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I was meeting a modso for the first time. I can’t speak for the deep-sea fish — fillets of which rested on a chopping board — but I was happy to see it being seasoned with salt, turmeric, cumin powder, red chilli powder and coconut vinegar. About 10 minutes later, the fish was bathed in egg yolk and covered in semolina. And then it sizzled in smoking-hot oil before being served in a white ceramic plate with a pretty blue-and-black floral rim.
Love the local: Delicacies at Tempero, the Goan-cuisine restaurant at ITC Grand Goa
The fried fish travelled to a cosy corner of a large dining hall, where a black table was laid out with several other dishes — Goan fish curry, mushrooms stuffed with grated cheese, recheiado masala, French beans and carrots, green salad drizzled with coconut vinegar, red rice, cabbage foogath (stir-fried cabbage with grated coconut, tempered with black mustard seeds) and a potato curry in coconut milk, with curry leaves.
Hearth of the matter: Chef Sarita Carvalho
My host for this very local meal was Chef Sarita Carvalho, the brain and heart behind Tempero, the Goan restaurant at ITC Grand Goa Resort and Spa. I knew I was settling down for a five-star meal, but it really felt like I was at someone’s home — under the gaze of a doting matriarch. Tempero opens only for dinner, though Carvalho never turns away anyone who wanders in at lunchtime. She plies my plate with rice and fish before she runs to fetch a helping of spicy chorizo sausages and poi (Goan bread).
I saw no point in heading to the spa after the meal. A lunch such as this should steer you straight to bed for another very Goan ritual — siesta. I cancelled the appointment (perhaps also because I had already enjoyed an hour-long deep tissue massage the day before). The ever-smiling Tom P Unni — the personal butler (do I sound immodest!) — drove me to my pool villa in a golf cart. “See you at 6, sunset time,” he said as I tottered out of sight. The walk from the door to the massive bedroom — about 20 steps — seemed unending. So I crashed on the couch in the living room, spooked by the shape and the size my stomach had acquired.
In the light of the setting sun, the Arossim beach, one of the cleanest in South Goa, looked like a place I’d never leave. The sea breeze was both salty and strong, and the air quality embarrassingly clean for someone who lives on charcoal-like oxygen in Delhi. My tummy was still busy digesting the Carvalho spread but the throat was ready for a cocktail. The Long Island Iced Tea took only two minutes to arrive from the beachside Royal Afghan restaurant — kudos to Unni, who is the manager. And a plate of juicy, non-orange tandoori chicken (I never thought I would order this in Goa, of all places) sealed every possibility of dinner that night.
My resolve weakened when I reached the well-lit Village Square around 9 pm. The village in question is the sprawling resort, and the square (let’s not get literal, please) is actually the huge courtyard at the heart of it. You can take a table at the piazza, and order food from any of the five restaurants around it. From risotto to raan , bento boxes to bebinca — I was sitting in the midst of a food carnival. And some great live music.
Then, from the corner of a greedy eye, I spotted Carvalho running around Tempero. The tables were full and she, quite obviously, had a long night ahead. But I was in no hurry, just like all things in Goa. There never really is an unearthly hour for a plate of fried modso .
( The writer was in Goa at the invitation of ITC Grand Goa Resort and Spa)
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