Heritage Breakfast Walk in Pune

There I am waiting for Jayesh Paranjape under the ornate carved-wood balcony of  Vishrambaug wada, once the residence of Peshwa Baji Rao II, early on a Saturday morning. It is another bright sunny day in Pune, the nip in the air more pronounced than it has been in the past few days.  A parade of school children marches by, screaming slogans in unison, in Marathi. I try to figure out what it is that they are rallying for. Then I spot Jayesh waving at me from across the road and forget all about the rallying children or their cause.  I had met the Jayesh over a delectable Maharashtrian thali at Janaseva Bhojanalay a couple of days earlier and today he is taking me on a Heritage Breakfast Tour in the old town area. The idea is to eat at a few of Pune’s oldest and best eateries. I am excited. It is food we are talking about. 

Jayesh runs the show at Western Routes, a local out fit that organises interesting tours and trips in and around Pune and across Maharashtra. And I have signed up for their Heritage Breakfast Trail, only this one was going to be an exclusive one-on-one affair.

 “Let us buy the bakarwadi first,” Jayesh says once we have exchanged pleasantries. Ah he remembered. I had mentioned the other day how I wanted to take bakarwadi for the family.  One of my aunts had especially ordered for “a couple of kilos at least.” She, of course, didn’t bother much about the fact that air tickets come with a restricted baggage allowance. 

Across the lane adjacent to the Vishrambagwada, on the corner, stands the septuagenarian Chitale Bandhu Mithaiwale’s shop, one of Pune’s most illustrious sweetshops especially famous for its bakarwadi. “They sell over 3000 kilos of bakarwadi a day,” Jayesh tells me as we enter the shop. Inside it takes me much resilience and self control to stay off the mind-boggling array of sweet and savoury treats sitting pretty in large glass showcases.  I manage with little assistance from Jayesh, he keeps reminding me how much eating we had to do that morning. I do not want to ruin my appetite of course. So I train my eyes on the guy packing bags of Bakarwadi, willing myself to think about other things, for instance the thalipeeth I would get to sample at the Poona Guest House later in the morning. 

Finally I walk out with little less than 5 kilos of bakarwadi, all the while running in my mind the things I would say to the airlines officials. I could cry a little perhaps. It had worked once. Our next stop is the New Sweet Home in the Sadashiv Peth area. Originally Western Routes’ Heritage Breakfast walk starts with a tour of the Mahatma Phule Mandai, the city’s old fruits and vegetables market  followed by a treat at Sri Krushna Bhavan, another heritage eatery of the city. However, I had taken another tour with Western Routes around the historical sites of the city like on an earlier date when I had toured the Mandai and sampled the fabled Puneri Misal at Sri Krushna Bhavan. 

Misal pav is another archetypal Maharashtrian dish. Though there are numerous versions of the Misal, the most common version comprises fiery gravy called Kutt and curried sprouts (usually moth beans) topped with a generous serving of deep-fried gram flour crunchies or sev. It is served with bread. I had had Misal Pav once before, on another trip to this part of the country. I had come on a press trip to the Four Season’s winery in Baramati, a couple of hours drive from Pune. 

However, the Misal Pav served at Sri Krushna Bhuvan is interestingly different. So instead of sprouted beans, SKB serves a mildly spiced poha, a pilaf made of flattened rice which is topped off with crunchy sev and some chopped coriander. Finely chopped raw onions and lime wedges come along with it. The kutt, called sample locally, is very spicy with a mighty heat quotient. The idea is to pour the kutt onto the poha, add a squeeze of lime, sprinkle some raw onions and then scoop the mix up with bread and relish it. 

My companion on the walk, a young girl from Estonia who was currently staying in Pune, working as a yoga instructor, had a difficult time dealing with the Kutt. She seemed to be in pain, this despite the fact that we had requested for a mildly spiced Kutt for her. We had ordered for some buttermilk to wash down our missal with and that provided some succor, and not only to my companion.  I had rather condescendingly declared I wanted to sample the real deal, despite my guide Shruti’s warnings, and but the time I had taken a few mouthfuls of the missal doused in the chili-laden kutt my tongue had been on fire. But it was so good there was no stopping me. On our way out we saw there were 30 odd people waiting to get a table at Sri Krushna Bhavan and the queue had trickled onto the streets.  I knew exactly why.

