I recently wound up taking up lodgings in Panjim, a city that I’ve related to far more that my own hometown of Margao, and one which I’ve all but made my home for the last decade, barring having a bed of my own (though I shamefacedly admit to often having bummed one off of many friends who have been far too kind to turn me out on my ear). Now, this means that I wind up waking up in Panjim, and I am such a horrendous morning person that Scrooge on Christmas Eve is more likely to don a cheerful persona than I am when I crawl out of bed; whatever be the hour. The thing which makes mornings all the more loathsome for me, is breakfast. I hate breakfast. I cannot stomach (truly no pun intended) the thought of eating as soon as I’ve woken up to my greatest challenge: facing the day. However, one of life’s true ironies is that I love the offerings that breakfast encompasses. Rashers of bacon, prosciutto crudo, poached or fried eggs, sautéed tomatoes, caramelised onions, baked beans, pancakes, waffles, the list goes on; and if they all find their way on to one plate, it can’t possibly get any better than that. My biggest problem is that I really can’t see myself eating any (let alone all) of that in the morning. In fact, I think that the best time for that meal is probably 7 pm, while watching a movie in one’s pyjamas; which is why I love the concept of ‘breakfast all day’. The problem is that while many shacks along the extreme ends of the state cater to the concept, not many along the mainland do, or so I thought. One of my preferred parts of the city has always been its Latin Quarter, which is distributed into an assortment of little pockets. Of these, I lean towards the hamlets of São Tomé and Fontainhas, only because of the fact that by and large, their inhabitants seem to remain the same for eons, and those that change always seem to have something new to contribute, and in the best way possible. This particular piece is dedicated precisely to one of those ‘newer inhabitants’. Caravela Café and Bistro is a little space that serves as a B&B on Rua 31 de Janeiro along the aforementioned Latin Quarter. Run by Carlos Noronha, the third of his line with the same name, the space focuses more on the bed aspect of things than the breakfast. However, I now have a bed to call my own, in the capital, and hence focus more on the other ‘b’ in the equation. Carlos and I incidentally share blood, which is apparently thicker than water, but that bond is not nearly as strong as the Americano he brews, which can rouse even the snarkiest of grumps. For everyone who cried when Barista shut down in the capital, fear not, Carlos uses Lavazza coffee, which is what everyone loved about Barista to begin with. Now, returning to my point about said breakfast, Caravela Café and Bistro is one of the few places in the capital that serves breakfast at 7…pm…which, for me, makes it perfect. I love the fact that I can saunter out of office, post work, and have a good old fashioned ‘brekkie’, in my favourite part of the city. If you’re really lucky, one a good day, Carlos’ other (and admittedly better) half, Kay, will join you at your table and proceed to berate Carlos on his signature ‘stolidity’, which makes for fantastic entertainment. Why? Because (and for me it literally is) it’s like dining with family, and encompasses that vibe. Carlos has a menu that boasts of so much more, but it isn’t just the food at Caravela Café and Bistro that delivers all that one wants from a place in that part of town; it’s the old world charm, the feeling of being in the Goa that history earmarked, the feeling of having been transported to a time before the casinos and the drugs and the raves ruined it all. If that is what you seek, then this is a place that can deliver, and should be on your list.
