River Ferries and Mango Trees

There are experiences, and then there are experiences. Like traveling through Europe as a student. Like going to Morocco on a hastily made plan (visa rejection notwithstanding). Like trekking through an unbelievable Himalayan landscape to get to Roopkund! And then there is this.

First some background. My family belongs to Goa, both mom and dad. Usually that makes people go "Wow, that's awesome! Do you have a house there?” Unfortunately my ties to Goa are more tenuous than that. My grandparents moved to Bombay in the 1950s. In fact my mother was born and raised in Bombay. As a consequence I have no immediate family in Goa. In fact, the closest relatives there are mom's cousins and dad's. Which is why my trips to Goa are like those of any other tourist. Is there an ancestral village house to go to? Well on dad's side, it no longer exists, everything has been sold off long back. On mom's side though, the story is a bit different, and that's where it gets interesting.

Premanand Mahambare is my mother's cousin. My mother's father and his father were brothers. He lives on Chorao Island in North Goa which is mom's ancestral village. He and his wife were teachers at Dayanand High School on the island, where he was also the principal. In addition, he was also the Sarpanch of his village panchayat for 15 years. The interesting bit is that he continued to cultivate the ancestral land through all this. The rice fields were too much work so they were converted into a coconut grove more than 20 years back. But horticulture continued and in addition to the existing mango and cashew trees, Premanand mama planted several different fruit and vegetable trees over the years and made sure the orchard did not fall into decay.

A milestone was reached in early 2008 when a group of farmers on the island approached mama with the idea of forming a farmers' club to improve profitability of their agricultural activities and to have better access to government schemes. The project was called 'Chorao-Madel Farmers' Club' and was started with the support of NABARD, Central Bank of India and TERI. The first product to be sold through the club was milled red kernel rice cultivated organically by farmers on the island. It was made available at several supermarkets in North Goa under the 'Chorao Island Farmers' Club' brand. The response was phenomenal and the rice continues to be produced and marketed till date. Next came Goa's favorite variety of mangoes - the Mancurad. Chorao is famous for growing these and mama has several trees in his own orchard. In the 2010 mango season, Mancurad mangoes harvested on the island were marketed by the club under the brand 'Aamcho Chorao Mancurad' ('Aamcho' means our/ours in Konkani and the pun is obviously intended). The success of this product came as no surprise - Mancurad mangoes are very popular in Goa - and the profitability of direct marketing was a revelation. The 'Aamcho Chorao Mancurad' brand today is the flagship of the Chorao-Madel farmers club.

More products were marketed as time went by, and with the help of the supporting agencies, new techniques of organic farming were introduced to the island's farmers. The club went from strength to strength and its success was rewarded in 2010 when NABARD recognized it as 'Goa's Best Farmers' Club' for 2009-2010. Recognition of success came from beyond Goa as well with mama bagging an award from the Ministry of Agriculture in New Delhi in 2010 for his efforts with the club! He was also featured in a coffee table book published by the ministry called 'Harvest of Hope'.

I had been to Chorao a few times before, but never during the mango season. I had also never stayed there. So, while I knew how awesome the place was and how gorgeous it looked, I had never quite had the experience of a summer harvest. The time when you can pick mangoes off the trees to eat, the time when the jackfruit and cashew trees also bear fruit. So, after years of hearing about mama's exploits and even reading about it online, this summer was when I finally decided to do this. Spend three days in the ancestral village picking mangoes, roam in the orchard and generally have an awesome time.

So on a hot May afternoon, I finally got off a taxi from Goa airport at Ribandar and met Premanand Mahambare at the jetty. Chorao is an island in the Mandovi river and to get to it, one has to take the ferry. It can also be reached by road but that's a much longer route. As you approach the island, the sight of dense mangroves greets you. That's the 'Salim Ali Bird Sanctuary'. It gets a lot of migratory birds in the winter and morning boat tours are quite popular with birdwatchers! After the ferry ride, it's a 15 minute drive and we reached just in time for lunch. Smita Mahambare (my mami) is a very good cook and I ate my fill. Before I could get off the table, a plate with 4 mangoes was put in front of me. I looked at my cousins who were already smiling, then at mami. And she says, "You came to eat mangoes rite?" The plate looked like a challenge at first, but not when I dug in. These Mancurads can send any Alphonso packing! This is what they looked like.

