Go Goa Gone

Much has been said and done about Goa, some good, some not so good. You feel you know the place-the best beaches, the hot spots, the much touted eateries, the vindaloos and sorpotels, the sausages and of course, susegad!  It may sound farfetched but going to Goa is like visiting your favourite playing spots of childhood and discovering that one little overlooked nook or crevice or that hidden spot and coming away feeling, ah now I know it all!  Then you go back again and there is another hidden discovery and you pull yourself up, both physically and mentally and go just how could I have missed it, it was there beneath my nose all the while. And as you discover the unseen and unfelt, you fall in love all over again with the old.  It’s like coming across an old you-thought-you-had-lost-forever cuddly toy and enveloping it in your arms and feeling that joyous, warm squishy feeling. It feels good; it makes you realize that you can still have fun and laugh uproariously just like that while the ruckus of daily life-in-a-rut can go take a flying leap.

Every place has its quirks and foibles, the roads much seen and the lanes yet strange to strangers.  There are touristy spots and spots one is unlikely to see.  There are houses and there are houses and this time, we found one, over 450 years old.  Some of the fabled heritage mansions are on the tourist map; some are thankfully not on it, though in one case it appears not out of choice. We are staying in North Goa and we hear of the Figueiredo Mansion at Loutolim in South Goa.  We are told, call Aunty Maria, a day before and she will have a full Portuguese launch ready for you. We are also told that Aunty Maria is 80+ so we need to talk a little louder on the phone and if the visit+lunch is confirmed there is no going back on it. As if we wanted to!

The drive from North Goa to the south is a lovely drive, at times the river Mandovi flows alongside. A gorgeous red brick mansion overlooking the river at Ribandar catches our eye; what would it be like to get up every morning, walk out and see the river flowing below and the vast vista spread out in front.  Beyond Margao, we have to ask for directions a couple of time and after 15-20 minites we are in front of this huge mansion that clearly has seen better days and better shape. Aunty Maria and her man Friday are waiting at the porch itself. Up a small flight of stairs and in through the giant entrance of Figueiredo Mansion (House No. 376, Loutolim) and we are hurtled back into another time and place. But even before I look around I stand admiring Aunty Maria (Maria de Lourdes de Albuquerque) turned out nattily in a belted animal print dress, giant pearl studs in her ears, neckwear, rings, trinkets and make-up including a bright lip colour all in place. For someone her age she moves around briskly and talks nineteen to the dozen. Ah! so it’s true, she can outtalk anyone.  Fortunately, we had been warned and while to an outsider it might have appeared extremely rude, we managed to break into the marathon monologue relating the family history, not just the indifference but the allegedly calculated apathy of the government, back stabbing factotums and what- have- you.

Some of these books are over hundred years old; many are first editions and several are in Portuguese, says Aunty Maria pointing at the cupboards in the foyer chock-a-bloc with fragile, sepia toned volumes. We step into the sitting room on the right with floor to ceiling windows. The ceiling stretches on and on and high above, the intricately carved furniture are crying for a coat of varnish and repair works, priceless vases, plates,  art works, delicate lights all pleading for a touch up. Aunty Maria you know loves the place and is doing her best, but the best efforts by a determined woman is too meager for a huge rolling palace like house that needs tons of money and group efforts and of course, love. The floor is a beautiful cream, rust and black tile floral carpet.  The tiles in every room are different. For Rs 50 per head you get a tour of the house rich with invaluable artifacts, exquisite furniture and just about everything that has your head swiveling every which way.

A glass of refreshing chilled lemonade accompanies the appetizers – a plate of triangular pasties and canapés. The latter is Snacks biscuits with a simple but wonderful topping that has us guessing the ingredients. Nah! Aunty Maria will not tell you what it is. However, back from Goa I tried and hopefully managed to get a near replica (See below).  Would she be having wine and beer? Sure, she does, but that’s extra. Of course, we nod in agreement. After the ball room, the tiny chapels, the verandahs that hug the house, the plant laden inner courtyard and more, we troop into the enormous dining room where the side cabinets house one of its kind customized dinner wares that travelled all the way to this sleepy South Goa corner from China, Europe and elsewhere. Aunty Maria is a walking talking repository of the family history, the lineage and the Goa of pre liberation. She and her husband had moved to Portugal but after decades – her children and grandkids still live there – she moved back home to keep the inheritance and the legacy alive.

It’s a Portuguese meal she says as we bite into juicy pork chops, a nut and raisins filled rice dish and a hearty wholesome salad served on century old family porcelain.  The opener was a prawn soup.  The finisher is the delicious orange pudding, the citrusy flavor wafting around tantalizing. I am not sure but there is a hint of kumquat orange too. Sigh, Aunty Maria guards the recipe and nothing – pleas, requests, cajoling and just about everything else- works. The only thing she concedes is a terse Bain-Marie. Sure if it’s pudding it has to be Bain-Marie. Oof!

As we walk out, Aunty Maria waves us off and stands on the porch till we can’t see her anymore.  This house has to be on the tourist map of Goa, but they refuse to do so, she had been saying all the while we were there. If you are ask her why, be prepared to hear about the marathon history, of rivalry and political difference and so much more.   Aunty Maria also runs an inn (yep Heritage Inn).    Call 0832-277-7028.

As we drive back, there is a feeling of both joy and sadness. Time is a great leveler indeed- the regal lifestyle, the palace like mansion, the precious and the beautiful, the wealth and glamour – has all been reduced to a cracked relic crying for renovation and refurbishment. But if you close your eyes, you might still hear the tinkling of the piano, the whirling of gowns caught in a dance move in the ballroom, the clinking of champagne flutes, the murmured clatter of cutlery, and maybe the laughter of children playing hide and seek. So, was it worth the visit, some asks?

Didn’t Prufrock too ask -

And would it have been worth it, after all, 
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea, 
Among the porcelain 

It was, it is and will be.

Canape topping

4 tbs, grated coconut

150 g mint leaves

Sugar, a pinch

Salt, a pinch

Green chili, 1 (optional)

Lemon juice, a few drops

For garnish, carrot, 1, grated

Except the lemon juice, grind all the ingredients together. If you a mortar-pestle all the better. Put the ground paste in a glass bowl and mix in the lemon juice, adjusting the seasoning to taste. Just before serving put a spoonful of the paste on snack biscuit, top with sparsely with grated carrot and serve immediately.

Note: If you prepare the canapés before the biscuits will turn soggy.

In place of Snacks biscuits you can also use crackers, lightly toasted bread slice cut into   quarters or even tacos.