and a food shortage pushed Sri Lanka to the verge of collapse. A 1974 New York Times article quotes Sri Lanka’s then-prime minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike as saying the dire economic situation has “almost squeezed the breath out of us – we are literally fighting to survive”.

But thanks to Dias’ campaign in the early 1900s, people had jackfruit growing in their backyards. Amarasinghe explained that those saplings – which had become tall, fruit-bearing trees long before the 1970s – are what got people through the crisis.

“My grandmother hailed from a well-to-do family, but the government only allowed them to purchase 2kg of rice for a week. During these years, it’s jackfruit that kept them fed,” Amarasinghe told me.

Most recently, Amarasinghe says that jackfruit also became a staple during Sri Lanka’s months-long curfew to control Covid-19. During the initial weeks of the pandemic, many people in rural villages lost their incomes and it took weeks or even months for government welfare programmes to reach these remote hamlets. Without access to money or food, many villagers resorted to boiling jackfruit – just as my mother’s family did in the 1970s.

But jackfruit isn’t just a starvation fruit. The island’s deep love and gratitude for jackfruit has birthed a host of flavourful delicacies, and we welcome every bit of it into our diverse cuisine. Tender baby jackfruit without seeds go into a flavourful curry known as polos ambula. The curry’s labour-intensive process involves slow cooking the young fruit in a clay pot over an earthen fire for at least six hours. As the hours pass, the baby jackfruit slices simmer in a spice-infused coconut broth, soaking up the flavours of cloves, cardamom, dried tamarind and other aromats.

Ripe jackfruit pods are slimy and taste better with a sprinkle of salt. Seeds don’t go to waste in our homes; we eat them boiled. When combined with a ground mix of pan-fried rice and shredded coconut, boiled seeds make for a dark curry called kos ata kalu pol maluwa. My mother loves seeds as a snack, smoking them over a charcoal fire.

My favourite is my father’s kos ata aggala, pan-roasted and ground jackfruit seeds blended with scraped coconut, sugar and a hint of pepper that are formed into balls for sublime taste and a subtle crunch. He makes them for evening tea when I’m home as a token of his love.

This jack-of-all-fruits’ versatility runs beyond the kitchen. “It’s hard to think of another tree with so many uses,” said Diwani Welitharage, a pharmacist who cooks with locally sourced ingredients in her spare time. Welitharage cites jackfruit trees’ popularity as timber and the many uses of its leaves and flowers in Ayurvedic medicine to treat diabetes. Rich in carbs, jackfruit is also a good source of dietary fibre and vitamin C.

Welitharage uses jackfruit flour in muffins and cakes, and fries sliced jackfruit pods into chips laden with sugar. Similarly, many Hela Bojun restaurants – an initiative by the Ministry of Agriculture allowing women to cook traditional Sri Lankan cuisine and earn a living – prepare kos kottu. Kottu, a popular street food and hangover cure, is a greasy mix of leftover flatbread, sliced vegetables, eggs and meat. The female-run Hela Bojun stalls dish up a healthier vegan kottu using boiled jackfruit pods.

Though jackfruit is traditionally cooked at home, this humble fruit is increasingly found in many upscale restaurants across the country.

“One day we had additional baby jackfruit, so I thought of preparing cutlets [a croquette-like snack] with it for guests who are vegetarian or vegan,” said chef Wasantha Ranasinghe at Upali’s by Nawaloka, a popular restaurant in Colombo that serves authentic local dishes. His tender jackfruit cutlets, served with a homemade spicy chilli sauce, soon became a hit among the epicureans frequenting the restaurant.

Curious to see how jackfruit fares at hipster cafes, I visited the chic Colombo restaurant Cafe Kumbuk, which plates tacos with fried baby jackfruit alongside mango salsa and guacamole. “Living in Sri Lanka, I realized jackfruit is such a widely available, versatile fruit that can be cooked and enjoyed in so many ways,” said cafe founder Shana Dandeniya, who returned to Sri Lanka a few years ago after growing up in the UK. “To me, it’s one of the greatest local superfoods we have access to, and we should champion it more.” – BBC

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Life style

What I Do, What I Love: A Life Shaped by Art, Wilderness and Truth

Published

2 days ago

2025/12/28

Thilina Walpola

In a country where creative pursuits are often treated as indulgences rather than vocations, Saman Halloluwa’s journey stands apart — carved patiently through brushstrokes, framed through a camera lens, and articulated through the written word. Painter, wildlife and nature photographer, and independent environmental journalist, Halloluwa inhabits a rare space where art, ecology and social responsibility converge.

