What to Eat in Suriname

Suriname sits on South America’s tropical north coast, where rainforest, rivers, and a humid climate shape daily cooking. Markets in Paramaribo and coastal towns brim with fresh herbs, cassava, plantains, yardlong beans, and fiery Madam Jeanette peppers.

Meals reflect a multiethnic society—Indigenous, Maroon, Creole, Hindustani, Javanese, and Dutch influences converge in home kitchens and street stalls. People eat hearty lunches, rice-focused plates, and brothy soups that suit the heat and the islanded rhythm of river travel.

Pom is Suriname’s festive hallmark, built from grated pomtayer (Xanthosoma) layered with citrus-marinated chicken and baked until crusted and aromatic. The root is mixed with oil or chicken fat, a touch of sugar, chopped onions and celery leaves, and often brightened with sour orange or lime; the chicken is browned with garlic, tomato paste, and a hint of Madam Jeanette pepper before everything goes into the oven. The result is savory and tangy with a slightly sweet, almost custardy interior and a caramelized top, while the chicken juices seep into the starchy pomtayer, creating a rich, spoonable texture. Historically tied to colonial-era kitchens and Jewish-Surinamese households before becoming universal, pom anchors birthdays, weddings, and Sunday gatherings; it’s served hot with rice at home or cooled and sliced in sandwiches as broodje pom for an easy lunch across Paramaribo.

Roti in Suriname usually means a large, flaky roti plaat or a stuffed dhalpuri, paired with chicken stewed in a locally adapted Hindustani masala. The masala blends turmeric, cumin, coriander, fenugreek, black pepper, and sometimes clove or allspice, simmered with onions, garlic, tomatoes, potatoes, and kouseband (yardlong beans); heat comes from fresh chili or Madam Jeanette, and the gravy thickens to a glossy, clingy sauce. The roti is torn by hand to scoop the fragrant curry, giving a soft-chewy contrast to tender chicken and creamy potatoes, with sharp herbal notes from Surinamese celery and a citrusy finish if lime pickle or zuurgoed is on the side. Introduced by Indian contract laborers in the late 19th century and shaped in a Dutch-speaking Caribbean context, this is an everyday lunch or dinner in Paramaribo and Nieuw Nickerie, equally popular for take-away or communal family meals.

Saoto soep descends from Indonesian soto ayam and thrives in Suriname’s Javanese community as a customizable, steaming bowl. A clear, chicken-forward broth is perfumed with lemongrass, ginger, and bay leaf, sometimes kaffir lime leaf, then served with shredded chicken, vermicelli or glass noodles, bean sprouts, chopped celery leaves, and the unmistakable local twist—crisp potato sticks sprinkled on top. Diners finish it at the table with hard-boiled egg, fried shallots, sambal, and sweet soy (kecap manis), balancing umami, gentle sweetness, and chili heat; the textures run from brothy and light to crunchy and silky in each spoonful. Saoto’s portability and brightness make it a favorite breakfast, market snack, or late-night restorative after celebrations, reflecting the enduring culinary bridge between Suriname and Indonesia through Javanese migration.

Moksi alesi—literally “mixed rice”—is a Creole one-pot dish that turns preserved and fresh ingredients into a deeply flavored staple. Rice simmers with coconut milk or stock and absorbs sautéed aromatics like onion, garlic, and leaf celery, while cook’s-choice add-ins might include salted cod (bakkeljauw), smoked chicken, dried shrimp, black-eyed peas, and sometimes okra or yardlong beans; a whole Scotch bonnet–type pepper such as Madam Jeanette is often added for perfume and controlled heat. The texture is moist but not soupy, with smoky-salty notes rounded by coconut richness and herbal brightness; each forkful delivers varied bites rather than uniform seasoning. Rooted in resourcefulness from plantation and river-travel contexts, moksi alesi is practical for family lunches, neighborhood gatherings, and road journeys, since it packs well and tastes even better after resting in its own aromatics.

Bruine bonen met rijst (BB&R) pairs stewed brown beans with plain rice, a Creole standard cherished for its balance and depth. The beans simmer with onions, garlic, thyme, tomato, and bay leaf, plus salted or smoked meats such as pigtail or ham hock for body and aroma; a whole Madam Jeanette may float in the pot to infuse heat without overwhelming the stew. The gravy thickens naturally, yielding tender beans in a savory-slightly sweet sauce, especially when served with ripe fried plantain and tangy cucumber pickles (zuurgoed) for contrast. Tied to home cooking and Sunday meals, BB&R shows the Surinamese knack for pairing legumes and rice without mixing them into one pot, making it easy to adjust portions in the tropical heat and share generously around the family table.

Surinamese cuisine stands out for its layered blend of Indigenous, Creole, Hindustani, Javanese, and Dutch traditions shaped by a tropical climate. Rice anchors plates, peppers add perfume and fire, and herbs bring brightness that suits warm weather. Explore more food-led travel ideas and plan by season with Sunheron.com’s smart filters.