Method
1. Devein the prawns. Wash thoroughly and remove excess water. Add salt and keep aside.
2. Grind the ginger, garlic, cumin seeds, red chillies, cloves, cinnamon and mustard seeds along with vinegar into a fine paste.
3. Heat the oil in a non-stick pan and sauté the prawns till all the moisture dries up. Drain the prawns and set aside. In the same oil sauté the onions till they turn soft and light brown.
4. Add the tomatoes and sauté on high heat till they turn pulpy and the oil surfaces. Add the ground masala and sauté for two to three minutes. Add the prawns and jaggery.
5. Check the seasoning and cook on low heat for five to seven minutes more or till the oil leaves the masala.
6. Last step is to do a
feni
flambé, so add
feni
and light the flame, so it gets that caramelised sweetness at the end, till
feni
evaporates.
7. Serve hot with rice.
D
AY
43
17 September / Panjim
Today was the day to explore the spice trade of Goa. I travelled to Curti, in Ponda, where I met the people of Sahakari Spice Farm. The farm covers an area of 150 acres and has been around since the eighties. They use a balance of scientific growing techniques, with ancient mixed cropping methods, to grow their spices. They are also very conscious of their water management system and their farming techniques allow them to use their water efficiently. When they began farming more than 20 years ago, the land that they had acquired was barren. Today, they have a large variety of spice plants and cashew nut trees. What makes this farm special is that it does not look like a regular farm with rows of neatly manicured plants and distinct growing areas. The farm is integrated into the larger ecosystem of the surrounding habitat, where the plants grow in tandem with the natural foliage of the area. Being able to replicate this natural integrated system means that the plants are healthier, biodiversity is maintained and the life and health of the farm is prolonged.
The caretaker of the plants was a very kind local called Francis who took me on a tour of the plantation. First I saw green pepper. It was interesting to learn that one single fruit of the green pepper tree, at different stages of ripening, gives us different types of the spice pepper. Another spice that I saw and learnt about was bay leaf. Francis asked me to pluck a leaf, tear the stem away from the leaf, and differentiate the smells. I could smell cinnamon from the stem, while the leaf distinctly smelt like bay leaf. I was intrigued by the combination. Francis explained that Indian bay leaf or
malabathrum
(Cinnamomum Tamala, Lauraceae) is somewhat similar in appearance to the leaves of bay laurel, but in culinary terms, is quite different, having a fragrance and taste similar to cinnamon bark, but milder. For cinnamon, the tree is grown till 15 years of age, and then it is cut and dried, to make the spice ready to use. The other spices I saw were vanilla pods, cloves, chilli, curry leaves, turmeric and ginger. After the tour, they served me a traditional Goan meal, to which I added my own twist!
I used the spices from the farm to prepare a lively fruity dish
Pineapple Green Pepper Curry
for the friends I made on the tour.
P
INEAPPLE
G
REEN
P
EPPER
C
URRY
(Pineapples cooked in coconut and green peppercorn curry.)
Ingredients
Method
1. Heat the olive oil and once done, add mustard seeds and let them splutter.
2. Add cinnamon stick, green chilli, curry leaves, green peppercorns, and onions. Fry for about a minute or two. Add grated ginger, garlic and fenugreek seeds. Sauté for another minute or so.
3. Add the pineapple, turmeric, vinegar, salt and sugar. Cook until vinegar is absorbed.
4. Now add the coconut milk and cook it on low flame for 10-12 minutes.
5. The curry is ready; serve it hot with steamed rice.
∼
Before I talk about my visit to the famous Mum’s Kitchen, I would like to talk a little about my eating habits. As a child, and till recently, I was a vegetarian. But being a chef doesn’t allow you to take sides! So now I eat everything I am served. Goa was very intriguing to me as a lot of the food here was based on meat dishes that included pork, beef and chicken. The Portuguese influence here is so strong that these dishes have survived through time and become the identity of Goan food. Goa has seen a tourism explosion like no other state in the country has seen, and hence, the authenticity of the food has been diluted to some extent. I wanted to experience true Goan cuisine, cooked by locals, without any compromise. So I headed to Mum’s Kitchen.
Mum’s Kitchen, a growing movement headed by a gentle Goan by the name Suzie, is a must-visit for nativefood- seekers like me. She began this kitchen with her mother-in-law’s recipes, and added a few of her own. ‘Mothers’ from different parts of Goa have contributed and helped to compile the menu. Her effort is to sustain the genuineness of each recipe and to bring to the table her love for good food.
To give you a little background on Goan food, here is a summary of what I learnt at Mum’s Kitchen.
The Portuguese brought potatoes, tomatoes, pineapples, guavas, and cashews from Brazil to Goa. Of these, tomatoes and potatoes were not accepted by the Hindus until the late twentieth century. The most important part of Goan spices, the chilli, was introduced to Goan cuisine by the Portuguese and became immensely popular. None of the above mentioned ingredients were used in Goan cuisine before the advent of the Portuguese. All the dishes I ate there were based around Portuguese traditions, especially since I was in a Catholic kitchen. First, I tried my hand at vindaloo. I was taught the true recipe and was informed politely that vindaloo has absolutely no
aloo
(potato) in it.
Suzie revealed, ‘It is all about the spice mix. The spice mixture is a cooked paste that can be stored and used to make vindaloo with pork, chicken, beef, or anything else that one might like.’ So to de-mystify this recipe, I shall break it into three parts.
Part one were the dry spices used, that included Kashmiri chilli for colour,
ghati
chilli for the spice, cinnamon, clove, spicy ginger, garlic, bay leaf, cumin, turmeric, pepper, tamarind, and the very special, palm vinegar.
