The man who delivered joy and happiness to all in Loutolim , will take his most cherished creation to heaven. A creation which should put him in an eternal hall of fame of culinary masters, who married the taste of fresh beef with the tastiness of a crisp samosa, deeply fried and served them to legions of people in Loutolim, Raia and Margao.
By the time he left us, on Friday, after ailing for over
three years, his samosas became synonymous with his name, without any branding
exercise, promotion or PR. The aroma wafted across the river Zuari and the wind
took it to far corners of our land, word of his samosas, reaching the recesses
of Pernem and Canacona. And when it reached those places, they were etched in
people’s minds as ‘Menino’s samosas’ and many journeys to Salcette weren’t
complete till a parcel of samosas was bought in Loutolim and taken home
Loutolim has indeed, and deservedly basked in the
greatness of Emiliano Da Cruz and Mario de Miranda. But as the village mourns
the passing of his son Menino, this Sunday afternoon, it wouldn’t be out of
place to conjure that while Mario whipped up earthy day to day humour, Emiliano
produced soulful music and delivered mirth, and Menino curated, created and
produced the best snack, Loutolim, arguably Sacette, arguably Goa, produced.
Music, artistic humour and comfort snacking, the troika of Loutolim’s sons,
served them to us.
Menino’s passing should ideally be the first opportunity
to recognize the art of achieving greatness by a simple homegrown idea of
putting minced beef in a samosa preparation of flour, salt oil, after kneading
dough and frying it deep. A “Menino’s beef samosas’ trade mark perhaps, or even
a GI status that would protect this creation from any culinary plagiarism.
At first bite, a crispy outside would break with smoke
bursting through the pores. Soon the onions mixed with fresh beef would meet
your finest culinary senses on the tip of a salivating tongue. He reserved the
best for Sundays, hoping that his homegrown production line of manual labour
would make enough samosas for the mass goers. With his shop strategically
placed right next to the side entrance of the church on the road that goes from
the village to the Ponda- Margao highway, the popular Menino could not create
enough to serve beyond two rounds of mass goers. Every samosa he fried, was
bought and eaten in lightning speed and if you went after 11 am, you would see
a very contented Menino but no “Menino’s beef samosas’
Let’s meet the creator of this samosa masterpiece, who
has now gone to meet our creator, a little too soon. Born on October 15, 1956,
Menino Antonio Fernandes began his professional life at the Arlem beer
factory. Soon he left to join as a sailor on the barges that sailed the rivers
in Goa, carrying cargo mainly ore. However, when he decided to not work for
anyone and start a small business of his own in his village, his wife of 35
years Tereza gave him quiet support. His “gada’, (stall) which then became a
small shop of sorts, became a pit stop even for those who did not eat his
ssmosas but hung in there to chat, exchange news about their world at large
including little morsels of breaking news across the eclectic waddos of
Loutolim. Menino himself was from Kharabhat, the ward which gave Menino to
Loutolim and to Goa and the world.
For yours truly, Menino and his samosas, were the first
introduction to Loutilim and perhaps even to the village life of Goa in 2004.
Every Loutolim story had Menino in it, or even if the story didn’t center
around him, it was narrated or emanated in the vicinity of his gada. For
reporters looking for the mood in the village stories, especially during the
elections, this was a news center. Ask Joaquim Gracias, the resident scribe of
Loutolim, its evergreen minstrel and a permanent fixture at Menino’s shop and
he will readily acknowledge the role this spot has played in the profession
that he loves.
For three and a half years now, Menino has been
literally bed- ridden but happy that his son Mathew took over the art and the
business and run it so effectively that Menino’s absence was not noticed in the
quality of his samosas. But his smiling genteel presence was sorely missed and
now, he is forever gone.
But his legacy will live, as Mathew has ensured, a proud
son, carrying on the work of his simple father, who created a simple
masterpiece.
They will surely be serving Menino's samosas in heaven for breakfast this morning