Anyway so today I choose to give Sri Krishna Bhuvan a miss. So we head straight to New Sweet Home. The shop, almost six decades a part of the Puneri food scape offers a few rare treats. “This isn’t the most popular sweetshop in town but they serve a few things that you just cannot miss,” Jayesh tells me as we settle for a table outside the sweetshop cum restaurant, in the open. Jayesh knows exactly what to order and wastes absolutely no time. Minutes later we have a plate of Matar Karanji and one of Upvas Kachori in front of us, one comes with pain coconut chutney, the other with a mint-coriander chutney, this one has coconut too. A third plate arrives soon after, this one with three different kinds of laddu, gond, atta and khajur/dates. 

I go for the Matar Karanji first. Karanji is usually sweet, deep fried pastry stuffed with a sweet coconut, dry fruits and jaggery filling. But this one, crisp and flaky, is a delightful savoury version with a mildly spiced coconut and green peas stuffing. I take small bites lest I finish it off too soon, and with it I savor spoonfuls of the green coconut-mint-coriander chutney, relishing the heat from the green chilies. Jayesh;s phone wouldn't stop ringing. The morning paper carried news of an exciting camping trip Western Routes was organizing and too many people seemed interested. Jayesh is apologetic. I tell him not to bother,  I have food to keep me busy. 

Next I turn to the Upvas Kachori. Upvas means fasting and as the name suggests this dish is especially made in Maharashtrian households on the traditional days of fasting. The upvas Kachori is nothing but deep fried potato croquettes with a sweet coconut and dry fruit centre. I am qite impressed by the play of sweet and savoury in the same mouthful of Upvas Kachori. The potato is merely seasoned with salt and tempered with little cumin, the coconut stuffing is nothing but sweetened fresh coconut and dry fruits. It is simple, and it’s the simplicity that makes the dish so endearing.

Next I turn to the Upvas Kachori. Upvas means fasting and as the name suggests this dish is especially made in Maharashtrian households on the traditional days of fasting. The upvas Kachori is nothing but deep fried potato croquettes with a sweet coconut and dry fruit centre. I am qite impressed by the play of sweet and savoury in the same mouthful of Upvas Kachori. The potato is merely seasoned with salt and only a hint of spice is added and the coconut stuffing is nothing but sweetened fresh coconut and dry fruits. It’s the simplicity that makes the dish so endearing.

From Sweet Home we head straight to Poona Guest House on Laxmi Road, the busiest commercial street in Old Poona.  Poona Guest House was founded in 1935 and has over these eight decades maintained its illustrious reputation for serving superlative Maharashtrian food , authentic and delicious. The restaurant is on the first floor and  when we walk in  it is relatively less crowded. We find a table without having to wait and Jayesh immediately places the orders - Thalipeeth and Dadpe Pohe, two of Poona Guest House's iconic dishes.

Thalipeeth, which is nothing but  spiced multi-grain fried bread,  is not new to me but I have never sampled Dadpe Pohe before. Jayesh explains that it is uncooked flattened rice or poha that is lightly doused in buttermilk, and then tossed with finely chopped onions, green chilies, fresh grated coconut, seasoning and crisps& crunchies like crumbled papad. With a squeeze of lime, Dadpe Pohe is one of Maharashtra's favourite snack.

I like the idea of Dadpe Pohe, but when I finally eat it I realise am not crazy about it. I like the play of texture, especially the large grains of sugar that add a sweet bite to the Poona Guest House version of the dish but after a couple of spoonfuls I decide I could do without it. It was the thalipeeth I was excited about.

The thalipeeth we are served comes with a dollop of fresh Buffalo milk white butter locally known as loni, and with it some dry garlic and peanut chutney. I can spot the sesame seeds and the finely chopped onion studding the deliciously crusty, deep-fried disc of spicy goodness. I waste no time. Jayesh tells me about the specil mix of flour that is used to make the dish, he even shares a healthier recipe for making thalipeeth at home, I nod and mumble something from time to time but otherwise I expend all my energy in wolfing the thalipeeth down. I am so stuffed I can hardly breathe but I can't  stop. And we have another place to check out before we can call it a morning!