In the evening, it was time to go pick some mangoes. This is what I came here to do after all. So me, mama and my cousin Ankita set off with these improvised contraptions. They are long bamboo poles with baskets (similar to basketball baskets) attached at the end. The orchard is pretty big and in addition to the Mancurad, there are other varieties of mango and a very long list of other trees. Let me try to summarize all that is grown on the property. I will probably leave something out, but here goes.

- Jackfruit
- Cashew
- Jamuns (don't know what they're called in English)
- Guava
- Coconut
- Breadfruit
- Lemon
- Starfruit
- Tamarind
- Kokum (that's what is used to make the Goan solkadi)
- Pepper
- Pineapple
- Banana

Picking the mangoes was fun, but it does get tiring hauling that tool after a while. Here is me doing it.

Some of the trees in the orchard are very old. One in particular stands out for being the largest and oldest on the property. It is said that when my grandfather and his brothers were growing up here, the tree was as big as it is now, which means its approximate age is 150! It has a fallen branch and still produces huge quantities of mango every year. Here's me and my cousin Ankita with 'Big Daddy'.

After an hour's work in the orchard, here is what we managed. Mouth-watering?

The reason why these are so good is that cultivation is as organic as possible. While some fertilizer is definitely used, no artificial insecticide is sprayed on the fruit. Instead, pheromone traps are used to get rid of the fruit flies. No other bullshit like ripening agent or coloring agent is used either. The ripening process is totally natural. So none of the artificial/chemical taste one gets from mangoes bought in city markets these days.

The mangoes, once picked, are stored in the attic on the top floor of the house, and once ripe enough, are packed in boxes bearing the farmers' club brand name and shipped off for sale.

The evening was spent in the open space at the back of the house, devouring some of the 'harvest'. In addition to the mangoes, we had also picked some cashews and one of the locals helped bring down a couple of jackfruits (these are heavy and it's quite a task).

Let me stop here for some well-deserved praise for the quality of the produce. Chorao is, even in this day and age, a fairly isolated location. Being an island, it has remained protected, not from every development (there are all the comforts of banks, ATMs, electricity, paved roads and even internet) but from industrialization and heavy vehicular traffic at least. That has kept pollution of the air, water and soil away. Add to this the years of hard work that people like Premanand mama and other farmers on the island have put in and the organic farming techniques. No surprise then, that every piece of fruit that I dug into was fit for a regal dining table.

The next day saw some guests from the other side of mama's family and they are very fond of what we call jamuns (not sure what the English word is for that). So off we went into the orchard again. The jamuns are picked in a different way. The trees are pretty tall and the fruits grow high up in the branches. A long bamboo pole with a hook is latched to a branch and you then give it a vigorous shake. And then it just rains jamuns!! Picking the fallen jamuns from the ground is less than fun, with the red ants crawling on one's hands and feet. But when this is what you've got to show for it, who's complaining?

Over the next two days, I basically struggled to keep track of how much of the produce from the orchard ended up in my plate and in what form. The breadfruit from the tree outside the balcony was used to make chips that were served at lunch. The seeds from the jackfruit we devoured appeared in a curry. Juice from the cashew fruit called 'neera' (this is later fermented and distilled to get feni) came in a big bottle one evening. And the list goes on.

Three days are not enough to be able to fully absorb all the sights and sounds and tastes of a place like this. I tried to experience as much of it as I could. And I have splendid memories and a really awesome Instagram album to show for it. Not to mention the box of Mancurad mangoes that I brought back and am still enjoying!

This post would not be complete without thanking the people who made this trip memorable by being such great hosts. Mama and his family made this an unforgettable experience and it's all down to their enthusiasm - in the middle of entertaining several other guests and right in the middle of mango season and all the business of it. Here they are!

Clockwise from top left - Premanand Mahambare (uncle), Aditi Prabhu (cousin), Pramila Mahambare (grand aunt), Smita Mahambare (aunt), Ankita Mahambare (cousin) and yours truly.

