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

Sri Lanka eyes conservation-led tourism boost as Gehan urges integrated approach

Published

3 days ago

2026/04/26

Thilina Walpola

View of Trincomalee from Fort Frederick

Sri Lanka could unlock a powerful new economic pathway by integrating biodiversity, archaeology and cultural heritage into a single conservation-driven tourism model, according to author, banker and naturalist Gehan de Silva Wijeyeratne.

Speaking to The Island, de Silva Wijeyeratne said the country possesses a rare convergence of natural and historical assets that, if strategically presented, could reposition Sri Lanka as a leading global destination for nature and heritage tourism.

“At the moment, these elements exist, but they are not fully connected,” he said. “What Sri Lanka has is extraordinary—a complete story of life, from ancient history to modern biodiversity. The opportunity is to bring that together in a way that creates value.”

His remarks come at a time when policymakers are seeking sustainable avenues to revive the economy, with tourism identified as a key growth sector. De Silva Wijeyeratne is currently researching his next book, ‘Enchanting Sri Lanka’ to be published by John Beaufoy Publishing in the UK.

Koneswaram Temple Trincomalee

He said his recent field visit reinforced the untapped potential of integrated landscapes—particularly in the eastern region around Trincomalee.

He spent four days in Trincomalee with Hiran and Hashan Coory, two members of the senior leadership in Jetwing Hotels. Commenting on the visit, he said “Within a short distance, you have forests, marine ecosystems, archaeological sites and protected areas. This is not about isolated attractions—it’s about creating a connected experience that can compete globally.”

He noted that such an approach could continue to transform Sri Lanka’s tourism model beyond traditional beach-centric travel. “You can offer visitors wildlife, marine biodiversity and ancient history in a single journey,” he said. “That’s a very powerful proposition.”

Speaking more on Trincomalee’s potential, he said the combination of ancient history, the more recent colonial history and buildings, the beautiful beaches and coves, the snorkelling and marine mammal watching combined with the potential to create a huge national park that will have large mammals on the doorstep of the city means Trincomalee can become the city with the greatest tourism potential of any city in Sri Lanka.

Maritime and Naval History Museum Trincomalee

“A vast national park on the scale of better-known parks such as Wilpattu and Yala can be created by connecting the forest reserves which stretch from Kantalai and through to the Naval Headworks Sanctuary, almost to the borders of the Trincomalee town” he says. “A new national park could be constructed with a network of safari roads and water holes and grass plains to increase the prey density for iconic mammals like the leopard. Trincomalee can then become a top land safari destination with an entrance gate to a national park just 15 minutes drive from the town. No other city will be able to rival it for land safaris, marine safaris, ancient and colonial history, staggering views and beaches and the heady mix of various ethnic groups with their religious beliefs, cuisine and arts. Trincomalee could overshadow every other city in Sri Lanka for tourism if developed properly”.

Velgam Vehera

De Silva Wijeyeratne emphasised that conservation must be positioned not as a constraint, but as an economic enabler. “If you encourage and enable responsible visitation, it brings revenues to these areas,” he said. “That supports conservation and also creates livelihoods for local communities.”

However, he cautioned that development must be carefully managed to avoid damaging sensitive ecosystems. “You need development that is sensitive to these landscapes and the proper infrastructure to manage visitation,” he said. “The value lies in preserving what is already there.”

In addition to tourism, de Silva Wijeyeratne highlighted the need to strengthen Sri Lanka’s conservation capacity through international collaboration. He has proposed the introduction of a special visa to attract experienced global conservationists willing to work on a voluntary basis.

He referenced his article ‘A visa for bringing in expertise and expanding tourism’ which was published in The Island on Friday, 23 May, 2025, and is available online. In this he proposes a special visa to address four strands – volunteering, internships, academic exchange and short term study. The idea is that the visa should be as easy as to obtain an online tourist visa, but the visitor can now apply for a longer term visa for a declared purpose, such as volunteering.

Gehan de Silva Wijeyeratne

He was careful to emphasise that the proposed visa is not for paid work and does not give the visitor special rights, and any relevant permits and permission need be obtained by the local partner. “There are people with 30 or 40 years of experience in research and conservation who would gladly come to Sri Lanka and contribute” he said. “If we create a proper framework, they can work with local organisations, share knowledge and build expertise.” Such a system, he stressed, would not undermine local employment. “These are unpaid roles—they are not taking jobs away. Furthermore, they will help locals to upskill,” he said. “They are helping to strengthen the system.”

