THUNEE – A South African game of strategy, teamwork and competitive spirit
Thunee is a card game played by South African Indians, named after the Tamil word for ‘water’. It is believed to have been developed by Tamil South Africans. It even has it’s own Wikipedia page and can now be played online. Legend goes that the game was invented by indentured labourers as they crossed the waters from Asia to Port Natal. Here in South Africa, the game is played with great veracity and there are even tournaments held here. Every social gathering includes a ‘thunee-pack’ which consists of the ace, king, queen, jack, ten, nine and the sixes for keeping the score.
The strategising and deep concentration of a thunee game during a social gathering
The game cuts across social classes and is played mainly by South Africans of Indian origin. People that I’ve spoken with have fond memories of playing this game at school or university. Now, as adulthood has set in, they play it at ‘braais’ (barbeques) or family functions.
I often get asked, “Do you play thunee?” My answer is that I know the game but I’m not good at playing it at all. It is usually enjoyed with four players, in partnership of two, although a game with six players can also take place. There is a dealer, a cutter, a trump setter and the partner of the dealer draws the first card, twelve points to score and losers deal.
Loud screams of ‘jodie’, ‘khanaak’ and voracious debates around card counting take place. If someone is caught cheating they can be four-balled. I asked around to find out why this game is such fun and here are some of the responses:
Kylan Soobramany, a 21 year student says, “The game is about strategy and teamwork. I also enjoy the family bonding and for me it is so interesting to see how your family and friends think and operate during the game. It can be such fun.”
31-year old corporate trainer, Seshen Reddy says, “I love the game because it brings out the competitive spirit and is very much about winning by outsmarting your opponent. It is all about the luck of the draw because you never know what cards you are going to get.”
Deon Papiah, Production Manager in Johannesburg, takes part in an annual thunee tournament that has about 64 teams of two players each. He had this to say, “It is my second tournament and it’s quite exciting to win. The social element is great as we make friends and network while having a few beers. Some people team up with their partners which is great. The tournament I attend has an amazing prize money of R25 000 and this is also a motivating factor to win.”
The game is not only for boys. Many girls play Thunee very well too. It is clear that this card game is a tradition that was passed on from our ancestors who came to South Africa as indentured labourers. As a result, this game has become quite entrenched into the South African Indian culture.
Discontent over the cards drawn
It would be very interesting to know if this game, or variations thereof, are played in other parts of the world by the Indian/Tamil diasporas. There are sentiments that the game is so much a part of our culture, like a spicy fish curry, that in South Africa we have stopped questioning it’s roots. Only time will tell if this card tradition will continue to be upheld by future generation, or will it die out as some other cultural practices. I certainly hope that tournaments such as the one Papiah attends will keep this tradition going as long as possible.
The annual Tamil Canadian Walk brings together hundreds of participants, from all walks of life.
Over the last 9 years, the fundraiser has made many initiatives possible, in Canada and Sri Lanka, including those of the Canadian Heart and Stroke Foundation, the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health, and the Sampur Housing Project.
The 2017 event will be taking place Sunday, September 10th at Thomson Park, in Toronto, and will support efforts to resettle the ancient Tamil village of Thennamarawady.
Specifically, proceeds raised will support the development of a 10 acre integrated and self-sustaining farm, including crops, livestock, and agriculture that will be managed by the Trincomalee Welfare Association and Thennamarawady Rural Development Society.
The establishment of the farm will create income opportunities for families and profits will be reinvested into the village. The project will also be independently audited by the North East Economic Development Centre.
Thennamarawady, located on the northern tip of the Eastern Province in the Trincomalee District, was destroyed in 1984, as a result of the armed conflict in Sri Lanka.
This caused the total displacement of the local population, who fled to Mullathivu. Decades later, in 2010, families were finally allowed to start returning to their ancestral lands. For the few who were able to make their way back to Thennamarawady, tremendous hardships in resettling and rebuilding their village awaited, due to decades of neglect.
The challenges faced by the 82 families who were able to return include having to live in temporary shelters, unemployment, an aging population, and a lack of medical, educational and other basic services.
The fundraising project is estimated to be fully implemented by May 2018 and was kicked off recently at Tamil Fest, the largest Tamil street festival outside of the Indian subcontinent.
Arch and Sooj, two Tamil women born and raised in the west, kick-off their first ever podcast with a discussion on the complex topic of traveling to Sri Lanka, a country most diaspora Tamils once fled to avoid persecution and to find better lives for their children.
