Spices are, of course, what Sri Lanka is well known for. The sweet and aromatic Ceylon cinnamon was traded by early Arab merchants, and from the early 1500s cinnamon became the prime draw for European powers, with the Portuguese and later the Dutch all clamouring for a share of the spice trade. Other spices, including pepper, cardamom, cloves, nutmeg, and mace, were also important and remain major exports today. Sri Lanka is, in fact, the ninth largest exporter of spices in the world, and the industry now accounts for about 56 percent of the country’s total agricultural exports.
At the very top of my Sri Lanka list was a visit to a Spice Garden. I had researched so much into the subject I was making myself dizzy. There are an astonishing number of them around, from large commercial ones to small family-run farms, though warnings exist that some can feel like tourist traps.
Our trip unfolded slightly differently than planned, with our driver gently steering us toward places on our route that he thought we would enjoy, rather than the ones I had obsessively bookmarked. We ended up at a more commercial spice garden on the main road, not quite what I had pictured, but interesting in its own way. I am reluctant to call it a tourist trap, as we could have said no.
Although the roadside billboard described it as the oldest Spice Garden in Sri Lanka, I could find no evidence to back that up. There was still plenty to learn, and the gentleman showing us around was very knowledgeable, even if he looked a bit crestfallen when he realised we were not signing up for the full Ayurveda massage experience. The familiar “no pressure to buy” routine followed, and Sri Lankans are so genuinely warm that, despite my best intentions, I still walked away with a bag heaving with overpriced spices, peppers, and oils!
Next on my list were some cooking classes. In Ella, we chose a vegetarian class at Ella Spice Garden. It is a busy place tucked down a narrow road off the main street in Ella. I am so glad we went. We loved the class, the airy, bright space it was laid out in, and most of all Theeka, who has a wild passion for teaching people about Sri Lankan food and growing things. He has his own small spice garden, lovingly tended at the bottom of the property, where you do a short walk around before the class. We smelt cloves straight off their buds, saw cardamom on the plant, beautiful pandan leaves, curry leaf trees, and so much more.
The class ran like a well-oiled machine, with everyone gently nudged into chopping, rolling, or stirring something. We learnt how to make coconut roti, a comforting dhal, a quick okra stir fry, and a few other homely dishes that felt wonderfully doable. Along the way we were taken through the fragrant world of Sri Lankan spices, the different curry powders that give each dish its personality, and the generous use of fresh coconut and coconut oil in just about everything. The 100 clove garlic curry was definitely a highlight. We bought some of his aromatic curry powders at the small on site shop, and I may have purchased an 80 cm stick of the most fragrant cinnamon I have ever smelt, the issue of transporting this and our growing excess baggage being a future problem.
Our other cooking demonstration on this trip was a little different. In Sigiriya, my overwhelm and inability to say no steered us toward a different experience than one I would have chosen myself. The journey getting there was apparently a must do in Sigiriya and clearly a solid part of the tourist itinerary. After a short, bumpy trip in a traditional bullock cart, we crossed a small dam in a Sri Lankan fishing boat (oruwa) where the boatmen showed us how to fashion hats from lily pad leaves and then promptly decorated my daughter with bits of lily flower jewellery, a skill so inventive that I suspect we may never have occasion to use it again.
On our arrival, the preparations for lunch were already underway. I think the term “farm to table” aptly applies here. The vegetables were grown on site, right down to the rice, which was shucked in front of us. We prepared the coconut milk from scratch and then strong armed our way through rolling the sambol on a traditional miris gala, a flat stone slab with a pestle. Cooking was done over outdoor kitchen fires, with clay pots as the vessels, giving everything a smoky, earthy aroma.
Lunch was a feast of nine dishes, each one showcasing fresh ingredients and bold spices. The unique mango curry, gourd and pumpkin curries, cucumber salad, a mix of sambols, and fried local fish made for an excellent lunch.
A final wander through the vegetable garden followed, along with a demonstration of how to make palm-leaf fronds for roofing. I did wonder briefly whether this setup was slightly exploitative on the part of the tour operator, hoping that the talented lady we met truly benefited from our visit. In future, I would definitely seek out more ethical tours that directly support the villagers.
So, whilst I never did get to visit my dream spice garden or learn how to roll cinnamon, we saw some fascinating techniques and learnt firsthand the use of an amazing variety of local ingredients and spices that make up the amazing Sri Lankan dishes. I will keep these memories, smells, and tastes in my favourite travel folder for years to come!
