Ethnobotany is the study of how people of a particular culture and region make use of native plants. The culinary art of Ethnobotany is how people use those native plants in their food.
Tea and betel make up the very fabric of Sri Lankan society. The brand Ceylon Tea is recognised the world over. A friend who lived in Soviet Russia once told me that a box of Ceylon Tea was one of the most prized consumer items in the communist state and was only taken out on special occasions. Betel also makes up a significant role in our culture; we use betel to venerate our elders; it is used extensively in indigenous medicine and is also part of betel nut chewing. Betel and rice are bywords for fertility in the old Sinhalese saying batha bulathin saru (Fertile with rice and betel).
But can betel and tea be used in cooking? Betel and tea leaves are edibles in variety of cultures in Asia. In Japan today, you will find Matcha, made from the powdered leaves of the Camellia sinensis plant used in all kinds of food. Matcha was originally served at tea ceremonies, but you can now find the powdered green tea from salsa to chocolate bars in Japan.
Gihan Bulathsinghalage is a culinary artist who is trying to introduce edible tea and betel to Sri Lanka. Gihan had been cooking from a young age and specialises in pan-ethnic cuisine. He lived in Japan and opened a restaurant in 2018 called ‘Spice of Kyoto’ by collaborating with a master chef because the city’s food scene didn’t have much spice. He has also travelled around in Asia picking up recipes along the way.
Gihan Bulathsinghalage
Pix by Jonathan Frank and Gihan Bulathsinghalage
I met Gihan at his home in Modara, Colombo. Gihan said that the Vietnamese have been using tender betel leaves in their cooking and that the leaves have many medicinal properties. “They got anti-oxidants and they are anti-inflammatory,” he says while taking the leaves out of a bowl he has been soaking in water. Gihan adds that he plucked the leaves from the garden of his ayurvedic doctor.
“Meat wrapped in betel is called Bolalot in Vietnam. It’s very popular there”. Gihan gets to work with a kerosene stove and clay pot. Sausages were used in this demonstration. Gihan tossed in sausages wrapped in betel leaves into the sizzling vessel. I couldn’t help but think about the sour taste the betel might have and wondered how cooking the leaves could in fact ‘kill’ the sour taste and complement the meat.
After they were fried, Gihan served the betel wrapped sausage with tea leaves fermented in rice vinegar. “The fermented tea is a palette cleanser and a garnish,” he said and I dug in. The meat tasted incredible with the betel leaf giving it a subtle flavour profile that bordered on spicy and sour. The added texture also elevated the food.
The fermented tea is a special variety Gihan sourced from Hatton after a search that took almost six months. “This is a recipe from Myanmar. They call it Laphet which is served on special occasions. The Burmese consider it the highest form of hospitality serving Laphet,” he said.
Fermented tea
Laphet is tasted nothing like tea at first but the strong hints of tea gets your tastebuds later. The fermented tea was very much on the briny side but a food amateur myself can see a potential as side dish accompanied by heavy meat dish or as bar food.
Gihan has also made sauces, paste and curries out of tea. He recently demonstrated Laphet preparation at the University of Colombo where the recipe was well received by liberal arts academics.
In the realm of culinary ethnobotany, Gihan Bulathsinghalage emerges as a trailblazer, navigating the rich tapestry of Sri Lankan traditions with the infusion of betel and tea into his culinary creations. Through his innovative approach, he not only tantalises taste buds, but also showcases the transformative potential of native plants in gastronomy.
The convergence of traditional ingredients such as betel and tea, with modern culinary techniques reflects a dynamic interplay between heritage and innovation. Gihan’s culinary journey serves as a reminder that the roots of ethnobotany run deep, and the marriage of cultural knowledge with gastronomic creativity can yield extraordinary and unexpected delights.
As we savour Gihan’s dishes, we partake in a journey through Sri Lanka’s botanical and cultural landscapes. Each bite becomes a celebration of the edible wonders hidden in native plants, inviting us to appreciate the nuanced flavors and historical significance embedded in the culinary art of ethnobotany. Gihan Bulathsinghalage, with his pioneering spirit, invites us to explore the untapped potential of our native flora, transforming them from mere ingredients into the vibrant palette of Sri Lankan gastronomy.