***Got a topic you’d like us to cover on the show? Want to be a guest on our show? Send us an email at info@tamilculture.com.***
I remember meeting Maria in an AOL chatroom. I was maybe 14 or 15 years old. I never knew what she looked like. She lived somewhere in the States, the exact city I can’t recall now. And she had a mild form of cerebral palsy that made her mostly wheelchair-bound.
Every day after school, we exchanged messages and got to know each other. I remember Maria sharing with me a short story she had penned called “The Five Second Boy”, about a teenager with a terminal illness. Whether the story was part biographical I don’t recall. But the story was so touching, so moving, so beautifully written that it nearly reduced me to tears. Though my old computer is long gone and the story long deleted, I still think about it to this day.
I eventually lost touch with Maria. I don’t know if her free trial had expired, or if she had simply got a new screenname. But there are times when I wonder about Maria today. Where is she now? Is she alive and healthy? Where does she work? Is she married? Does she have kids?
And so, too, I wonder about the others I’d chatted with on AOL and the fleeting connections I’d made. The guy I used to talk hockey with. The Sinhalese girl from Scarborough. The cute blonde from Markham. The girl I’d cybered with from Bakersfield, California.
For a timid teenager with growing pains, the internet was a new, mystical, wondrous world. Like most Tamil boys back then, I wasn’t allowed to talk to girls. The thought of talking to one on the home phone (pre-cell phones) or even inviting one over so mortified me that it never crossed my mind.
And so carrying on multiple friendly and flirty conversations – completely unbeknownst to my parents – lended a certain thrill because it was forbidden and illicit. My own form of teenage rebellion.
It was also a welcome reprieve from high school – a ruthless world where girls only talked to you if they liked your face or needed homework help, and ignored you or mocked you mercilessly otherwise. On this newfangled portal, you could be anything! All you had was text on a screen, and what you wrote mattered more than how you looked.
I like to think that I’m a more confident and self-assured adult today. But not all of us have the good fortune to blossom at an early age. And for many late bloomers, the pangs and scars of adolescence never leave.
For those of us in our late 20s and 30s, the evolution of the internet mirrored our own personal growth. From the dark ages of dial-up and chatrooms and personal homepages (Angelfire, Geocities) to ICQ and MSN Messenger, to forums like AsianAvenue and DesiPlanet, to blogs like Xanga and WordPress, to YouTube and finally culminating in the domination of social media – MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat.
Some may call this corporatization and homogenization of the internet a devolution. Before the blatant clickbait of HuffPo and Vice, there were blogs of substance – many now discontinued, not updated in years.
With the internet now devolving to a form of “look at me” narcissism and social status one-upmanship (who has the most Likes? who has the most Followers?) at times I find myself longing nostalgically for those days.
It was a seemingly innocent time when creativity and substance mattered much more than image and flash. A nascent virtual world that, via the guise of anonymity, brought the world together – before Dateline NBC and monetization and smartphones and swipe apps and doxing and dick pics ended the party.
A part of me regrets that those days will never come back. Sadly, the 14 year old of today may never get to connect with a “Maria” from across the world. The confluence of factors that allowed for such a thing to happen is entirely an accident of history.
Yet we happened to be there – at the right place at the right time. And for those memories I am eternally grateful today.
Looking to create your love story? Join the other couples who have dated and married through myTamilDate.com!
Shankari Chandran, a former human rights lawyer turned writer, discusses her second novel, The Barrier, with ABC conversations.
A Tamil-Australian, who grew up in Canberra surrounded by parents who were both doctors, Shankari moved away from the family tradition and became a lawyer. While working at the social justice desk of a large corporate law firm in London, she persuaded the firm to pursue a landmark international case focused on the fate of prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.
The sun shone through the windows of my elementary school. It was the fourth grade, and lunch time had just rolled around. Hungry, I pulled out a thermos full of last night’s dinner out of my lunch bag. The lunch was rice with an assortment of curries, which wasn’t an uncommon meal for a brown girl like myself to have. However, when I opened the thermos lid, it hit me. An eye watering stench from the spices wafted in the air. I was horrified, and quickly took a few bites before shutting the lid on the thermos, as I feared the class would turn to me in disgust. I felt as though the smell still hovered over me, like a storm cloud. The names they would call me if I had left it open a little longer! I would be known as the girl with the stinky lunch.