After I had polished off the last crumbs of the thalipeeth, I find it difficult to move. But a walk now is all  the more necessary. And the walk down to the Gujjar Cold Drink House does me good. The struggle to dodge collisions with cycles and scooters for once helps in settling the food down. We are at eight decade old  establishment to sample one of Pune's most iconic drinks Mastani - a Puneri version of a milk shake with ice cream or an ice cream shake. Though you get mastani in numerous joints across Pune, Gujjar Cold Drink House stands out, says Jayesh. We order for a Mango Mastani, split into two. I like the name Mastani. I think of Mastani, the woman, the lover, the wife of Maratha Peshwa Baji Rao 1. A muslim in love with a Hindu Brahmin, at that time. Just then some one orders for a Bajirao Mastani. Ah so they have a drink named after the lovers. I sigh.

Inside Gujjar Cold Drink House it is dark - power cut - but the legacy of the place is unmistakable. I sit on one of the benches, across the cramped little room three men relish their mastanis with utmost concentration. The glasses full of creamy goodness look delectable. My stomach does a somersault. On the opposite wall hangs a huge mirror framed in an ornate wooden frame. The mastani arrives soon. It is a delicious milk shake with scoops of ice cream and mango pulp. I go through the next few minutes oblivious to my surroundings. No the drink is nothing unique, but it is delicious nonetheless! 

Konkani Chicken Rasa

I am still not over my recent trip to the Konkan coast. Memories of  the Konkan shoreline, the pristine beaches, the quaint fisherman;s hamlets, the smell of the sea, the clear blue skies continue to clutter my mind. Above all it is the food I can't stop thinking about. 

Like I mentioned in my previous post, our dinner at the homestay in Ganeshgule where we stayed the night, was a delicious affair. I had mounds of rice with the dry and spicy sukkha chicken, and even more with the spicy rasa. The woman who cooks at the homestay was only too keen to share the recipe when I asked for it. In fact, she took the trouble of writing it all down for me. And then she posed for me too. In my ecstatic state of mind I forgot to ask her name. I'll just call her Taayi ( elder sister in Marathi), just like the lanky lad waiting on us.

I was a little perturbed when I realised the recipe was written in Marathi, I don't know a word in Marathi, but then A came to my rescue. Luckily A had some knowledge of Marathi and she managed to summarize the recipe for me, on the road. However, when I decided to try it this morning I found myself in a fix again. So I turned to an aunt who has grown up and still lives in Maharashtra and thanks to technology she was able to read and translate the recipe, somewhat, for me... (she struggled with a few parts that were difficult to read in the poor photograph taken on my not-so-smart phone) so that I could trump up this flavoursome and simple curry I have grown to love, in my own kitchen.  The recipe however had not come with exact measurements hence I had to follow my instinct. My version is no less delicious, and pretty close to the delightful dish I had savoured a few nights ago in that humble homestay on a distant Konkan beach. 

The recipe!!!

The soupy curry goes best  with plain steamed rice or thin chappatis, I prefer rice. I always prefer rice. The heat is far from overwhelming and the flavours of the fresh ingredients shine through. On a winter night this rasa is my pick for a night-in with friends or family.

Ingredients

Chicken - 600 g
Grated desiccated coconut - 80g
Onion (roughly chopped) - 2 (medium)
Onion (thinly sliced) - 1 (medium)
Tomato (finely chopped) - 1
Ginger-garlic paste - 3/4 tbsp
Garlic cloves - 3-4
Cloves - 6
Peppercorns - 10-12
Cinnamon stick - 2 inch
Red chili powder  1 tbsp heaped (or to taste)
Finely chopped coriander/cilantro leaves - 4-5 tbsp
Salt to taste
A pinch of sugar
White Oil as required

Method 

Boil in the chicken in 5 cups of water (1 l) along with a little salt and a few cloves of garlic. Keep aside. Reserve stock.

Fry the desiccated coconut in a little oil until golden. Also fry the roughly chopped onions to a uniform golden. In a food processor grind the two together to make a paste.

In a heavy bottomed pan, heat a few table spoons of oil. Add cloves, cinnamon and whole peppercorns
into it.

Add thinly sliced onion and fry until soft and golden. Add ginger, garlic and chopped tomatoes. Also add red chili powder. Fry until oil separates and then add the onion-coconut paste. Fry for a few minutes and add the chicken, along with the stock.

Bring to a boil, add salt and a pinch of sugar. Let it it simmer for a few minutes.

Finally add chopped coriander leaves and remove from heat.

