VINDALOO, PIL PIL AND THE BATTLE OF LOUTOLIM

Last week’s wish lists became this week’s
realities. Or at least one of them. On a mid week afternoon the troika of the
sun, sea, football and fi sh (or some form of it) converged at the Flying
Dolphin shack, on one the most scenic stretches of Candolim (or what still
remains of it).With minimal tourists, the beach stretch was devoid of human
beings or animals with just the sand and the sea. Left to themselves they are
as beautiful as in any other part of the word.Over yonder was a vast stretch of
blue, with several boats bobbing in the middle, in the embrace of the sandy
shore stretching from Candolim to Baga in a big arch. Lest we forget, the high
sea has not changed much from the sixties, perhaps since it hasn’t had the
company of the grime, fi lth and the construction on the shore. Sitting on a
large deck bed on the upper fl oor of Flying Dolphin, the innocence of the
Ocean lay in its bountiful expanse. Could football be left behind? Fluttering
on the edge of the fl oor at Flying Dolphin was the fl ag of FC Goa. There it
was. In one wide frame – there was the fl ag the sea and the boats. Goa in a
perfect frame.

 The
spicy but very soft and well made pork vindloo arrived and went. This was
preceded by prawns pil pil cooked in an ocean of garlic and butter with plenty
of pao to soak it all up in. Called Gambas – al Pil-pil in Spanish, it’s best
cooked in a terracotta cazuela dish, with white wine and parsely. You can
either have it as tapas – small bites with shrimps – or turn this into a full
meal with bigger prawns. While the Flying Dolphin version did have a lot of
good olive oil, its best to let the prawns, garlic and chillies to extract
their own sauces and fl avours which can dominate the sauce, rather than the
olive oil. At times a splash of brandy may be added but do step back since it
will really sizzle.

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The vindaloo, surprisingly is the fi rst Goa
dish which is rattled off by those visiting Goa but very few places actually do
the authentic one which originates way back to the Portuguese times. Flying Dolphin
makes it perfectly with the addition of chilli peppers and if you specially
tell them, then potatoes come too. The pork was cut really fi ne and had an
excellent texture and softness which soaked in the spices perfectly. Voila.

While fi ne dining in Goa is as good as most
places in the world and is certainly one of the best places to eat out in the
country, the Goan dishes or those which have the continental infl uence are
best made in some select homes and villages – Loutolim for instance. And this isn’t
out of a deep set bias but a very serious intellectual pursuit, with the
intellect residing in the olfactory nerves which bring you the aromas
perfectly. Food has to smell good to taste good. And the journey will continue.

 Postscript: While this isn’t about food it’s
about Loutolim, the home of awesome food and where the village gets together
for its various little battles with man or animal. At the crack of dawn on
Saturday, the bugle of a bloody war was sounded by the forward team of dogs in
the household who went completely berserk at the unexpected and not so pleasant
visit of an alien dog Even hell hath less fury than a Loutolim dog disturbed at
dawn. A massive fi ght ensued with the visitor dog managing to get a piece of
the home dogs. Things soon turned ugly with the visitor dog who appeared rabid
– attacking other ones in the village. Soon war was declared and the village
converged, some half asleep, brandishing various weapons of mass destruction,
as they moved in various formats to check what’s was going on. Virtually the
whole waddo turned up near the village spring- except Pinky, the bull who slept
in late and Albertina, the dog from the next lane, who was probably hangover
and chose to take no further part in this commotion. Many who arrived the
village spring to do battle, had no idea what the battle was all about. But
since leopards have been dropping in with the regularity of a bored village
aunt looking for a boy to pack off her niece with, many of Loutolim’s warriors
arrived thinking that there was a leopard to take on. Brave hearts all. But as
many stories in Loutolim, this one too ended with no one quite knowing how it
did or what the issue was in the fi rst place. But suffi ce to say, it
dominated the headlines in the non-existent Loutolim Times. By evening all was
quiet.

 And
all is well. As long as there’s food like the ones consumed at Flying Dolphin
and those made in places like Loutolim, and village life with its usual
commotion exists, no builder lobby or outsiders can take over Goa.

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