Stinky lunches were only the tip of the iceberg when it came to being Tamil.
This is who I am, a second generation Tamil-Canadian. Born and raised by parents who fled Sri Lanka in a time of crisis, in hopes to begin their life anew. War torn and littered with the bodies of their neighbours, friends and family, my parents leaving their homeland was the only plausible solution for their survival. They brought only the clothes on their backs and the culture that they were taught. For them, adapting to Canada’s culture took them several years, as a part of them still held onto the Sri Lankan culture they grew up with since birth.
Tamil Hindu children listen to prayers after performing a Bharatnatyam dance during the Nambiyaandaar Nambi Ustavam Thiruvizha pooja at a Hindu Temple in Ontario, Canada, on 19 July 2017. This pooja is part of the 15 day long festival that honours Lord Ganesh which culminates with the extravagant chariot procession. During this Puja an idol of Lord Ganesh is paraded around the temple as prayers are performed. (Photo by Creative Touch Imaging Ltd./NurPhoto via Getty Images)
I was raised as a Tamil girl.
Yet being raised in Markham, I was also raised as a Canadian girl, something which I identified with more than my Tamil upbringing.
I found out quickly through school that I wasn’t like the other kids.
Going to school in Markham, I realized the differences between myself and my classmates. They didn’t go to the temple and wear paavada satais like I did. They didn’t eat meals with their hands at home like I did. They didn’t have a brown complexion like I did. I didn’t fit in because I looked different, because my life at home was different, because I was Tamil. I felt awkward and odd.
I never felt like a true Canadian when I noticed these differences. In my mind, I implemented the idea that to be a true Canadian, I had to leave behind my Tamil heritage. I would push away anything originating or involving Tamil culture, and in my mind, that’s exactly what I did.
I would let my nose wrinkle in disgust when I ate Tamil food and I would whine to my mom when I had to dress up to go to the temple.
However, no matter how hard I tried to distance myself from my Tamil heritage, it would sneak up on me like a tiger and pounced onto me, knocking me down. My “Tamilness” stuck with me.
I was at a low. All I wanted to be was Canadian, not a Tamil girl. Yet, I couldn’t distance myself from my Tamil culture. All I really wanted was to fit in, to truly be a Canadian.
Then, the question rang in my head: Why couldn’t I have been born white?
To me, being white meant that you were Canadian, that you were better than everybody else, including and especially being Tamil. Being white meant you fit in and you held a higher importance in society.
My bias and admiration towards the white race entangled me with Linda Corey.
Linda Corey was the “it” girl, at least in the fifth grade. She had the quality of royalty and superiority. While we were only 10, any one of us would have walked through fire for her. And that’s exactly what she wanted.
Her Russian descent gave her breathtaking ivory skin adorned with a splatter of freckles on her nose. In my eyes, she was the epitome of beauty. Compared to her, I felt like a mud stain in the classroom, with my toffee-coloured complexion and my lifeless dark brown eyes
I didn’t know it, but beauty was only skin deep. Behind her green eyes was a mind which held the sole motive to use me to her advantage. Admiring her as I did, I wouldn’t notice — or care — about her mastermind plan.
So began the series of events in which Linda raised her self-confidence by pointing out certain “flaws” I had, all while attacking my self-esteem.
Linda would shoo me away when telling secrets to her friends, even though she gave me the illusion that I was a ‘sort of’ friend to her. Of course, at the time I couldn’t blame her, because I thought she was right. I was not worth telling secrets to, because I was brown. Whenever I had something new, or different than her (like a new manicure), Linda needed to have the same thing.
I guess in her mind, it was so I wouldn’t rise to a different level than her. She always needed to be above me. I just mistook it for her false admiration for me. After all, she was white. She would do no harm and she was always right.
She continued to attack me.
At one point, our conversation during lunch went like this:
“What’s that you’re eating?” she said, clearly disgusted of my lunch.
“It’s just cultural food,” I mumbled to her, not knowing how to pronounce it in English. Amma (my mom) gave me rice and curry for lunch for the first time this week.
“Well it looks weird,” she retorted, promptly eating her “white” food out of her Thermos. I looked at her with pristine focus as the surety on her face was as plain as day. She was right, what I was eating was weird. She couldn’t have been lying because how else could she hold herself up with such confidence? I felt embarrassed to hold such food, and I slowly clicked the lid onto the container and slipped it into my lunch box. Why did I even bother to bring food like this to school anymore?