In Ratnagiri: Of delicious food and breathtaking sights

We reached Ratnagiri in time for a sunset stroll on the beach, only,  all that we had been through during the  sixteen odd hours since we left Pune had drained us of every ounce of energy. On reaching our home stay, (we were staying at a quaint beach side homestay called Oceano Pearl) we headed straight for our room, downed a few swigs of rum and remained immobile for the next hour or so. We had lost a day of what was going to be a two-day sojourn in Ratnagiri and now we were too tired to make the most of the evening. Anxious we were not having enough fun we willed ourselves to leave our beds, get out of our room and head downstairs. The rum had begun taking effect, my frayed nerves were beginning to relax, but the throbbing pain around the back of my head wouldn't go.

By the time we stepped out it was pitch dark all around, not to mention the piercing silence that accentuated the darkness. We parked ourselves in the coconut orchard, 'A' precariously sprawled on a hammock and I on a wobbly chair. We were too tired to talk, so we sat their humming our favourite tunes, but soon we were singing at the top of our voice attracting some attention - what prodded us, if it was the rum or the exhaustion I do not know. I thought I could hear the sea too. How close were we? To the sea?



Dinner at the homestay was a delicious Konkani meal comprising rice, chapati, a spicy sol kadhi, sukkha chicken laced in a fiery mix of spices, and a subtly spiced rasa chicken, a runny chicken curry done the Konkan way. For desserts we were served modak, a soft rice flour shell stuffed with sweet coconut and dry fruit stuffing. The lanky lad waiting on us sets a bowl of clarified butter next to the modak that are warm. "Pour the ghee on the modak," he instructs. We add some of the deliciously aromatic ghee to out rice, and then order for more rice to have with more ghee. I was quite fond of the rasa too, and after hesitating a while, asked the woman who cooks at the homestay if she could share the recipe. She said she will, but later.

 I only hoped she would. I wasn't quite sure though.

Day 2

I had had a restless night and had only fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning. So, when A woke me up asking if I'd like to join her in the beach, I mumbled something about joining her in a while and went right back to sleep. I woke up an hour later. A had not returned from the beach. I was still feeling tired, in fact, the throbbing ache at the back of my head had returned with a vengeance. May be I'll give the beach a miss, I thought, "why there would be so many beaches on the way around the place," I argued, but I was hardly convinced. I couldn't leave without a glimpse, at least, of the Ganeshgule beach.

Camera in hand I strolled down the path flanked by the coconut orchard we had spent the previous evening in. It was a bright sunny day, warm but pleasant. I wondered if the walk to the beach would be a long one. At the end of the orchard was a stone wall and in it a tiny gate, ajar. The moment I reached the gate I squealed in delight. I stepped onto the green foliage on the other side and in front of me the green gradually gave way to the white sandy beach and then the mind-blowing blue of the ocean. The ring of trees around the beach swayed merrily in the morning breeze. There was not a soul in sight.



I have hardly seen a beach so serene, so clean. Tiny crabs scampered to their retreats under the sand as I walked by. A few minutes later I spotted A, in the water, stooping over the surf, perhaps looking for a seashell. She loves sea shells and was perhaps looking to add to her collection. I wished we had more time in hand, a swim in the sea is hard to resist. Alas, we had no time. But that was keeping us out of the water. "Knee-deep is good we decided, though the sea had other plans," A ended up drenched, I managed to remain dry, but secretly wished the sea would unleash one of it antics on me. With me however the sea behaved! We chased crabs, and watched seagulls wade in the white surf, clicked a million photographs and obsessed over our own footprints on the sand. Simply sitting there watching distant boats bob on the blue waters was enough to rejuvenate our sodden souls.

Breakfast comprised simple sabudana khichdi and poha topped with grated fresh coconut ad loads of green chilies.With it came a sheet on paper with the hand written recipe of the previous night's chicken rasa. I was ecstatic. But wait, it was written in Marathi. A came to my rescue, she could read it for me she said. Relieved, I thanked the woman profusely. She smiled the sweetest smile.



Soon after we hit the road headed for the Purnagadh Fort. The short trek up a stone stairway to the Purnagadh fort was through a small village with quaint houses with stone fences and cactus hedges. Half way up I found my ankle throbbing with pain. A previous injury often decides to manifest at the most inopportune moments. I prompted A to carry on while I returned to wait in the car. I sat in the car, irked by my unfortunate situation. A returned a while later exclaiming, "It was only another 2 minute climb, you had almost made it." I was of course crestfallen, the photographs broke my heart." The Purnagadh fort, or what remains of it, has an intriguing character. The stone arches, the spectacular views of the ocean through the embrasures, the wild foliage and the atmosphere charged with history - Purnagadh is an experience I will regret missing.

