In the early mornings, on palm laden streetsides, before the sun is up, andwhen the mist is now gone, there is an all pervasive aroma of cashew which fills the olfactory senses of true lovers of the Goan spirit. As the first distillation of cashew happens, life begins with new hope and vitality. This is the real “season”, the beginning of yet another year of reliving life with its basics. In the beginning of April, the narrative of food and drink- the latter really, changes to the hunt for good urrack, feni’s first form. Even non drinkers who dismiss the most honourable liquid that any fruit has ever produced as “smelly” join the chats. From upscale bars, to downscale tavernas, from fields,
to tinto’s, the discussion is about procuring the
best stock of urrack to last the next three to four
months before the next stock of feni arrives. But
if feni is fine scotch, urrack is a rare single malt
but unlike the single runs that make single malt
–well- single- urrack runs all over, especially in
the veins of its loyalists.
Goa being Goa, this elixir hasn’t been branded,
marketed or even hyped like the malts of the
Scottish highlands. If Scotland has a Speyside,
home to more than half of its malt distilleries and a
Cooperage, Goa’s Valpoi, Bicolim, Sanguem, parts
of Raia and many other villages, have home-grown
distilleries, in the middle of village fields, which
do a commendable job of great national interestproduce
fresh urrack.
Much of yours truly’s indoctrination into the
spirit of Goa, its people, cultures and life,-a journey
which began more than a decade ago has – in the
early days, has revolved around my feni friends.
From places like Cavala, in Baga which still does
flavoured and spiced feni and has the best fresh
urrack of the season (a stock which gets rapidly
depleted when folks like us descend there as we did
this week), to Chandor, Loutolim and Valpoi.
The journeys in search of urrack and feni with
friends are as intoxicating as pouring it from the
garrafão, into a glass full of ice, adding a dash of
lime and lemon juice and dipping a slit chilli into
the mixture for exactly six seconds before drinking.
One of the first such journeys was to the home of
Professor Zezito Gomes in Chandor. Professor, who
has since then left Goa to teach in a residential
school, drank only feni and its poorer sibling
urrack, all his life. For him, the world consisted
of two kinds of people- those who do not drink
feni and thus do not matter, and those who do,
who are normal and should be doing so anyway.
The whole day was spent at his little cottage on
one the by-lanes of one of Goa’s most gorgeous
villages with gallons of cashew feni and fish curry
and rice, prawns and choris pao which continued
to be served from the time of arrival, till the time
of departure, a good seven hours away. Professor
kept a garraffão of 25 litres of urrack filled in the
beginning of the season and drink its last drops for
months later, to be replaced by feni which used to
last a little longer.
Another feni fan is Glorio Vaz of Loutolim with
whom I made one of my early journeys to a family
in Devotte, which makes both urrack and feni.
That was when Loutolim wasn’t quite the home in
a way it is now and the waddos were still unkown
and strange. The drive through the woody Devotte
into a further stretch of jungle brought us to a
clearing. The air was sticky. What else would it be,
enveloped with cashew trees? We saw a march of
the faithful, trudging up through the woods to the
same clearing and realised it was a special place- a
local feni distillery. The man distilling it was fast
asleep, mouth ajar, eyes shut, his countenance
a sea of bliss having consumed most of what he
distilled. While the world goes to pleasure havens in
several cities, this fellows haven was his home and
hearth and the rudimentary contraption that got his
favorite juice out. Anyway, to cut a long story short,
we managed to wake him from his state of divinity
to give us a few litres of his feni. So did the others
who had marched.
Up north, Shyam Achrekar’s feni farm, ‘Rustic’
in Valpoi was always a home for our feni picnics.
In his home and orchard, we were truly educated
and were armed with the knowledge of the complex
and the tedious process of planting, growing and
nurturing cashew trees to ultimately give us our
favourite drink.
Even now there are foot soldiers- true heroes
who are keeping this drink alive, Cedric of
Madame Rosa who makes Fenitos (Mojitos
with feni), in the Panjim garden each Sunday
and Donovan Vaz of Firefly, Benaulim who does
wicked feni concoctions. We love and pray for
their good health and spirits because they and
countless unnamed others, serve the essence of
Goa in every drop.