His relationship with art began not in galleries or exhibitions, but in a classroom. From his school days, drawing was not simply a subject but an instinct — a language through which he learned to observe, interpret and respond to the world around him. Under the guidance of two dedicated mentors, Ariyaratne Guru Mahathaya and Gunathilaka Guru Mahathaya, he honed both skill and discipline. Those early lessons laid the foundation for a lifelong engagement with visual storytelling.

“His work navigates between traditional Sinhala artistic sensibilities, abstract compositions and expansive landscapes.”

That commitment eventually materialised in two solo art exhibitions. The first, held in 2012, marked his formal entry into Sri Lanka’s art scene. The second, staged in Colombo in 2024, was a more mature statement — both in content and confidence. Featuring nearly fifty paintings, the exhibition drew an encouraging public response and reaffirmed his place as an artist with a distinct visual voice.

His work navigates between traditional Sinhala artistic sensibilities, abstract compositions and expansive landscapes. There is restraint in his use of form and colour, and an underlying dialogue between memory and space. Yet, despite positive reception, Halloluwa speaks candidly about the structural challenges faced by artists in Sri Lanka. Recognition remains limited; fair valuation even rarer.

“This is not merely an artistic issue,” he observes. “It is a social and economic problem.”

In Sri Lanka, art is often viewed through the lens of affordability rather than artistic merit. Many approach a painting by first calculating the contents of their wallet, not the value of the idea or labour behind it. In contrast, he notes, art in Europe and many other regions is treated as cultural capital — an investment in identity, history and thought. Until this mindset shifts, local artists will continue to struggle for sustainability.

The decisive push toward wildlife photography came from Professor Pujitha Wickramasinghe, a close friend who recognised both Halloluwa’s observational skills and his affinity with nature. From there, the journey deepened under the mentorship of senior wildlife photographer Ravindra Siriwardena.

Both mentors, he insists, deserve acknowledgment not merely as teachers but as ethical compasses. In a field increasingly driven by competition and spectacle, such grounding is invaluable.

Saman Halloluwa

Wildlife photography, Halloluwa argues, is among the most demanding visual disciplines. It cannot be improvised or rushed. “This is an art that demands restraint,” he says.

Among all subjects, elephants hold a special place in his work. Photographing elephants is not merely about proximity or scale, but about understanding behaviour. Observing social patterns, movement, mood and interaction transforms elephant photography into a constantly evolving challenge. It is precisely this complexity that draws him repeatedly to them.

Halloluwa is cautiously optimistic about the current surge of interest in wildlife photography among Sri Lankan youth. Opportunities have expanded, with local and international competitions, exhibitions and platforms becoming more accessible. However, he issues a clear warning: passion alone is not enough

Sri Lanka, he believes, is uniquely positioned in the global nature photography landscape. Few countries offer such concentrated biodiversity within a compact geographical area. This privilege, however, carries responsibility. Nature photography should not merely aestheticise wildlife, but foster respect, aware ness and conservation.

Parallel to his visual work runs another equally significant pursuit — environmental journalism. For the past seven to eight years, Halloluwa has worked as an independent environmental journalist, giving voice to ecological issues often sidelined in mainstream discourse. His entry into the field was guided by Thusara Gunaratne, whose encouragement he acknowledges with gratitude.

An old boy of D.S. Senanayake College, Colombo, Halloluwa holds a Diploma in Writing and Journalism from the University of Sri Jayewardenepura and has completed journalism studies at the Sri Lanka Press Institute. He is currently pursuing an Advanced Certificate in Wildlife Management and Conservation at the Open University of Sri Lanka — a testament to his belief that learning must remain continuous, especially in a rapidly changing ecological landscape.

Outside his professional life, he enjoys cricket, rugby and badminton. Yet even leisure intersects with responsibility. He is a founding member and former president of the D.S. Senanayake College Old Boys’ Wildlife Forum, an active member of Wild Tuskers Sri Lanka, and a contributor to several independent environmental and wildlife volunteer organisations. In an era dominated by speed, spectacle and short attention spans, Saman Halloluwa’s journey unfolds differently. It is deliberate, reflective and rooted in values. Through art, he captures memory and form. Through photography, he frames life beyond human control. Through journalism, he asks uncomfortable but necessary questions.

“What I do, what I love” is not fashion here.

It is conviction — patiently lived, quietly asserted, and urgently needed in a country still learning how to value its artists, its environment and its truth.

By Ifham Nizam ✍️

Life style

Shaping the future of style

Published

2 days ago

2025/12/28

Thilina Walpola

Pride, passion and professionalism

Ramani Fernando Sunsilk Hair and Beauty Academy

Ramani Fernando Sunsilk Hair and Beauty Academy marked their graduation of their latest cohort of aspiring hair professionals in a ceremony held at Kingsbury Hotel.