Thank you so much!!

p.s. For more information on the farmers' club and to order their mangoes (they deliver only within Goa), visit http://www.thechoraofarmers.com

Anything for a good meal

No surprises in the title there. My well documented 'journeys' in search of good stuff to eat - crossing the length of Italy for a Pizza, a trip to Delhi just for the food - have already established it. However, there has been another instance of going to great - some would say unreasonable - lengths to get what promised to be a great lunch, and it hasn't been put on this blog yet.

So, in March last year, a colleague came up with the idea of going to Kuala Lumpur for the Malaysian grand prix. It was a last minute plan but apparently there were great package deals (flight tickets + F1 tickets + accomodation) on offer. Now, I'm not a big F1 fan, and there's an Indian Grand Prix now as well. But when I heard Kuala Lumpur, reason promptly made way for temptation. It was gonna be 3 days in KL and my thoughts went straight to - not surprisingly -  all that I could eat there. So I was game and we convinced another colleague to come along. The plan was on.

The first season of No Reservations had an episode in Malaysia in which Anthony Bourdain spends a few days in KL before heading off to Borneo. A hawker centre, Torpedo Soup (won't elaborate, check it online) at a Mamak stall and Steamed Fish Head at a hole-in-the-wall Chinese joint in KL's industrial neighbourhood is what was covered. I wanted to try all of these things and more - and I did - but the Steamed Fish Head is what caught my attention the most. A hole in the wall in the back of beyond, that serves an exotic speciality to regulars, most of whom belong to the local Chinese community? You can't go too wrong with that.

The first day in KL turned out to be quite hectic. Window shopping in Bukit Bintang, dragging my colleagues for a kilometre to eat Vietnamese, and partying the night away at Asian Heritage Row. The fish head would have to wait till tomorrow.

Waking up with a hangover did not help. Moreover, my colleagues were smart and slipped out to go shop at Mid Valley Megamall....there goes the iPhone with the GPS. Thankfully I had a Google map printout of the locality. By the time I took a shower and was ready to go, it was already past noon. The fact that this place is located in what I would call 'The Mira Road of Kuala Lumpur' also did not help. But mass transit came to the rescue and it was one monorail and one LRT ride before I reached the station at Chan Sow Lin. And this is where the fun part begins.

The map was not what I would call self explanatory and the road outside the station was near-deserted. So on the road parallel to the LRT line, I started walking in hopes of soon finding someone, who would help with directions. That took more time than I thought it would, and when I finally reached a bus stop, the few people there either did not speak much English or had no idea where this goddamn 'Fish Head Stall' was. Worse still, I couldn't locate any of the diagonal roads or bylanes from the map after 15 mins of walking in the oppressive KL heat (and humidity). I finally found a guy in a car repair shop who spoke enough English and said he thought I had walked in the wrong direction from the station - Wow!!

So what basically lay ahead was a 10 minute walk back to the staion, and 10-15 minutes in the other direction, not knowing for sure if I would find the place. Well, "so be it" I said and started marching. Thankfully, post Chan Sow Lin station, I began to realize that the car repair guy was right after all. I had walked in the opposite direction initially coz now, the road signs started matching with the map. Finally, almost 30 minutes after I got off the LRT, I finally turned into the lane off the main street that led to my destination.

 But the fun does not stop here. This was a grid of bylanes and the fish head stall was on the peculiarly named Jalan 2/89 C. Asking for this location in an industrial hell-hole full of welding shops where everyone seemed to be Chinese?? After a few attempts at pointing on the map and sign language, I gave up. Couldn't really turn back after all this effort, so i kept walking and finally found a sign that said 'Jalan 2/89 C'. Bless the KL authorities that put signboards for the smallest of bylanes! I turned into the lane and there it was.

In addition to the steamed fish head, I wanted to try the Stewed Chicken Feet as well. But when I asked for it, "Ovaa!!" is the response I got. So i settled for the Boiled Choy Sum Vegetables with Oyster Sauce and of course the fish head. The fish head comes in two varieties, the lighter ginger garlic sauce or the darker soy and oyster sauce. I picked the latter with a bowl of sticky rice.

The vegetable thing was quite bland and I could only gulp a few morsels while waiting impatiently for the fish.