But I was too embarrassed to ask Amma (my mom) to stop giving the occasional rice and curry to me, as I was sure her feelings would get hurt.
All I wanted was redemption from Linda, a sign from her that showed me that I mattered, that I was worth something.
The sign never came.
“Why couldn’t I have been born white? I asked myself. Then I would have been just like Linda, perfect and right in every possible way”.
Linda moved to a new school in the sixth grade. Yet the damage she did lasted me the rest of elementary school. It wasn’t until I reached high school that I started appreciating my heritage.
During the ninth grade in the month of November, Amma asked me to volunteer for Maaveerar Naal, a program established to pay tribute to the many Tamil soldiers who lost their lives in the Sri Lankan civil war. I have been going to every year ever since I was five, yet this is the first time I had volunteered. Nevertheless, I knew the story, and why there was an annual gathering at Markham Fair Grounds in November.
This war was fought between the Sri Lankan military and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE). During this time, over 300,000 Sri Lankans migrated from Sri Lanka to Canada, including my parents. However, many family members of these Tamilian immigrants and refugees decided to stay; They wanted to protect their homeland and pave the way for their families to flee in safety.
I knew that many other Tamil families came to Maaveerar Naal to mourn and pay homage to the Tamils who fought in the war. To be a part of the effort that was ingrained in my cultural history, I told my mom that I would volunteer. I thought it would be something I would do for the rest of the night, collect my volunteer hours and go home.
However, going into the tent filled with thousands of Tamil people made me see more to Maaveerar Naal. There was more to it than respecting the soldiers who fought our fight. It was more about remembering the fathers, mothers, sons and daughters lost amidst the battle. These were people who have selflessly engaged themselves in the Sri Lankan civil war for a better tomorrow. They were human beings, just like myself. Seeing the pictures of those who have fallen – lined up against the wall – made me realize that their efforts shouldn’t be brushed under the rug.
Even though I have been going for the past ten years, my eyes opened up for the first time in the tent and I truly saw what was right in front of me. I saw what they fought for. They fought for the safety of their families, the safety for the natives who remained in Sri Lanka and for the safety of countless Tamil immigrants and refugees who stood in Markham Fair Grounds today. I realized right then and there that I should have pride in saying that I am a young Tamil woman.
After volunteering at Markham Fair grounds, I decided to give myself a break of the torturous question “why couldn’t I have been born white?” and started to be more open in reconnecting with my Tamil roots.
I didn’t know where an appropriate place to start, so when Amma asked me to go to York Cinemas to watch a Tamil movie – rather than whining and complaining like I normally did when she took me to movies, I kept an open mind and went along. The movies we saw there, along with Amma’s stories about Tamil culture and religion, inspired me to try and delve deeper into our culture and religion. I started by researching about the scientific reasoning of our customs and traditions, most of which I used to scoff at.
Researching and understanding made me feel closer to my Tamil heritage than I ever had before. I realized then that many second generation Tamil-Canadians like myself felt as though they needed to choose between acting upon Canadian culture, or Tamil culture, and wishing they didn’t have their Tamil heritage in the first place. We don’t want to be “too Tamil“, which is evident because many of us feel embarrassed when we take something as simple as lunch out during school. We also don’t want to be considered “whitewashed” when we don’t know how to pronounce something in Tamil(which has happened to me a fair amount of times!) Like myself, many second generation Tamil-Canadians fought and continue to fight this identity battle within themselves.
There’s a Tamil proverb that reminds me of how Tamil-Canadians should be towards each other. It goes like this: Adampan Kodiyum Thirandal Midukku. Translated, it means that union is strength. Rather than wasting our energy trying to prove how “Tamil” or how “Canadian” we are to each other, we should be more open and forthcoming to each other about the conflicts we face. Such as how we fear losing our Tamil culture our parents have taught us. How we fear that we don’t even fit in and we are constantly being judged.
How some days, to avoid all of this confusion, we wish that we could have been born white. Us opening up to each other can finally make us realize that at the end of the day, we all face the same difficulties and it’s okay to struggle. Every time one of us step forward to talk, the bond between each of us strengthens; and with that, the union between young Tamil-Canadians is fortified. We all become stronger – individually and as a group – when we come together.