Senaka de Silva, creative force behind Ramani’s shows

For over two decades, the Ramani Fernando Sunsilk Hair and Beauty Academy has stood as a beacon of excellence in beauty education in Sri Lanka. Founded by industry icon Ramani Fernando, the Academy has built a reputation for producing highly skilled professionals who go on to make their mark in salons, both locally and internationally. As the newly minted graduates step out into the world, they carry forward not just certificates, but also the promise of creative authority and personal empowerment.

The chief guest for the occasion was Rosy Senanayake, a long-standing supporter of the Academy’s mission. Addressing the graduates her message echoed her enduring belief that the beauty industry is not merely about aesthetic but about. confidence, self-worth and future leaders.

Over months of rigorous training, these young professionals honed their skills in cutting colouring, styling and contemporary artistry readying themselves to set trends rather than follow them.

Each graduate walked the stage with confidence, their dedication signalling a promising future for Sri Lanka’s beauty and fashion industry! With this new generation of stylists preparing to raise the standard of professional hairstyling.

Ramani Fernando, addressing the audience reflected on the academy’s mission to cultivate not only skills but vision and confidence in every student.

She urged the graduates to embrace continuous learning to take risks with creativity .The world of beauty is ever evolving, stay curious, stay bold and never underestimate the power of your talent, she added emphasising the importance of confidence, discipline and passion in carving a successful career in shaping the future of style.

These graduates are stepping into a world of endless possibilities. They are future of the country, who will carry a forward legacy of creativity. Behind every successful graduate at Sun silk Hair Academy stands a team dedicated to excellence. While Ramani Fernando serves as a visionary Principal and it is Lucky Lenagala, her trusted person who ensures that the academy runs seemingly.

From overseeing training sessions to guiding students, through hands on practice, Lucky plays a pivotal role in shaping the next generation of hairstylists.

Kumara de Silva, who has been the official compere Ramani’s, Hair graduation ceremony, from inception has brought energy, poise and professionalism. The Sunsilk Hair Academy is a celebration of talent and mentor ship for the graduates stepping confidentially into the next chapter of their careers, ready to make their mark on Sri Lanka beauty landscape

A moment of pride Ramani with chief guest Rosy Senanayake

Statement in style

Gliding in romance and sophistication

Pix by Thushara Attapathu

By Zanita Careem ✍️

Life style

Capturing the spirit of Christmas

Published

2 days ago

2025/12/28

Thilina Walpola

Romesh Atapaattu, overseas the magic behind every cut and style at Capello salons

During this season, Romesh Atapattu’s Capello Salon buzzes with a unique energy – a blend of festive excitement and elegance. Clients arrive with visions of holiday parties, office soirees, seeking looks that capture both glamour and individuality. The salon itself mirrors this celebrity mood. Warm lights, tasteful festive décor create an atmosphere where beauty and confidence flourish.

Romesh Atapattu himself curates the festive décor, infusing the space with his signature sense of style. His personal eye ensures that the décor complements the salon’s modern interiors.

As Colombo slips effortlessly into its most glamorous time of year, the Christmas season brings with it more than twinkling lights and celebrity soirees – it signals a transformation season at salons across the city. Capello salons are no exception.

At the heart of this festive beauty movement is Romesh Atapattu of Capello salons, a name synonymous with refined hair artistry, modern elegance and personalised style.

Christmas is about confidence and celebration. Romesh believes ‘People want to look their best without losing who they are”. Our role is to enhance, not overpower. This philosophy is evident in the salon’s seasonal approach.

Beyond trends, what sets Atapattu apart is the attention to individuality. Each consultation is treated as a creative collaboration – face shape, lifestyle, hair texture and personal style all play a role in creating the best for Romesh.

Stepping into Romesh’s salon during the Christmas season is an experience in itself. The space hums with festive energy while maintaining an atmosphere of calm sophistication.

The décor embraces the Christmas spirit with understated elegance. Tastefully adorned décor, beautiful Xmas tree, soft gold and ivory tones, and gentle hints of red are woven seamlessly into the salon’s contemporary design.

His staff, known for their warmth and professionalism also plays a key role in shaping the salon’s atmosphere—friendly, stylish and always welcoming. The Capello staff combine skill and creativity to deliver results that have a lasting impression.

Beyond trends, what sets Romesh Atapattu apart is the attention to individuality. Each consultation is treated as a creative collaboration – face shape, lifestyle, hair texture and personal style all play a role.

He is a professional who blends technical mastery with a deeply personal approach to style. His dedicated team of skilled professionals, operate with quiet confidence ensuring styles that create an atmosphere of trust, turning every appointment into a personalised and memorable experience.

(ZC) ✍️

Pic by Rohan Herath