Our next stop was the Ratnadurg Fort and this time I had decided, no matter what I was going to see the fort. However, we made a slight detour and headed for the Desai Bandhu Ambewale shop in the small village of Pawas. The Ratnagiri district is home to the fabled Alphonso mangoes and Desai is one of its biggest producers in the region. At their shop they have on offer a mind-boggling variety of Alphonso products like jams, relish, squash, pickles. Their canned aam ras is absolutely delightful and their most popular product. They also have a sizable assortment of jackfruit and kokum products- jackfruit wafers, kokum extract and juice etc as also special Malvani spices. One item in particular, the kokum oil, it comes in a solid form actually, caught my attention. We were told it is extremely beneficial for treating chapped skin during winter. After we had horded a truck load of mango products, this is the closest you can get to savouring fresh Alphonso in December, the products are made from frozen pulp of the fruit that is carefully preserved, we drained a couple of bottles of mango juice each, which of course did wonders to our spirits, and was soon back on the road, headed for Ratnadurg Fort.



Ratnadurg is a horse-shoe shaped fort built during the Bahamani reign and offers spectacular views of the Arabian sea. It is better maintained than the Purnagadh fort but lacks  its fantastic charm. It is more of a robust and functional structure without any trimming. In fact there is not much to see except the hoary stone ramparts and mighty bastions. But the views are mind-boggling. I stood for a while scanning the vast expanse of the Arabian sea. In the afternoon sunshine the water glistened, like molten gold. On the cliff across stands a lone lighthouse. A Brahmani kite was performing an aerial recital nearby. A seagull flapped its wings noisily as it  flew over my head. Otherwise there was silence. Soon a noisy group of tourists turned the corner, I heaved a sigh, I do not know why, and continued on my walk towards the exit of the fort, my mind cluttered with the silence of the deep blue sea. A silence that speaks a thousand words.

We take the road again, this time headed for the Ganapatiphule beach, the most popular beach in Ratnagiri. On the way we stop at the Aare Vare Beach, a quaint blue water beach on the Ganapatiphule coastal highway. But by now it was the drive that had as awestruck. The road coiled up the barren cliffs overlooking the sea, offering spectacular views that would remain etched in our memory for days to come.



By the time we reached Ganapatiphule it was almost 4 in the afternoon. In a couple of hours we would have to catch our train back. Besides we were extremely hungry, my stomach lurched and my mouth was bitter. I could think of nothing but food. The road leading up to the Ganapatiphule temple (we had decided to give the temple a miss, the crowd discouraged us)  is lined with tiny restaurants serving home cooked Malvani food. But at this hour they were all closed. Lunch hour was long over. After asking around for a while we finally found one place, a humble but clean roadside shack called Spicy and Tasty, that was ready to cook us a meal. And this meal was by far the best we had had in Ratnagiri.

The sol kadhi, with only a hint of spices was the most delightful version of the drink I had sampled on my trip. Then there was the crusty Surmai rawa fry - inside the crunchy semolina crust, it made a squelching noise when I bit into it,  the fish was beautifully laced in an aromatc mix of spices. The fish was flaky and juicy just one look and I was salivating shamelessly. Ahad opted for a pomfret, locally called pamlet, the gorgeous fish came with a similar crust and was done to perfection. On the side we were served a typical Malvani gravy, spicy but not hot, hence the layers of flavours were distinct and such a treat for the palate. We had a train to catch but for now we were in no hurry. The next half an hour or so was spent in silence, the only sounds being that of the squelching sound of biting into the crusty rawa fry and the clanking of bowls and plates. The memories of the meal still lingers on my tongue!

By the time we were done we had less than a hour and a 30 km drive to our train. We had tried to fit a two-day itinerary into a single day, in fact three quarters of a day. Naturally we had to be content with the breathtaking views of the Ganapatiphule beach, we had to give the stroll a miss. On the plus side, we enjoyed some pretty spectacular views from the train. The Konkan railway is famed for its picturesque routes, and even though for only a short while we feasted on the beauty on the Konkan coast as the train chugged homewards.