I stopped asking myself, why couldn’t I have been born white? because I learnt that being Canadian meant so much more than that. Being Canadian didn’t mean you had to be a white person who enjoyed poutine and went to the cottage every other weekend. Being Canadian meant that you had to be kind and accepting towards others. Being Canadian meant being yourself, and for me, being a young Tamil woman was what being a Canadian was truly all about.
This article was originally published on the Huffington Post
Baking has always been a passion of mine from a young age, but it wasn’t the natural career path along my journey. You could say I chose to ignore it because it wasn’t a fancy job or the normal corporate position one was expected to acquire upon graduation. I started N’ticing Cakes in 2013 and specialize in making custom Wedding Cakes, cakes for all occasions and desserts. It hasn’t been an easy journey, but I wouldn’t change it for the world!
While most people use their vents as a way to warm their homes, this 6 year old found a way to turn it into an oven. Let me back it up a bit and put that into context. Being an only child in a Tamil family is a rare occurrence but this is my reality. As a child, I found myself having to find ways to entertain myself when I wasn’t around friends or family.
I guess my creativity started young as I recall digging through our family closets and finding an old film roll container (the black and grey ones). I would take this film roll container, fill it up with flour and mix in some water and any other ingredients I could find. I even went the extra mile and took some food colouring to turn the “cake dough” into a pretty colour. I would then put this container over the vent and just watch. Obviously, because that’s the best way to bake something when you aren’t allowed to use a real oven. I knew this wasn’t real baking and I didn’t think that I was baking an actual cake but it was the closest I could get to the process being so young. I also really enjoyed it. I also found a way to do this when my parents weren’t around and I still don’t think my parents know I did this until this day.
Fast forward a couple years to what I can confidently say was the BEST Christmas ever! My uncle, whom I will always be grateful to for doing this, got me my very first Easy Bake Oven. It was a DREAM come true! I remember that I opened it up that night and made my dad find me the brightest light bulb so that I could bake everyone a treat right then and there. Well, I guess you can say not much has changed!
After hearing that story, you would think that I would have always pursued baking. Unfortunately, I fell into the typical Tamil path that requires going to university, getting a degree and working a corporate job, which had nothing to do with baking! In 2013, I decided to make my own engagement cake. The owner of the hall loved it so much, he asked me to make it into an artificial version for him so that he could use it for other couples. That got me thinking, maybe I can turn baking into a career after all. After years of just working the boring 9-5, I finally got the courage to start my own business on the side.
The name we came up with was N’ticing Cakes (pronounced as enticing – shout out to my husband for thinking of the name). I finally got the courage to start taking orders in 2013 and being completely self-taught, I was hesitant but knew that I had what it took to make the business successful. Slowly but surely, business started picking up and the positive feedback I was getting from my clients was just unbelievable. However, at this time my husband and I decided to get married. I just couldn’t find the time to work full time, plan a wedding and take orders, all at the same time. I did however manage to make my own wedding cake and my entire dessert table (Yes, I am crazy but it was totally worth it).
So, I told myself I would take a 6 month break until life settled down. Sadly, those 6 months turned into about 2 years due to the struggles of real life. Sitting on the sidelines, while I watched those around me continue to do what I also loved to do, eventually took a toll on me. I would occasionally check my page (@nticingcakes) and continued to receive emails for order. Naturally, since I wasn’t taking any orders, I lost a lot of my clients.
This really broke my heart. Thankfully, I had the support of my amazing husband who is a huge believer in following your passion. He told me to “stop overthinking” and just start again. So, I took that leap of faith again just 5 months ago! I was discouraged at first as I wasn’t getting requests the same way that I was used to. However, my patience has paid off. Now, I am so grateful for all the requests that I’m getting and even those that I sometimes can’t keep up with. I still work full time (the struggle is real) and work on cakes every last minute that I have. Whether it is personalizing every inquiry I get, spending time collaborating on ideas with my clients and just going the extra mile – I’ve been pouring my heart and soul into this company.
In these short 5 months, I have had the amazing opportunity to complete an order for Andy Curnew, a well-known Canadian philanthropist and Jeremy Bieber (yes, Justin Bieber’s dad!) for their joint annual party. I have supported a few initiatives including ShowHer (a charity drive for mothers and children in need) and most recently the TYO’s 2017 Killithatu tournament by being their silver sponsor.
