1. Pani aappa (treacle hoppers)
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| © Ji-Elle / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) |
[Prefix - I simply couldn't find an accurate image to use without copyright infringement. This picture shows a savoury egg hopper and next to it a treacle hopper folded in half, which is a traditional way of serving the sweet version.]
Before I try to deconstruct and translate this dish, can I just say I abso-freaking-lutely love anything and everything to do with 'coconut treacle', a syrup made by refining the sap extracted from the coconut tree. While it has a sweetness level somewhere between maple syrup and bees' honey, it has the depth of dark, black treacle. To make this dish you mix coconut treacle into a pancake type batter made of overnight soaked and blended rice, and coconut milk. Then as one would do with a pancake, you ladle potions of the batter into a small, greased, wok-shaped pan. End result is a soup bowl shaped, crispy, sweet 'hopper' with a squidgy center from where all the batter pooled up. Often you bend the whole thing in half before serving it.
When I was really young, as in under 5 years old, I stayed at my grandparents' place during daytime, until my parents returned from work in the evening. My grandmas's brother used to visit every other week or so, and bring for me a single treacle hopper. I remember sitting at this long wooden table with the single hopper in front of me on a dark green plastic plate and eating it so slowly, as a tortoise eats lettuce. I savoured every bit and every single crumb of that hopper. For as long as I remember I absolutely adore all desserts with coconut treacle, and luckily for me quite a few back in Sri Lanka includes this magical ingredient (i.e. treacle and curd, jaggery, watalappan, kalu dodol, konda kavum, halapa, panipol, lavariya, imbul kiribath, pol toffee, bibikkan, etc.). Even today if I taste syrup on a pancake, bite into something with a hint of perfectly crisped deep caramel or even good quality brown sugar, it takes me right back, just like that, to that kitchen with that table surrounded by the greatest people. Sadly my grandma, her brother, grandpa and everyone in the family in that generation have passed. The family home has been renovated beyond recognition and I haven't had a good treacle hopper in decades. But that memory though. It's just like yesterday.
2. Waffles and chocolate sauce
I'm obsessed with waffles and chocolate sauce, so much so that it's part of my last meal if I were on death-row. The first time I ever had a waffle was at my childhood friend, Anam's place, for 'lunch'. I stressed 'lunch' because growing up and even today back in Sri Lanka, it's quintessential to eat rice with curries for lunch everyday of the year. So eating this concussion of crispy, soft, sweetness with rich, dark, chocolate for lunch blew my mind in so many ways. I remember sitting around the table with my school friends, all girls roughly 14 years old, breaking a large waffle into quarters and devouring it, cause ain't no one got patience to wait for a full waffle of their own. It was discovery, youth and flavour all combined into that one bite. Ever since then waffles and chocolate sauce have continued to blow my mind. I don't eat it enough nor keep in touch with the clan from back then. However, I did get a waffle iron for my 31st birthday and wrote to Anam while on lockdown. Maybe, almost 2 decades later it's time to rediscover the joy and friendship this brought me. 3. Masala dosa
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| © Guilhem Vellut from Paris, France / CC BY (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0) |
By now my mouth is salivating and I'm questioning my decision to move to the Nordics far far away from these heavenly pockets of flavour. Moving on, this is yet again best explained as a savoury, crispy pancake (starting to see a pattern here), which is the 'dosa', filled with a flavoured potato, lentil and chickpea mixture, thus the 'masala'. This vegan dish is one of the most flavourful, filling and clean tastes I've ever experienced. The outer cover made of a fermented rice, gram and chickpea flour batter is paper thin and crumbles in your mouth. It's incredibly buttery, nutty and the perfect tones of salty specially thanks to the ghee used to fry the dosa. The filling in the middle is warm, spicy and so rich in flavour, and the tiniest bit mushy and moist. While it's originated from Southern India (to the best of my knowledge), the best dosa I've had is from a small restaurant called Greenland by the sea in Colombo 04. It has looked exactly the same for the past 20 years since I first visited, and the kind waiter who serves us is still the same too, with the exception of few added grey hairs. Both him and me.
