The Shack With No Name, Southern Sri Lanka

Rice & curry. It sounds kind of generic. Who would have thought that it represents a significant percentage of what people order in Sri Lanka? Rice & curry is a ubiquitous part of Sri Lankan cuisine, and available anywhere in the country. It's name may sound vague or even boring, but what you are served is generally excellent and will vary greatly from place to place. The curries in one restaurant might be mild and soupy, while another spot might serve up their curries all thick & fiery. Even the rice can change from white to brown or even red, depending on where you go. Ingredients are determined by season and whatever is good value at the time.

The best way to think about rice & curry is like you are being given a plate full of whatever home cooked delights are currently simmering away in the kitchen on that particular day. You can get your hands on in at pretty much any place that serves food. Just ask politely, and you will usually not be let down.

We figured that we couldn't visit Sri Lanka without reviewing at least one spot that offered this most common staple, so along the main road along the south coast we pulled in at a tiny wooden shack, wedged into the five meter gap between the road and the beach. There were was a lone stilt fisherman sitting on his pole, jutting out of the waves just off the beach. The whole scene was like something out of a travel brochure, or a set from a movie, like everything had been setup perfectly for us.

There was no indication to us that rice and curry was for sale, but it really is so common that you can just order it anywhere that has chairs and food. Inside the shack was simple, clean enough and surprisingly cool thanks to the overhead fan lazily turning and the fresh ocean breeze that came in through the many holes in the walls and roof. We were greeted by a smiling young local lady who took our order and offered us a table. But before disappearing out back to fetch our food, she turned to us and asked, 'Spicy?' while grinning in a way which indicated that if we didn't like it spicy then we might as well just leave right then. Two thumbs up, a big smile and our enthusiastic reply, 'SPICY!' assured her that she didn't have to treat us like the westerners who act like spicy food might cause instant death if they are foolish enough to try it (side note: I used to be one of those people, a LONG time ago). The enormous poster on the wall of a very serious looking soldier holding a gun did seem at odds with the otherwise friendly mood of the place, but really, as long as this lady was able to produce a few decent curries then I wouldn't say anything about her interior decorating choices.

The first thing to land on our table was fresh white short grain rice inside a dish the size of a punchbowl. Im not sure how two people would manage to consume that much rice in single sitting. I thought that maybe the lady was just being polite, or expecting us to eat more than her usual customers considering we are probably a bit larger than most of them. Whatever the reason, it was an impressive pile of carbohydrates.

Next came the curry. well, curries. Five separate portions of diverse deliciousness appeared in front of us, presented in mismatched bowls which looked like they had been purchased from a garage sale at a retirement village. Just looking at the multi-coloured meal was satisfying enough, before we even began to eat. The daal curry had big specks of dried red chillies dotted throughout, and wasn't greasy like a lot of indian daal tends to be. There was a nose-meltingly spicy okra curry in a dry gravy paste, which was probably the most dominant thing on the table, with the stringy, hairy and slightly crunchy feel of the okra being an innovative way to complement a dish where you really cant taste anything through the spice. The 'Brinjal Fry', which is fried eggplant curry with large red re-hydrated chillies was sweet, mildly spicy, seductively slimy and a perfect way to retreat from the more molten lava styled dishes in front of us. A yellow curry was also present, containing a very chalky root vegetable that I couldn't identify; and yep, it was spicy as hell, and gave a solid backbone to the meal which was otherwise maybe a little sloppy. The last dish to appear was a large portion of roasted coconut and red chilli sambal, which was salty, sweet and fresh as the ocean breeze. The point of these diverse dishes being delivered at once is to allow you to mix all the elements together to enjoy a meal where every mouthful can taste a bit different.

In this case, mixing this and that resulted in what was definitely the spiciest meal I have had to date in Sri Lanka. But even though my face would have looked like a tomato by the end of the meal, I was still able to appreciate all the various strong flavours that each dish had to offer. Amazing to think that the spice level was actually in balance with the taste of the rest of the meal. Impressive.  

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We finished our meal, although our seemingly bottomless rice bowl still looked full. As we paid our bill, which totalled about three bucks, we wondered how long a place like this would be around. The whole place was badly made from wood, and sat right next to the beach, completely exposed to the elements. I just hope that it is still open for business the next time I am in that part of the world.

The bill (for 2):
2 x Vegetarian Rice and Curry - 300 Rupees
1 x Small Sprite and Large Cream Soda - 75 Rupees
TOTAL: 375 Rupees (Approx. US$3)

Restaurant address: somewhere along the south coast of Sri Lanka... might be best to take a look at the map for this one. I dont think the place even has a letterbox, let alone an address. No need to book ahead for a table either.

for exact locations of all reviewed restaurants, take a look at our map.