Last year, I was lucky enough to see my favorite Tamil actor speak, Madhavan. (Who by the way is just as beautiful in person and he shook my hand, AHH!) That day, he said he never tried to get into acting but through completing some acts of good deads, brought upon other opportunities and led him in the right direction. Keeping that in mind, I too often try to do good and give back as much as I can. I am working on starting my own Not-For-Profit organization, called “Scraps For Love”. (More to come on this maybe in another article!)
I guess some of you may be wondering, so what’s the point of this article? I am just an average girl, who has big dreams with obstacles like everyone else, but still decided to follow my heart and took a risk to start this venture. I easily work a minimum of 15-18 hours a day between making cakes and my day job and sometimes look and feel like a zombie. But, I know that at the end of the day that I gave it my all and I am following my heart! The overwhelming feedback I get from my clients makes every minute of hard work totally worth it. Eventually, the goal would be to only work hard for myself. I have a very long way to go to achieve my end goals, but I always remember that every step taken (big or small) is one taken in the right direction. I’m hoping that someone reading this who may be on the fence about following their heart or taking that risk, is inspired to take that step because a year or two from now, you’ll be wishing you did – you have nothing to lose!
OH, and try my cakes and treats if you haven’t already, I promise you won’t regret it! You will be enticed with every bite!
My name is Anitha Rasuratnam. Lover, creator, and dancer. I have been practicing the art of Bharathanatyam since the age of 5 and it has always been something I have kept close to my heart. I have made memories, both on and off the stage, that I carry with me to this day.
Bharathanatyam has engrained a strong sense of connection to my cultural roots, cultivated creativity, and has allowed me to express various stories through movement. The passion I have for dance has helped me translate the passion I have for other aspects of life, such as helping impact the community in a positive way. It has been a long time dream and goal to use my passion for dance to give back, and I am here to do just that.
I believe through the power of artistic expression, we as a community can come together to make a difference. I will be performing a dance recital in collaboration with The Children Aid, Rehabilitation and Education Program (C REP), a non-profit organization working towards the recovery and enhancement of children who have been affected by poverty in Sri Lanka, due to the long running Civil War and the Tsunami, which has cost the lives of many. For the past few years C REP has had an ongoing project to build a Children’s Home in Mayilambaveli, Batticaloa. Their goal is to create a shelter where children can feel safe, accepted, and surrounded by love.
Currently, the Children’s Home supports 50 girls between the ages of 6-12 who have lost their homes and their families. Through a sponsorship program, the shelter provides food and clothing for these girls on a day-to-day basis. The shelter has implemented several after school academic and art programs such as tutoring, Bharathanatyam classes, yoga classes, etc. with the hope to add more. With more funding, the centre will be able to hire more teachers and implement more programs to further cultivate the growth of these children.
The Children’s Home requires further funding in order to complete construction, to house more children and build the required facilities. As someone who is in the Interior Design field, I understand the effect and importance of creating a space where one can feel comfortable, peaceful, and at home. Caring for children starts with a safe, loving home and it is with your support that we can give these children just that; a home. All profits collected from the program as well as the gofundme page, will help with the completion of the Children’s Home. By supporting this cause you are not only providing for means to build a home, you’re giving these girls the means to build a better life.
If you are in the Toronto area and are interested in purchasing a ticket for this event, please contact prema.charityshow@gmail.com. If you are unable to attend the program, feel free to support by heading to the link below. Any bit of support is greatly appreciated!
Love,
Anitha R.
Venue: York Woods Library Theatre
Location: 1785 Finch Ave W, North York ON, M3N 1M6
Time: Doors Open at 5:00 pm. Program to commence at 6:00 pm
Authentic Sri Lankan cuisine include a distinctive and exceptional variety of tastes combined into one cooked meal. It is often presented in a certain way in order to remind us of that mouth watering taste every time we hear or see each of these remarkable dishes.
A traditional Sri Lankan meal includes a handful portion of red or white rice, one to two curries of locally sourced vegetables, one meat or seafood curry, one green sambol and a pickle, to allow the various tastes blended in together.
Sadly, locals have forgotten the optimal combination of curries and carbs, and sometimes favour meals with oversized portions of rice (I am guilty of this), excessively oily vegetable dishes (which kill the nutrients), and meat dishes with over sized meat portions as well. Mass production and the need for convenience has altered the health benefits of Sri Lankan food.
