A Shark Tale: Or Mahesh Lunch Home Part II

After the sol Kadi, I placed me order for lunch. Gassi, or the Manglori style curry, is thick pasted coconut, with turmeric, red chilies and tamarind, onion and ginger. You can order your gassi with the fish of your choice. My waiter was taken aback with my choice of fish - shark.

I'm not aware of which shark breed is used in Indian cooking. I've seen the shark in the market, and its small and nothing like the Steven Spielberg movies. Shark is a fish with a very strong flavour and almost a meat like quality about it. In Goa, we don't use shark in our everyday fish curry, but rather, we make a xacuti like preparation from it. Interestingly, its referred to as "Morieche mutton" (shark mutton). Shark is also dried and used in dried fish curries, which is what is popular in the monsoon months when fresh fish are hard to come by.

The Shark is fresh, and is soft and slides off the bone easily to melt in my mouth. The Gravy was alive with spices. Unfortunately, the two of them didn't really match. The Shark had been cooked separately and dunked into the standard gassi, which did not have anything fishy about it.

I focused on the shark and occasionally dabbed my appam in the curry. The Appam arrived at my table soft and a little deflated. In case Appams aren't your scene, you can have your gassi with rice, or a neer dosa.

Soul Kadi

Though I prefer my fish the Goan way, practical constraints (the only sources of Goan food which do not involve me cooking are pesky relatives who just want me married off) force me to make friends with similar tastes - malvani and manglori. Manglori curries are spicy and thick, like a chutney, unlike the milky consistency of the Goan "Humon". In Mumbai, though sparsely dotted with Manglori "lunch homes", the Page 3 choice is Mahesh Lunch Home. I am given a few curious glances and even have an argument with a waiter who tried to convince me that I was not a single diner (seriously), but my order and apetite got a smile to the waiter's face.

Sol Kadi is on the beverages menu, and sol kadi it is. Interestingly I never grew up with the concept of sol kadi as a beverage. Ending a meal of hot, spicy fish curry rice with some sheeth-kadi (rice and solkadi) was a Goan Staple. It is kind of like our curd. One coconut is opened up in my house every day - half goes for the curry, 1/4th for sprinkling over vegetables and salad, and 1/4th would be scraped, ground with a little water, and its thick milk would be extracted for sol kadi. Sometimes, a few garlic cloves would be thrown into the mixie along with the coconut for a garlic flavour. Sometimes Ajwain would spice things up. Sometimes a hot green chili would be roasted on an open flame and thrown in for its rather unique taste. The milk would be emptied into a bowl where a few "solas", the fruit of the kokum tree, would soak in a few teaspoons of hot water, salt and sugar. If served as a leftover, the sol kadi would be tempered with mustard seeds and curry leaves. The Sol Kadi would be ladled out on the rice kept neatly aside for the purpose. As the Kadi was runny, as children we were taught to pile up our rice into a small mound and make a hole down the middle, kind of like a volcano, and pour the kadi down there. Then quickly, we were told to mix our rice in the kadi so that the kadi would be absorbed by the rice. Kadi should always be in excess though - good GSB women are taught to chastize guests for eating "sukhe sheeth" or dry rice i.e. rice with very little solkadi in it.

Sol kadi is meant to relax the digestive system, but in its new avtaar as an appetizer, it seeks to do the opposite. I sip the beer glass of Sol Kadi which is given to me - the Kadi is thick and creamy and at the outset I note that it has been made using freshly grated coconut. There's most certainly a garlicky presence and as I swallow my sip I note a spicy aftertaste. The Solas played their part well and more importantly made an early exit, ensuring just the right colour .