The art of hospitality

and a recipe for Sri Lankan style spiced cashews to share

I was 19 when I flew on a plane for the first time.

Family vacations before then meant road trips. Picnic stops. Ham sandwiches with a thick slick of butter. Hot back seats and being stuck in the middle between my two sisters. Two lane highways, sandy beaches, barbecues.

We were very well travelled within a narrow radius. The circuit included places like Niagara Falls, the Thousand Islands, Ottawa, Kingston, Penticton, and exotic Montreal for Expo ‘67. We stopped at motels along the way, the routine the same. My father would inspect the rooms before he paid—and my mother always had Comet and a rag to clean the toilets before we used them.

It was a simple, cost-effective way for a family of five of modest means to be together. There was little or no emphasis on the accommodations. A heated pool was a plus, the TVs in the room were sometimes coin-operated and the only breakfast in sight was what we made or bought along the way.

The notion of hospitality was not even a faint glimmer in my mind’s eye.

hos·pi·tal·i·ty

/ˌhäspəˈtalədē/

noun

The friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers.

Since that first plane trip so many years ago,  I’ve been very fortunate to travel far and wide, to visit dream destinations and stay in the most beautiful of hotels. But despite all of that travel, it’s taken me a lifetime to understand what the true art of hospitality is really all about.

The mechanics seem simple enough. As a wise hotelier once said, with enough money, anyone can build a palace of a hotel. One look at the Dubai skyline will convince you of that. But it’s not the (Olympic-sized) heated swimming pool, the plush bathrobes, the flowers in the lobby or the helpful concierge that makes hospitality work. Nor is it the experiences that are confined within the walls of those grand facades.

It is the human moment at work forged in unexpected ways, that make memory magic.

Connecting across cultures

I was reminded of that these past two weeks as we embarked on an extended bucket list holiday to the Maldives and Sri Lanka. The Maldivian Indian Ocean was impossibly blue, the golden sand perfectly warm, the cultural treasures of Sri Lanka breathtaking and unexpected.

Yet it was the people we will remember most. At the magical Four Seasons Landaa Giraavaru in the Maldives, the resort brings together a melange of employees from 32 nations. The inspired leadership team has created a community of like-minded people all dedicated to the pursuit of creating genuine connections that have nothing to do with servitude.

On the other hand, it is rare to meet anyone but a Sri Lankan in that island country. Yet perhaps because of this, there is a curiosity and desire to get to know us, during a tuk tuk ride, a spice shopping expedition, a kayak excursion. “Where are you from?” is the usual conversation opener, and from there, we quickly build bridges and get down to the business of embracing one another’s cultures, experiences and impressions—we of them, they of us.

One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.

― Henry Miller

In a world gone topsy turvy with bitter discourse, hurtful rhetoric, and harmful actions barely imaginable, our trip was a reminder that understanding comes first from acknowledging our shared human stories. From realizing that we are more alike than apart, that we all desire being seen.

Here’s to continuing to see things in new ways, in places both familiar and undiscovered.

Spicy Sri Lankan fried cashews

Serves 2-4

Our first night in Sri Lanka was at the Galle Face Hotel in Colombo. Dating back to 1864, the hotel is like a pressed flower held timeless under glass, its formal colonial past echoing whispers in the hallways and sweeping verandas.

Room with a view…the Indian Ocean as backdrop to the beautiful gardens of the Galle Face Hotel.

While there were several options for dinner, including a Cuban-themed restaurant and the ubiquitous dinner buffet, we opted for the Traveller’s Bar. The old school setting was filled with as interesting a mix of characters as might have graced it in the past. Walls are lined with photos of famous guests from years gone by: W. Somerset Maugham, Sir Alec Guinness, Harrison Ford, Ursula Andress, Arthur C. Clarke, even Richard Nixon and Che Guevara.

In this hallowed company, what to have seems easy enough: an ice-cold Lion beer or a gin and tonic. What to nosh on was even more interesting—spicy fried cashews, Sri Lankan style. That first night’s taste prompted us to try them everywhere we went. A simple recipe with many variations, Sri Lankan fried cashews are some combination of curry leaves, garlic, shallots, cumin, coriander, turmeric, salt and pepper.

The version pictured above shows one of many we tried; I’ve distilled the ingredient list below to reflect our favourite combination of flavours. Use the ingredient list as a guide, adding more or less of what you like best. Whatever you do, eat these hot from the fryer, and be generous with the salt. There is nothing more delicious to snack on while you get deep into conversion with someone you’ve only just met.

Note: if you can’t find fresh curry leaves at a South Asian grocer, substitute in Thai basil or other small leaved basil, but don’t fry the leaves.

Ingredients

1 cup (250 ml) coconut oil

30 fresh curry leaves (see Note)

1 large shallot, peeled and thinly sliced lengthwise

12 oz (350 grams) raw cashews

1 tablespoon coarse red chilli powder

1 teaspoon ground black pepper

Salt to taste

Other spices/ingredients to try:

Thinly sliced garlic (add at the same time or instead of the shallot)

½-1 teaspoon ground turmeric, cumin or coriander

1. Heat the oil over medium high heat in a wok or large pan. Stir in the curry leaves and let them sizzle in the hot oil for about 30 seconds. The curry leaves should look shiny and be a bit crispy. Transfer the curry leaves to a plate with a slotted spoon.

2. Add the shallot to the oil. Fry for about a minute or until the shallot is just

   beginning to brown. Transfer the shallot to the plate with the curry leaves.

3. Add the cashews to the hot oil. Be sure to stir continuously so that the cashews brown evenly. You are looking for deep golden colour. Watch them carefully, as they can burn quickly. If you are using other spices, add them and stir just before removing the cashews from the oil.

4. Transfer the cashews to a bowl lined with a few paper towels to absorb some of the oil. Remove the paper towels, and add the fried curry leaves and shallot, followed by the black pepper, chilli powder and salt to taste. Toss or stir gently with a spoon to combine well.

5. Transfer the nuts to a serving bowl and serve hot.