A post shared by Sangeethaa Siva, Nutritionist (@platedbysangee) on
We are so fortunate to have the opportunity to learn these culinary masterpiece recipes through our parents, so why not make use of them to create healthy lifestyle adjustments? Let’s look at a few ways you can make your Sri Lankan meal healthier while you are making it your favourite cuisine!
Always go for a smaller portion of rice
Sri Lankans are used to serving a big rice portion that would be more than enough for two people to eat. Serving a smaller portion or serving curries and vegetables proportionately will lead you to a much healthier lifestyle. If you get the chance, you can even replace your white rice with red rice, which is much healthier and will definitely help you get in shape if this is something you are concerned about.
Always add a green leaf salad to your meals
Keerai might not be your favourite part your Sri Lankan meal, but it is one of the most important items that you should include in your daily meal. A fresh green salad or a properly cooked Keerai is heavy in fibre and antioxidants depending on the type of leaves you use, but either way, adding one green salad to your daily meals is one of the smartest meal choices you can make.
Add the proper proportion of spices
Normally as Sri Lankans we need our food to be filled richly with spices, since we’ve been eating well marinated food our whole lives.
In the face of such articles, it is easy to forget the health benefits of spices. In the earliest days of trading, Sri Lanka was known as the “Spice Island”. Spices have been an essential part of our long history and cultural heritage due to their use in foods to enhance taste, as well as their health benefits.
Do not overcook your curries
Some of us prepare vegetable curries that are overcooked and basically stewed into the curry itself, essentially missing the nutritional properties of a properly cooked veggie curry. Properly cooked vegetables will give you a lot more nutrients than overcooked/boiled vegetables. This is a scientifically proven fact. So when you are cooking your Sri Lankan dishes, be aware of the nutritional concerns of different cooking methods. Eat to fuel your body, not to feed your emotions!
Replace your carbs with Quinoa, brown rice, bulgur etc.
While most of us have the opportunity to easily source any local grain at the nearest supermarket, we tend to include bread or naans in our meals. This means that we often avoid the healthy nutrients that we can get from grains and other healthy carb alternatives. If you are a health conscious eater, this probably is an item to think about.
A post shared by Sangeethaa Siva, Nutritionist (@platedbysangee) on
Remember, MODERATION is KEY! Moderation is a subjective term because it means something different for each person. For one person, eating moderately could mean eating half a roti with curry, while for another, it could mean having two whole wheat rotis instead of white roti. Many people have a biased idea of eating moderately.
Moderation is a complex word but it is also an important one. Learning to eat in moderation can help you achieve and maintain a healthy body weight without having to restrict your food intake. Have you ever gone on a diet, only to fail? Have you ever tried to cut out sugar, meat, or flour, only to crave it so badly that you wind up bingeing? I don’t believe in diets. They rarely work. I do believe in healthy lifestyle changes, but deprivation often backfires.
I believe in eating healthy, but I’m not afraid to eat an occasional pizza or cheeseburger. When we focus on diet, we usually set ourselves up for failure. It all comes back to slow changes vs. fast changes. Rather than cutting out certain kinds of foods completely, I favour eating in moderation.
I live by this, I enjoy all types of foods while following these three important keys to eating healthy: BALANCE, MODERATION and VARIETY.
The Canadian Tamils’ Humanitarian Association (CTHA) is a registered non-profit organization in Ontario that supports families and organizations in the […]
No matter what I cook, I always seek my brothers stamp approval. Here's hoping he likes my Chicken Kulambu#lovecookingformysiblings . Chicken Kulambu is a common delicacy in South Asia, Southeast Asia, as well as in the Caribbean (where it usually referred to as "chicken curry"). A typical South Asian Curry of chicken stewed in onions, tomatoes, flavoured with ginger, garlic, chilli powder, and variety of spices m, often including turmeric, cumin, coriander, cinnamon, cardamon, and so on. . It is the perfect curry to scoop up with hot Roti's!🤤
#currygoals
. Palak Paneer is a popular North Indian curry made of blanched spinach and soft paneer. This restaurant style spicy Palak Paneer consists of soft paneer cubes that are simmered in smooth vibrant green spinach gravy. . Perfect over hot Basmati rice or even French fries topped with cheese🤤Shhhh, Don't tell my family about the last part
#happinessishomemade Indulging this vegetarian meal right now🤤
#tgif