The Steamed Fish Head however, was another story. A giant carp head (more than the head actually) steamed and drenched in soy and oyster sauce combination along with ginger, garlic and bird's eye chillies. And it looked like this.

It was more like the upper half of a gigantic carp. But it was really good. And I was really hungry. It went really well with the sticky rice. There was coke to wash it down. Yes, I finished the whole damn thing, and loved every bit of it. Finishing off the last bit of that salty/pungent sauce and scraping the leftover flesh off the skeletal remains of the carp was a pleasure that reminded me of Sunday lunches at Grandma's and the effort it took to get to Chong Yen Steamed Fish Head Stall was all but forgotten.

Dragging myself back to Chan Sow Lin station was less than fun, given the overeating and the heat and humidity. All I could do after I got back to the hotel was hit the sack.

Moral of the Story - If a place makes you work hard to get there, it's almost always worth it!.
If you ever find yourself in KL, check the place out.

Chong Yen Steamed Fish Head Food Stall
No. 22-24, Jalan 2/89C
Off Jalan Chan Sow Lin 4
55200 Kuala Lumpur

Plan ke Mutabik

The Himalayas have managed to find a permanent place in my heart and mind in the last two years. I have done two treks in the Garhwal Himalayas - The Valley of Flowers trek in July 2010 and Roopkund in September this year. These Himalayan odysseys have ensured that Uttarakhand and it's hills always remain at the back of my mind and that I return periodically. Even when a trek is not possible and I have only a few days to spare on a trip up north, I always try to fit Rishikesh and some nearby Shiva temple in the itinerary.

While the landscape, trekking opportunities and the associated folklore of Garhwal and Kumaon are unmatched, the same cannot be said about the food of the region. While I have never been disappointed with what I have eaten here - the dhabas are as good as anywhere else - the food tends to be the very simple and home-cooked type. Specialities that draw you to other parts of the country - like the Lucknowi kebabs or the Rajasthani Laal Maas - are not to be found here. Or at least I am yet to find one. No wonder then that the state of Uttarakhand has not been featured on this blog so far, despite my repeated visits/sojourns/excursions.

This year's trek to Roopkund was no exception. While the cook on the trek did an excellent job - he even made gulab jamuns in a trekkers hut at at altitude of almost 4000m!! - there was no food experience I could really blog about. There was one sight however, that set my mind racing and led to the 'plan' in the title. It's a peculiar one, I must admit and I don't know if anyone has ever thought of it or done it before. But if I manage to pull it off, it will be quite a coup.

Of the many and varied picture-perfect sights that the Himalayas have to offer, the Bugyal is one of particular touristic interest. Bugyals are vast alpine meadows located at altitudes greater than 3000 meters in Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh, where they are more commonly known as 'Thatch'. Bugyals are popular as camping sites during treks, but some are so picturesque that they end up being trekking destinations in themselves.

There are two such Bugyals on the Roopkund trekking route - the more picturesque Ali Bugyal and the more culturally significant Bedni Bugyal. Apart from being camping sites, they are also important pastures and are used for grazing sheep and cattle by the local shepherds. While passing through these meadows, you are sure to come across large flocks of sheep guarded by shepherd dogs. And this is where the idea hit me!

While I have been eating mutton since childhood at home and in restaurants and have also written about it on this blog, how much of it has been organic? The meat we eat in the city, probably comes from an animal raised in filthy conditions in some tiny enclosure it shares with tens of its kind. What they feed it you probably don't wanna know! Now compare that to the sheep grazing here in Ali/Bedni Bugyal. They lead far happier lives in a pollution-free part of the world, eat what is probably the best grass there is to find in unbelievably beautiful high-altitude meadows. Can you imagine what their meat will taste like? Maybe this picture will add weight to what I'm saying.

You know what? have a closer look!!

Now that I have made my point loud and clear, here's the plan. The shepherds take their flocks grazing in the meadows during the May to September season and spend the rest of the year in the villages at lower altitudes. So here is what we do.