Mumbai to Ratnagiri: A delish road trip

 "Is the train to Ratnagiri expected on time?"
"What train to Ratnagiri? There is no train to Ratnagiri now, no train is coming this way before 5 in the morning and that one doesn't go to Ratnagiri either."
"But there is one at 2:13 a.m. We have reservations," A was arguing with the railway official at the Panvel station, as she frantically browsed through her inbox for our E tickets. I stood a few feet away, guarding our luggage, my heart thumping noisily inside my rib cage. I had been the first to notice that our train did not feature on the list for the night.

"Here see," A had begun, but her voice tapered  into an incoherent jumble of whispers, she was now talking to herself.  The railway official gave a triumphant smirk and walked away. A looked at me with nothing short of despondence in her almond shaped eyes. "There has been a mistake," she muttered.  "We got the dates wrong. We should have booked the tickets for 30th, we did for 29th." A mumbled guiltily.

 I had braced myself for the worst. Right then I was not quite sure what it was that I was feeling. This was a trip we had planned over several weeks. This was supposed to be the highlight of my visit to A's at Pune. We had dreamed of our sojourn to the beautiful Konkan coast for days -  the serene beaches flanked by the magical blue of the Arabian sea and the rocky hills that are the Western ghats, the delicious Malvani and Konkani food, the forts overlooking the sea, the walks through quaint villages and fishermen's hamlets, had cluttered our thoughts for so many days.

Now here we were at the deserted Panvel station at 2 in the morning, with no train to board. Our train had whizzed through this station, last night and we weren't there. Now that we were, there was no train coming for us.

It took us some time to process the details. There were two options really, one to get on a cab back to Pune or get to Ratnagiri, no matter what. We didn't waste much time weighing our options.
We were lucky that the cab that had brought us from Pune to Panvel was still in the vicinity and was back for us in no time. A minutes later we were on our way to well...Mumbai.

It is not often that I land up at a stranger's house past 3 in the morning, But there I was at B's with my sleep-laden eyes with smudged kohl lines and hair that was a tangled mess. Of course, B is no stranger to A, they have been friends for decades...but I..well...who cares. The plan was to crash at B's for a few hours until the sun came up and get a ride to Ratnagiri first thing in the morning.

But nothing was going according to our plans, as if a pair of invisible hands was directing our course that night,  So, we found ourselves crashing a wild, wild party instead. It was after all Saturday night baby! So what was left of the night was spent in mindless carousing. And we were treated to some delicious Kasha Mangsho (typical Bengali style slow cooked meat laced in a slightly caramelised gravy) and luchi (puffed, deep fried bread) which we relished at 5 in the morning, another first time for me. No not the luchi-mangsho, I have had those a million times, but never at 5 in the morning.

By 8 o clock, the party was still on mind you, we were on our way to Ratnagiri! My heart lurched a little at the thought that had things happened according to our plans  we would have been on the serene Ganesh gule beach by now, but then I said "what the hell, the road was our destination!"

WE MADE A ROAD TRIP OUT OF A MISSED TRAIN.

Soon we were on the Mumbai Goa highway flanked by the picturesque views of ghats. The previous night A had been saying time and again on our way from Pune to Panvel  that it was a pity I was missing the views the Ghats offered since we were travelling at night. But now the ghats were unfolding in all their glory all around me. Providence I tell you. Our driver insisted on playing romantic Bollywood numbers from the 90s, only and continuously, which occasionally lulled us to sleep, but between dozing off and jerking back to consciousness and clicking photographs mindlessly, it was a pretty great drive with Kumar Sanu providing the constant background score.



Our first stop was at a small roadside shack for a late breakfast. And we weren't thinking healthy. We picked up a few vada pav (spicy mashed potato croquettes between soft bread with a generous sprinkle of a garlicky spice mix and some fried green chilies) and a large portion of mixed vegetable fritters that came wrapped in the previous day's local newspaper. The piping hot greasy goodness might not have been the best thing for our stomach but they did wonders for our spirits. We were ready for the six hour drive ahead and looking forward to our next food stop.





It was around 2 in the afternoon when we reached Chiplun. We had been on the road for six hours having covered around 260 kilometers, and we were still a couple of hours from our destination. We wanted to make it to our destination in time for a sunset stroll on the beach and we were getting restless for our first glimpse of the Konkan coastline. Time was of essence. For now the time was right for lunch. We had passed by a few highway resorts and hotels where we could have dined at but we were looking for more rustic home-style Malvani food and wanted to eat where the locals ate. So we asked the locals. After several of them recommended it, we reluctantly settled for Hotel Abhishek Cafe.

