Just
sit here right now, Don’t do a thing, Just rest…Let me bring you trays of
food and something that you would like to drink,.. You can use my soft hands as
cushion for your head
– Hafiz, Persian Poet
A Persian poet’s verse on the menu card in a bistro run by a
woman of the world, who was drawn to India by the ultimate man of the world,
Osho Rajneesh, isn’t out of place. And little sign boards on the white-washed
walls of the Villa Blanche, in Assagao, with street names in German, are one of
the mainly quaint out of the box pop ups, in the tropical garden of the
restored Portuguese house, where Yogini lives for a little over half the year,
each year. She is the priestess, hostess, buddy, loving mama, foodie chef and
her creation -Villa Blanche-is the melting pot of the quirky, eccentric and
eclectic.
Once upon a time, Yogini, who grew up in a German village
bordering France and Luxemburg, and crossed over to these countries regularly
“to have snails” among other things, was called Elizabeth. Chatting with me and
the semi local-genteel writer and academic, Sanjoy Hazarika, one afternoon last
week, Yogini speaks of how much Assagao reminds her of her little German
village, of leafy lanes and comfort zones. Villa Blanche is all of that. It was
never meant to be a bistro with a stand-out menu curated with freshness and
subtle flavours. It’s is actually her home. Yogini lives here and her kitchen
is where she cooks for herself and for us.
Which is why it takes time to figure where Villa Blanche is
when you go there for the first time, as you would when you went to a friend’s
home in a tucked away village. With meandering roads, hugging fields and palm
trees making a canopy, cradling your journey, leave it to your Google pin and
your GPS to sort you out, but suffice to say that if you are coming from Arpora
towards Anjuna, cross the big petrol pump (not the old Anjuna pump), turn
right, take the main road to Assagao and turn left a little ahead, and then wind
your way into the village and towards Villa Blanche. But do not stress, as
Yogini’s menu says. Do your foreplay with nature as you drive to Villa Blanche.
In the leafy courtyard, small artefacts and mementos tell
you that this is indeed a world place. You could be anywhere. Folks spending
the afternoon working, still others longing, and Sanjoy and me, catching up to
speak about town and country, and press freedom and the fight against it. We
spoke of books and authors and the unspoken solidarity among sensitive writers
pained at an India becoming devoid of sensitivity. Journalist, writer,
researcher, peace activist, Sanjoy Hazarika, has been one of India’s most
authoritative voices on the North East and he now brings years of reporting on
conflict, migration, ethnic issues, peace and diplomacy to the high table of
serious discussion. A Founder Director, Centre for North East Studies and
Policy Research, Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi, Hazarika – as mentioned
earlier in an earlier column – heads the Commonwealth Human Rights Initiative’s
India operations and his long list of engagement and interventions includes a
very critical one of defending the rights of journalists in conflict with
hostile regimes and governments.
The leafy courtyard of Villa Blanche, with street signs like
Schmidtftr or Udele Platz or Frieheitstr, where we lunched over German beer and
beef meat balls was far removed from the strife-ridden regions of the world
where Sanjoy has in the past, and still does work. But Goa is his getaway to meet
his daughter and son in-law who live in Assagao, a minute away from Villa
Blanche. Goa, to many others like him, is where they come to soak in their
experiences and thoughts, and in the quiet of the villages, put them all
together.
Villa Blanche, like so many enchanting spots in and around
this village, like Cocos which has terrific Thai food, or Vinayak’s, easily the
best Goan ‘dhaba’ in the area (more about them in the coming weeks) adds to the
happiness quotient of this universe.
Villa Blanche gets you the continent on your plate for sure.
All of Yogini’s, German, French, Spanish, Italian and other assorted influences
at work here. The aforementioned Beef Meat Balls (which are more like a big
soft meat cake and not like koftas) comes with mustard, homemade tomato chilli
jam and German potato salad. Of the fish offerings, the two that need to be
noticed and wooed are fish fillet made the Sicilian way, cooked in white wine,
cherry tomatoes, raisins and pine nuts, and red snapper in mustard. And since life
needs to start well, ordering a mushroom, walnut and camembert cheese quiche,
with your drink, does just that.
So Yogini, or Elizabeth, will spend yet another winter in
her Assagao home. And what do you call her – a local, an outsider, a foreigner?
In the quiet lanes of Socol Vaddo in Assagao and at Villa Blanche, her home,
where her heart it, does it matter? The utter irrelevance of these terms or
questions not just show up, but also get buried in the joys of her food and the
space for conversation and rejuvenation she offers.
And all you need to do, in the words of poet Hafiz, is, “..
don’t do a thing, just rest”.