De Silva Wijeyeratne also underscored the importance of science communication in driving conservation outcomes. Drawing from his recent lecture to the Wildlife and Nature Protection Society, he said public understanding of biodiversity remains limited, particularly when it comes to foundational elements, such as plant life. “In my recent lecture I started with plants because they are often overlooked,” he said. “In Sri Lanka we have the descendants of ancient plant groups, like lycophytes and bryophytes, as well as an abundance of the relatively more modern flowering plants (or angiosperms). They all form the basis of all ecosystems.” Sri Lankan researchers would benefit from international collaborations to describe and study the ecology of species found in Sri Lanka. As an example of the gaps in our knowledge, he pointed that it is hard to find online even a species inventory of Sri Lankan species of Lycophytes.

He further highlighted the interconnected nature of life, pointing to the role of microscopic organisms. “Every cell in our body contains mitochondria, and that DNA originated from bacteria,” he said. “So we are, in a sense, composite organisms built on ancient biological relationships. “This perspective, he said, is critical to fostering a deeper appreciation of biodiversity and the need for its conservation. “If people understand how interconnected life is, they begin to value it differently,” he said.

De Silva Wijeyeratne’s ongoing research for ‘Enchanting Sri Lanka,’ to be published by John Beaufoy Publishing, also touches on Sri Lanka’s layered history, including its colonial past. During his recent visit to Trincomalee, he visited the grave of Rear Admiral Charles Austen, the brother of renowned novelist Jane Austen. “I read in the Bradt Guide to Sri Lanka that her brother was buried in the Esplanade Cemetery. There was an article online by Nishan Fernando in the Sunday Times where he describes how, in 1984, he and his father, Admiral Clancy Fernando, located the grave. Fernando wrote of the burial ground on the Esplanade in the middle of Trincomalee town, opposite the beautiful horseshoe shaped Dutch Bay.”

After a false start at another cemetery, using Google maps, de Silva Wijeyeratne with others, including Hiran and Hashan Cooray, some of the senior team from Jetwing Hotels, visited St. Stephan Cemetery which is around 400 meters from the Maritime and Naval History Museum. ‘We found the grave as described in the Sunday Times article by Nishan Fernando. But talking to various hoteliers and people in tourism in Trincomalee, we were struck by how many people were unaware of its existence. Hopefully, knowing that the grave of Rear Admiral Charles Austen, brother of Jane Austen, is roughly in the middle of St. Stephan Cemetery, in Trincomalee, will help others, with an interest in Jane Austen, to locate it.”

During his time in Trincomalee, with the Jetwing Hotels team, de Silva Wijeyeratne also visited Mederigiriya, Seruwila and Velgam Vehera. They encountered elephants on their visits to Seruwila and Velgam Vehera. “That brief visit alone shows how rich and complex Sri Lanka’s story is,” he said. “It spans pre-colonial, colonial and post-colonial periods.” For de Silva Wijeyeratne, the challenge now lies in translating this richness into a coherent national narrative. “This country has everything—biodiversity, ancient civilisation, marine ecosystems, etc.,” he said. “Few places in the world can offer such an all-round package.”

He stressed that aligning conservation with tourism and knowledge-sharing could deliver long-term benefits. “It’s about connecting the dots,” he said. “If we do that successfully, Sri Lanka can position itself as a world-class destination, while protecting its natural and cultural heritage.” As the country looks to rebuild and diversify its economy, de Silva Wijeyeratne’s message is clear: Conservation, when strategically integrated, could become one of Sri Lanka’s strongest assets. (Pictures courtesy Gehan de Silva) Wijeyeratne

By Ifham Nizam

Life style

Bringing the flavours and spirit of Jaffna to life

Published

3 days ago

2026/04/26

Thilina Walpola

Grace draped in tradition

Long before the first dish was placed at the Jaffna food festival at Cinnamon Bentota Beach, a dedicated team of staff and culinary staff journeyed to Jaffna.

In the North they stepped out of professional hotels and into homes, road side eateries and bustling local markets. They observed, listened and, most importantly, tasted. The experience was as much about unlearning as it was learning.

They spent time with local people, women who have perfected their craft over decades, fishermen who spoke of the day’s fresh catch, spice vendors who explained the subtle difference in dried chillies and roasted blends.

They saw the liberal use of black peppers, tamarind and the depth of roasted curry powders.

In the end, what the team brought back from the North was not just technique or taste, it was perspective. What stayed most was the spirit of Jaffna, its people resourceful grounded and deeply connected to roots.

And so when the festival came to life in Bentota, it was not just a recreation, it was a reflection. They realised the heart of Jaffna is not only in its flavours but in its people.

Cinnamon Bentota Beach — signature selection celebrated the rich heritage, vibrant culture, and authentic cuisine of Northern Sri Lanka with its signature “Jaffna Night” recently. The evening was a heartfelt journey into Jaffna’s traditions, inviting guests to experience the warmth, flavours, and stories of this remarkable region.

