Location: Soho
By Boeing: 5406 miles
By Boris Bike: 0.1 miles
The modern English are weaned on curries. Many a teenage evening is spent sat in makeshift booths, shoulders rubbing against scratchy red carpeted walls. Our definitions of curries are anglicised, our tikka masalas made with tomato puree and sugar masked in spice. So exploring a greater variety of curries in adult life is exciting. Branching out beyond the quartet of Madras, Dopiaza, Bhuna and Masala is liberating. Other than a few outposts in Tooting it had been difficult to get Sri Lankan food in London. Those outposts of impossibly polite, impeccably waist-coated waiters were somewhat stuffy. Worth an excursion on the northern line for the food, certainly, but not a regular for a convivial evening with friends. But with tourism to Sri Lanka building and the country gaining a certain exotic chic Hoppers opened in Soho to capitalise on the growing interest in Sri Lankan lifestyle and cuisine.
If it was a gamble to launch an unheralded cuisine on the London scene it was one that has paid off. You can’t book at Hoppers and to get a table you have to turn up three hours earlier than you wish to eat and have your name written on a clipboard. It is more than sufficient time to build up a healthy appetite. The décor of Hoppers has a certain colonial elegance, perhaps in part inspired by the success of the Bombay café inspired Dishoom chain. Exposed brick, elegant lighting, a wooden beamed roof and ceramic tile floor certainly give it a quirky sophistication.
To start, a lovely memory of a recent holiday, we enjoyed Arrak attack cocktails: strong, sweet and reminiscent. The main courses are based on hoppers, a fried, pancake like basket. They provide a tasty receptacle for curries and have a satisfying snap and crunch. The rest of the dishes were an onslaught of spice. Rich, fragrant gravies clinging to tender meats. Layers of spice build on the palate with every mouthful. But the real eye-widener is the infamous sambal, a devilishly hot paste made from chilli and coconut. Sri Lankans make their own family recipes of sambal and use it to infuse all number of dishes, proud that the heat is too much for western tastes.
For many the bustle of Bombay is too much, too visceral an experience. In comparison the historical charms of Galle, the gentle beach life of the southern resorts and the faded elegance of Kandy and the tea country make an intriguing alternative. Those returning from holidays there would very much enjoy reliving its tastes. Whether Sri Lankan cuisine will catch on in London to the same extent as Vietnamese and other spicy Asian alternatives to the old staples remains to be seen. But the long queues at Hoppers certainly suggests it has filled a growlingly popular niche in the London dining scene.
