Our Stories

What is authenticity?

I remember Amma making parippu (dhal) when we first came to New Zealand. All she had were lentils, onions, turmeric, cinnamon, and chilli powder. No coconut oil or cream, no pandan, no curry leaves. It didn’t taste like home. But it still felt like home.

As the years went on and more ingredients became available, her dhal grew closer to the original. Looking back, every version was authentic. Each one a point of view, a moment in time.

Now, decades later, we can cook a near-identical version of Sri Lanka’s most iconic dish, 11,000 km away, in a format that never existed before. That feels pretty special.

You know that question: “If you could only eat one cuisine for the rest of your life?” For us, the answer will always be Sri Lankan. Because within it you’ll find Indian, Portuguese, Dutch, British, Chinese, and countless other influences. All layered into something bold, soulful, and unforgettable.

This page is where we tell that story.

  • Lankan Cuisine

    Every bite holds a story of connections made and broken, of cultures layered over centuries. The Vedda people foraged wild and sacred. Indian pilgrims brought lentils, rice, and faith. Traders carried pickles, sweets, and noodles that lingered long after their ships. Colonisers added chillies, breads, teas, and complications. Each wave left something behind — on the plate, in the language, in the people.

    The result is a cuisine like no other: fiery yet fragrant, humble yet rich, bold yet nuanced. Food that often tells the truth better than history books.

    That’s the beauty of it: connection creates flavour. Our food shows that difference doesn’t divide. It layers, seasons, and builds. At Aiyō, we honour that legacy, recreating iconic Lankan dishes here in the South Pacific with care, intention, and a taste of where we’re going.

  • Parippu

    The dish that shows up on every Lankan table: humble, golden, impossible to live without.

    Made from nutty red lentils that turn from coral-bright to creamy and rich, parippu can be the centrepiece, the sidekick, or the quiet soul of the plate. Sometimes gravy-heavy, sometimes dry and spiced, always carrying that coconut-laced warmth.

    The method is instinctive: coconut oil, mustard seeds popping like firecrackers, cumin toasted to the edge, curry leaves and rampe releasing that tropical “you’re home” aroma. Then comes the layering of spice. Coriander, cumin, fennel, cardamom, clove, cinnamon. Every amma and aunty (and uncles) with their own blend, passed down and fiercely guarded.

    The result is a dhal that’s more than food. It’s memory. It’s mood. A dish that hugs you back and keeps you coming for more. No wonder the island can’t live without it.

  • Traditional vs. Inspired

    Every “traditional” dish started as someone’s inspired idea. A cook tried something new, it worked, and time did the editing. What survived became tradition.

    Traditional recipes carry hard-won wisdom: techniques tuned for flavour, nourishment, ceremony, and community. They connect you to people and moments. The smell of tempering, the sound of mustard seeds, the way a table falls quiet at first bite.

    That’s why we began with parippu. It’s the most traditional dish we know, steeped in memory, emotion, and cultural wisdom. It’s our anchor.

    From here, we’ll explore both paths: dishes made the classic way, and dishes inspired by that same tradition. The goal isn’t to choose between them, but to use both. To honour where the food comes from while creating new possibilities for where it can go.