: Time honoured rituals

: Jaffna’s bold flavours

: Warm welcome from heart of southern hospitality

: General Manager welcoming guests

Guests were welcomed with the traditional greetings, followed by religious rituals that set the evening in a meaningful cultural context. The highlight was the launch of the “Jaffna Culinary Journey” video series, capturing the resort team’s immersive exploration of Jaffna’s culinary landscape and community life.

From preparing local delicacies alongside villagers, to stepping into traditional homes, participating in early morning poojas, and wandering bustling fish markets; vegetable markets, the team discovered that Jaffna’s cuisine is inseparable from its identity, history, and community spirit.

Cinnamon Bentota Beach — Signature Selection shared reflections on the journey, emphasising how meaningful experiences can preserve and honour cultural heritage. The evening culminated in the official launch of the Jaffna Food Festival at the resort – a continuation of the journey that brings authentic Jaffna flavours and stories directly to guests in Bentota.

“Jaffna Night” was more than a culinary celebration; it was a testament to connection, culture, and the shared joy of learning through food and tradition.

By Zanita Careem

Life style

Sun Siyam Pasikudah paves the way in sustainability

Published

3 days ago

2026/04/26

Thilina Walpola

Upul - Group Sustainability Manager

Sun Siyam Pasikudah has added another milestone to its growing list of achievements by earning the prestigious Travel Gold Certification, a recognition that reflects the resort’s dedication to exceptional hospitality, high service standards and memorable guest experience. At this resort, sustainability isn’t just a concept it is a commitment. So driving eco conscious change, behind the scenes, is Chaminda Upul Kumara, shaping a hospitality experience where luxury meets responsibility .

Q: Sun Siyam Pasikudah has earned Travelife Gold Certification, covering 147 criteria, from energy and water to wildlife and community welfare. What did that journey genuinely push the property and the wider group to do differently?

A: Earning Travelife Gold was never just about getting the certificate. Working through 147 criteria covering energy, water, waste, wildlife, and community welfare made us look hard at ourselves and ask whether we were truly doing enough in each of those areas.

What it really pushed us to do was move beyond compliance. We tightened our conservation practices, improved how we manage waste, and put more deliberate effort into biodiversity and community programmes. But perhaps the most meaningful shift was weaving sustainability into the guest experience itself, making it visible and accessible without ever compromising on comfort or quality.

At the group level, Pasikudah became a working model. The practices we refined here have since been adapted and adopted across our other properties, creating a culture where sustainability is not a side project managed by one department but something that shapes how every team member thinks and works. It reinforced what Sun Siyam Care stands for: that responsible hospitality is not a goal we work towards. It is simply who we are.

Q: Most of the Sun Siyam story has been written in the Maldives. How does Pasikudah write its own chapter, given how different the setting, the coastline, and the community around it are?

A: When the civil conflict in Sri Lanka’s Eastern Province ended in 2009, our founder Ahmed Siyam Mohamed saw something in Pasikudah Bay that many others had not yet noticed. The calm, shallow waters and unspoiled beaches were extraordinary, but he also saw a region ready for renewal and an opportunity to be part of that through responsible tourism.

The property opened in 2014 as a 34-room luxury boutique resort, quietly introducing refined hospitality to Sri Lanka’s east coast. Then came COVID-19 and the country’s economic crisis, two of the hardest back-to-back challenges any hospitality business could face. Rather than simply wait it out, General Manager Mohamed Arshed Refai led a comprehensive transformation of the property.

The refurbishment was guided by international design firm Studio 67, but its real character came from a very deliberate decision: every single material used was locally sourced, and Sri Lankan artisans and craftspeople were involved throughout the process. It was not just a renovation. It was a recommitment to the region and the people in it.

That is what sets Pasikudah apart within the Sun Siyam family. The Maldives properties have their own extraordinary identity, but Pasikudah’s chapter is distinctly Sri Lankan. From post-conflict rebuilding to post-crisis renewal, it is a story of courage, community, and the belief that investing in a place means investing in its people.

Q:There is an organic farm on the property growing over 38 varieties of fruits, vegetables, and herbs. Tell us about that. It feels like it says something bigger about how the resort thinks about its place here.

A: The farm is a fairly direct expression of how we think about our responsibility to this place. At least 30 percent of our menu is plant-based, and being able to grow a meaningful portion of that on the property makes that commitment tangible rather than theoretical. Guests receive their welcome drinks made with fruit grown here. The chefs know exactly where their produce comes from and what it took to grow it.

We also have what we call climate-conscious dishes on the menu, options designed around sustainable food principles that prompt guests to think about what they are eating and where it originated. Beyond the farm itself, we source a significant share of our ingredients from local farmers and producers in the surrounding community. That reduces food miles and carbon emissions, but it also means the resort is actively supporting the local food economy rather than bypassing it.

Put simply, the farm is not a marketing feature. It reflects a commitment to operating in a way that is connected to this land and these communities, rather than sitting apart from them.