Find a shepherd in Lohajang (base for the Roopkund trek) and strike a deal to buy one of his sheep.
Find a butcher to slaughter the sheep and do the gutting and initial preparation.
Book a suitable cottage in Almora with working kitchen and supplies.
Get the meat back from Lohajang and start cooking!! Kebabs, Raan, Mutton curry, Bheja Masala, Kaleji fry, Biryani...the works!! Even with a small sheep and a large group, it's three to four days of fabulous eating.

Sounds like a plan doesn't it? So, who's in?

Arigato Gozaimasu!!

Japanese restaurants in India rarely go beyond the usual Sushi and the Teppanyaki counter.The few that do cost a bomb. This did not bother me much, till exposure to travel television brought with it greater knowledge of Japanese cuisine. The Yatai stalls of Fukuoka grilling Yakitori skewers, the Ramen alley of Sapporo, and the precision of Soba cooks jumped out of the telly and went straight for my belly. Needless to say, Japanese cuisine was the next object of my wasteful use of high-speed internet at the workplace.

One aspect of the Japanese food scene that particularly caught my attention was the Izakaya. These are places where the Japanese get together for after-work drinks and they also serve some great food, mostly grilled stuff like Yakitori and Gyoza. A google search on the word 'Izakaya' threw up a surprise result. A Japanese restaurant in Delhi apparently went by the name. The website was still under construction, so on it was to 'burrp' and 'zomato'. The reviews were great and the place seemed authentic enough without being a rip-off a la Wasabi.

Trips to Delhi keep happening for some reason or the other - weddings, stopovers on trips to the north or just to eat (yes, that too has happened). Well, there are no prizes for guessing what I went to Delhi for in the last week of October 2011. And no, it wasn't the first Indian Grand Prix. It was the other thing, and that's all there is to say about that. Anyway, the day after the 'fiasco', it was time to salvage the trip with some (hopefully) great Japanese food. That plan almost got canned, thanks to an unusually long time spent at a spa (not me) and getting lost (twice) on the way to Vasant Kunj (again, not me).

3.30 pm is usually past closing time for most restaurants, but Izakaya was cool enough to make an exception for us. For that and the 'Irasshaimase' that greeted us at the entrance, I was already liking the place. The red and black interiors have a part-tradtional Japanese and part-conventional seating and the well stocked bar is also quite visible. I generally don't like restaurants in malls and thankfully, the decor at Izakaya does its best to take the being-in-a-mall feeling away.

Yakitori is what I wanted to start with and unlike other places which just served grilled chicken cubes dipped in tare sauce, at Izakaya there is variety. We went for Yakitori Hatsu, which is chicken heart yakitori. Liver, skin, chicken leg and chicken meatball were the other types. The pieces were tiny but the grilling and tare marination was perfect. And to top it, the waiter got a spice mix to season the Yakitori. As if the tare sauce wasn't enough.

Sushi came next and here too, Izakaya comes out all guns blazing. Maguro (Tuna), Tempura and Sake (Salmon) are the common varieties of Maki Sushi available at most Japanese restaurants. Izakaya offers more choice and we went for the Unagi (Eel) Maki. Nigiri Sushi was not on the menu, but on asking, the waiter said it could be prepared on request. We were mighty pleased with the Maki and so we got ourselves some Salmon Nigiri. Neat job with both the Maki and the Nigiri and it's worth a mention that the waiter was of great help in explaining the mixing of the wasabi and the soy sauce for taste to us novices.

To wrap up the meal we ordered Yaki Gyoza (fried meat dumplings) and Yaki Udon (stir fried wheat noodles).While the Yakitori and the Sushi were the stars of the meal, Izakaya managed to not disappoint with what came after.What deserves a special mention is the service at Izakaya. Ambience and service are two things I don't give much thought to, in my mind they're mostly hygiene factors. But the waiter at Izakaya has to get a 10/10 for his troubles during our time there. Not only was he prompt with suggestions from the menu and off it, he also helped out with seasonings and side dishes we were totally unfamiliar with.

Kudos to Izakaya for raising the bar as far as Japanese cuisine in India is concerned. Several new places have opened since then and how long it takes to top this one remains to be seen!

The website still doesn't say much but here it is: http://www.izakayaindia.com/
For menu (incomplete) ratings and reviews: http://www.zomato.com/ncr/restaurants/south-delhi/vasant-kunj/izakaya-2885