I say reluctantly because Hotel Abhishek Cafe didn't look the part. I mean we were thinking roadside shacks or one of the Khanevars (home-diner), but this one was a regular mid-range restaurant with a neon-lit air conditioned section where we chose to sit to beat the heat. Only a few tables were occupied and it was lunch hour, another dampener really. This was our best deal in Chiplun? We crossed our fingers and asked for the menu card. It was brought and no it was not in English, the menu was written in Hindi and I have always found myself in a fix when it came to that script. Fortunately A reads Hindi and within minutes we had decided on the dishes - Bombil Fry for starters, a Surmai Vade (a local seafish) thali for me, a Tisrya (clams) thali for A and a side of Malvani Mutton Fry. The sole kadhi, I like to refer to it as soul curry, we were told was complimentary! We had made our choices but were not so sure yet. But we were in for a surprise, and a great one at that.

First served were glasses filled to the brim with soft pink goodness, Sol kadhi, a cooling appetiser I like to have with rice too, is made with coconut milk and kokum, typically spiced with from garlic and coriander leaves and tempered with curry leaves, cumin and asafoetida. The sol kadhi served to us was the spicier version with a distinct garlicky flavour. I, however, prefer a more subtle version of sol kadhi, not that I was complaining. If pink could be tasted, to me it would taste like sol kadhi, rather than strawberry frosting! I was happy with my glass.

Generously coated in typical Malvani spices, the fresh Bombil came with a crisp semolina crust to die for, Inside the fish was juicy and flaky.  I crunched into the fish, the crisp crust crumbled in my mouth unleashing a riot of flavours that was the soft, juicy fish, I could only gasp with pleasure. Between sips of the delicious sol kadhi and bites of the delicious Bombil fry, life seemed so good.

My thali comprised a huge piece of spicy, batter-fried Surmai fish, a surmai curry which came with a smaller piece of fish, a bowl of rasa (gravy), another bowl of sol kadhi, rice and Kombi vade. A's had a huge portion of spucy clam curry instead of the fish and chapatis instead of the vade. (There was a mix up though)

About the vade. Vade, almost a staple in West coast, is basically fluffy deep fried bread made from a dough comprising rice flour and ground lentils. The ones at Hotel Abhishek came with a hole in the centre, like doughnuts. Crusty and spicy the vade made for the perfect accompaniment for the rich spicy Malvani curries.

The Surmai or Indo-Pacific mackerel is officially on my favourites list. The fish is delightfully flavourful and requires minimum trimmings. So a no fuss batter fried seemed like the best way to relish my first piece of surmai. The curry made with dessicated coconut and a host of Malvani spices was equally and an absolute delight paired with piping hot steamed rice.

The mutton masala fry had mutton, bones et al,cut in small pieces and tossed in a rich melange of Malvani spices. I scooped up a chunk of gravy laced meat with a shred of the vade,  salivating profusely all the while, and the moment I popped that morsel of  deliciousness into my mouth I was transported to culinary heaven and I am not exaggerating, The crusty vade and the spicy meat were made for each other

 A chose to pass the vade and enjoyed the Mutton Masala Fry with rice. She said I couldn't miss that combination either. So I had another go at it this time with rice despite having stuffed myself so much already that I found it difficult to breathe. And after I was done polishing the last vestiges of what was a delightful meal, off my plate and draining the last drops of sol kadhi down my gullet, I sat their licking my fingers for several minutes, oblivious to the others dining at the restaurant, which by the way had not a table free now. The meal cost us 700 rupees approximately. We had done good but after that meal walking back to the car was an ordeal. I only hoped my tummy didn't act funny during the rest of the journey.



Soon we were back on the road and on our way to the magical Konkan coast....what happened next in my next post!

Spaghetti and Chicken : Fast fix meal

I am on a holiday and I have been having fun alright, but I have been missing the blog so. Finally I got access to the internet today and I thought I must post. I had wanted to post about my culinary adventures here at the Konkan coast but I am having trouble downloading photographs. So I thought I would share this recipe, a favourite,  that I meant to post earlier but hadn't managed to.