Part two was the masala paste. The dry spices need to be ground together into a dry mix. After which onions and tomatoes need to be fried in coconut oil. Then, the dry ground spices need to be added to this onion-tomato mixture. After the two cook together, the entire masala is cooled and made into a coarse paste once again.
Part three was the curry which, I was told, depended on the kind of meat you were using for the curry. The meat had to be cut and prepared for marination. The marinade included salt, lemon juice and turmeric. Once the meat had been marinated, it was kept aside for about 15-20 minutes. The curry was a mix of the masala paste, water and the meat. And
that
was what vindaloo was all about! Phew!
Other dishes I tasted were
xacuti,
a curry made of meat, grated coconut, poppy seeds and dried red chillies. I also had
cafreal,
which is a dry but spicy chicken delicacy. The meat is smeared with a paste of chilli, garlic, ginger, coriander and mint. It is then shallow fried. Goans boast a heritage of desserts too.
Bebinca
is one of the most popular local sweets. It is a festive dessert made in abundance for Christmas. This is a 10-layered cake made from a mix of refined flour, egg yolk, sugar and coconut milk.
I learnt a lot about ingredients that were unique to Goa, especially the palm vinegar and black jaggery. I was fortunate enough to take some back with me, to cook for my family. I firmly believe that it is these small, sometimes overlooked ingredients that characterise and differentiate regional cuisines from one another. Goa might be the smallest state, but it is definitely one of the most diverse and complex, as far as the cuisine is concerned. Before Goa is left behind, the people here definitely deserve a special mention. They believe in living life at a pace that allows you to stop and appreciate everything, especially the little things, around you. Life is slow and there is always time to relax.
D
AY
44
18 September / Udupi
On our way to Udupi, in Karnataka, we stopped along the highway to eat lunch and rest for a while. The reason I mention this stop is the buttermilk that I had then. It isn’t uncommon in India to have a refreshing glass of buttermilk on a hot summer day. But this buttermilk, subtly flavoured with ginger, curry leaves and mustard seeds just blew my mind. Simplicity can inspire tremendous amounts of energy and positivity. I made my way to Udupi.
D
AY
45
19 September / Udupi
Most of us don’t know that Udupi is a small town in Karnataka. We see the word ‘Udupi’ on restaurant signs and don’t usually correlate it with a town or a type of cuisine. This confusion is not uncommon. Udupi is mainly known for its Krishna temple, also called Krishna Matha. It is a pilgrimage spot for devout Hindus. Udupi cuisine has close ties to the temple. Hence, this was the place where I decided to learn about the cuisine.
Here I met Srinath, the public relations officer of the temple. It was interesting to learn about the dynamics of temple management. Here I was, thinking that the only person in the temple would be the priest. He explained that the Krishna Matha resembled an
ashram
(a hermitage, monastic community, or other place of religious retreat). Apart from the Krishna Matha, there were eight other temples in the surrounding area. The temples dated back to the thirteenth century. The founder of the temple, Sri Madhav Acharya, had very firm principles around the making and eating of food. Udupi cuisine comprises dishes made primarily from grains, beans, vegetables, and fruits. The variety and range of dishes is wide, and involves the use of locally and seasonally available ingredients. It adheres strictly to the
satvik
tradition of Indian vegetarian cuisine using no onions or garlic. Pumpkins and gourds were the main ingredients in the
sambar
(a lentil-based vegetable stew or chowder based on a broth made with tamarind) that was prepared with ground coconut and coconut oil. I was also told that the ubiquitous South Indian dish,
masala dosa
(a fermented crêpe made from rice batter and black lentils stuffed with potato masala), had its origins in Udupi.
Srinath gave me a tour of the 12 kitchens producing 70,000 meals a day. I wondered how they were managing that everyday? These were the very kitchens where the cuisine was born. To enter the kitchen, you had to be in traditional attire, which were the
janivaara
or the sacred white thread and the
dhoti.
They made 300 kg of rice and 300 litres of
rasam
(thin, spicy south Indian soup served with other dishes, typically as a drink) everyday. The food is meant to cleanse your body and mind. It is served traditionally on a banana leaf, and of course, you have to eat with your hands. The process of feeding all the visiting devotees is called
Anna Brahma (anna
means rice and Brahma after Lord Brahma, the creator). The food I ate was nutritious, delicious and simple. Future warning: eating
sambar
with your hands ain’t easy; so,
practise!
Also, if you want to eat good Udupi food, a restaurant is definitely not the place to go to.
After a somewhat religious morning and a holistic lunch, I visited the Nadur Farm. This was a small village 30 km from Udupi. Here, the Kairana family was trying to promote goat farming and goat milk. Not a very common or commercially available dairy product, the aim of the farm was to revitalise the goat rearing industry and rejuvenate the local economy and rural development. I saw how the goats were stall fed a special feed that was processed on the farm. The milk was collected hygienically using an efficient technology. It was sold in 500 millilitres pasteurised packets and delivered fresh to Mumbai and Bengaluru everyday. I opened a freshly-sealed packet and tasted the milk straightaway. It was fresh and sweet which was surprising. Goat milk is generally known to have a sharp odour and a distinct taste, but this milk broke those myths for me. Nadur Farm is one of the best stall-fed farms in India; they are very careful about what their goats eat and how they are treated.
I used the milk to make a fancy dessert called
Beetroot
Halwa
with
Rabri
Toast.
B
EETROOT
H
ALWA
WITH
R
ABRI
T
oast
(Sweet shallow fried bread topped with reduced goat milk.)