I'd only ever visited this restaurant with my mom and dad. It's our thing. Even when I was living back in Sri Lanka, we'd only visit here not more than couple of times a year and now even less so. But we'd order the same thing. Funnily enough, it's served exactly as shown in this picture on a metal platter with a variety of accompaniments. No frills. Just flavour and excellent value for money. Even just looking at it I can feel the sea breeze in my hair, hear the voice of my dad chatting with the lovably introverted waiter and my mom and I splitting an ulundu vadai. It's the kind of meal I could eat all day everyday and not ever get sick of it. Sigh. Until we meet again.
4. Chips, cheese and gravy
Also known as 'poutine', which I assume is what you'd call it if you were posh or from Quebec where it originates from, I first had a taste of this dish in September 2009 in Northern England. It's essentially thick cut potato chips topped with cheese curd and gravy. But in the north it's just called chips, cheese and gravy making it pretty self-explanatory. Plus, we used frozen chips from the supermarket, grated cheddar and instant gravy made from granules out of a tin. It's definitely not much of a looker. I was first introduced to this sorcery by Beth, my beloved former-housemate and current best of friends, who's from Canada, but not Quebec though. From Kitchener, Waterloo. This was also the go to hangover food, student food, comfort food and just people's food up north. I remember some Southerners being completely flabbergasted at the idea of putting cheese on your chips. Anyway, I went on to work part-time in the student union night club for 3 years while I studied. Two to three nights a week from 8PM - 4AM. I would pick up a potion of chips, cheese and gravy during the break or on my way home from work. It would be served exactly as in this picture, in a disposable box with a plastic fork and if you're lucky a serviette. I'm not ashamed to admit that even on the days that I didn't work, it didn't stop me from making this at home. It wasn't as good as the chip shop version though. At the moment this particular gravy is something I can't get my hands on where I live. So whenever someone's visiting me from the UK, a can or two of gravy granules is what I ask for. I think it's still under a quid for a can. I've got 1/4 of a can of gravy granules tucked away in the fridge. On those dark and cold winter evenings I make myself a potion of greasy chips, cheese and gravy. It literally makes me feel as though I'm being cocooned by the warmest memory of my first home away from home. In all honesty, it's time this dish gets the respect it deserves. Let the North rise!
[P.s. To those of you who're confused about what a 'chip' is let me break it down for you. A 'chip' is a thick cut potato cuboid. A 'fry' is a skinny potato cuboid that often gets served in fast food chains. A 'crisp' or 'crisps' are thinly sliced potato circles that are deep fried and commercially sold in bags. They are notoriously over-served at parties with dips. And that's the only correct distinction there is. Forget everything else you've heard about this subject before.]
5. Chailatte
It was inevitable that a drink made it to this list, so here we are. While most of my favourite drinks are associated with the gaps in my memories they create, the Chailatte is a whole other story. First and foremost, I acknowledge that there's something fundamentally wrong with its name. We could have all done a better job. To my understanding 'chai' translates to tea boiled in milk with sugar and some spices. So if you are saying chai tea, don't. That's the same as saying 'tea tea' and we don't need that. Then for the 'latte' part I don't even know what it means. Possibly it represents the added steamed milk element of this drink? Who knows. Regardless of its questionable name, I find this drink to be truly sensational. The first time I had it was at a Costa Coffee in Leicester Square in a slightly nippy spring evening. It was served in a thick glass and I remember holding it with both hands, mostly to warm them up. The first thing that hits you is the smell of cinnamon. It's somehow an incredibly comforting and sensual aroma, come to think of it. It's sweet, creamy, warm and spiced up in the Christmassy kind of way. I wasn't alone at that cafe. My fellow Chailatte drinker and I made a pact to travel the world and try Chailattes from every cafe we could find. Preferably quirky, independent ones. Ironically, we didn't even make it to a 2nd cafe in the same country. On the other hand, this drink also reminds me of my mom. She really doesn't like cinnamon. To be fair cinnamon is not commonly used in sweets in Sri Lanka. We use it in curries but not so much is sweets. Specially not sprinkled in its raw form, on top in random desserts or drinks. My mom and I share a very similar taste pallet, so this has always been a point of intrigue for me. So, whenever I taste this drink loaded with sugar and artificial flavouring, it reminds me both of a love lost and a love unconditional. It might just be another overhyped beverage with a confused identity, but for me, it's a great story in a mug.
So that's it. My top 5. Believe me when I say this, I can make so many sequels to this topic broken down by time, place, food category, etc., but I won't. What I really want to know is what are your food memories? Why are they important to you?
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