So, my brother loves pasta, I guess I have mentioned that before, and he often wants me to toss him up some. He is not too fond of cheese or cream and prefers a tomato sauce for his pasta. Mostly I make him the simplest version of the Arrabiatta, but sometimes when I am in the mood I make him this Chicken and spaghetti, I am so fond of. So is my brother, of course.

It is quite simple really,  chicken cooked in a rich tomatoes sauce into which I add spaghetti and some cheese. This dish takes inspiration from a very fond 'childhood' memory. I was 11, 12 at the most. My mother's aunt had just moved back to India from Canada, after 32 years, And one evening we went to pay them a visit at their Jodhpur Park residence. The woman my mother was referring to as her aunt was nothing like my mum's other aunts. First, she wasn't old, no grey hair you see. Besides, she wore trousers, all my other grand aunts wore saree only and exclusively. And she had an accent. But I loved her already since she brought me the most delightful presents from Canada, including a musical cap for my tooth brush, It was a tiny fairy with pink wings. Her younger son, my mother's cousin and supposedly my uncle (we take relations very seriously) was only 17  and was more like MY cousin. I was in awe of him, his ways, the way he spoke, joked, the entire package. And when he began to show me his collection of books and games I was bowled over, I was 11 mind you. Or 12.

The evening went by in a jiffy. The elders were busy talking, reminiscing, laughing and I was lost in my Canadian cousin's magical world. At 11 o clock, to my grand aunt's alarm, she realized she had forgotten to cook dinner. My parents did their best to dissipate the awkwardness, but Chhor Didu, as I was told to call her, refused to let us leave without eating. "30 minutes" she said was all she needed.

Unlike my parents, I really wanted to stay back for dinner, I had wondered all evening what they ate. Did they eat rice and fish and dal like us, at home, everyday? I was sure people ate fancier stuff in Canada. So when my parents reluctantly agreed to stay back for dinner I was over the moon, Chhor Didu got busy in the kitchen and I continued to play a game my cousin had taught me. But my mind was no longer there, I kept wondering what Chhor didu could whip up in 30 minutes. I tip toed to the kitchen a few times and watched her in silence trying to figure what it was that she was doing, but couldn't. There were several cans and packets were lying around,but I had no clue what they contained.

Dinner was actually ready in 30 minutes. Perhaps less than 30 minutes. Chhor Didu served up macaroni with chicken in tomato sauce. It was the first time I ate macaroni, in fact the first time I ate pasta of any kind. The food was a little bland for my parents so they drizzled tabasco sauce on it. But I was happy. The evening and the dish has been etched in my memory ever since.  Chhor Didu returned to Canada after her husband died of cancer, it was for him that they had decided to shift back. With him gone there was nothing left for her here, Her elder son was going to university in Canada and the younger son began to grow homesick. So she went back to stay with her sons. I miss her so much. We had grown very close over the years she spent in India. We speak at times over the telephone, but it's not the same. This dish is my tribute to those beautiful memories of togetherness.

Ingredients

Spaghetti - 1 pkt
Chicken - 750 g
Tomatoes - 4 medium (cut in large cubes)
Tomato puree - 1 cup
Minced Garlic - 1 tbsp
Cinnamon stick - 1 inch
Cloves - 2-3
Bay leaves - 2
Dried Oregano - 1 tsp
Dried Thyme - 1/2 tsp
Red wine - 100 ml
Chili flakes
Salt to taste
A pinch of sugar
Olive oil
Parmesan cheese (grated) - 1/2 cup

Method 

Heat olive oil in a pan. Saute the minced garlic for a couple of minutes. Add the tomato puree and cook for a couple of minutes on a medium high flame.

Add the cinnamon stick and the herbs. Few minutes later add the chicken pieces and cook on high flame until chicken is opaque.

De-glaze the pan with the red wine. Add salt, a pinch of sugar, chili flakes and cook covered until chicken is tender.

In the meantime cook the spaghetti to al dente in a pot of water to which you have added a few table spoons of salt and a drizzle of olive oil.

Once the chicken is cooked through remove cover, add the tomato cubes and cook until the sauce reduces. Remove the cinnamon stick, cloves and bay leaves and discard.

Now pick out the chicken pieces from the sauce and keep aside. Now add the pasta to the sauce and give it a good toss. If it seems a little too dry add a few ladles of the water you have boiled the pasta in.

Add half the Parmesan cheese, give it another good toss and remove from heat.

Serve the pasta topped with the chicken and sprinkle of Parmesan shavings.

An awesome dinner I tell you.