(3 Mar ’13).
Those from the past, friends and
family, who are visiting Goa think that if they’ve come here, they must have a
Goanese (yike, that word again) meal. They’re not sure what that means, but
they’ve read on the net that prawns balchao, sorpotel, pork vindaloo and fried
kalamari are a must. There must be salty breeze to breathe and feni to drink
alongside. Unlike in Goa Portuguesa, Mumbai, few restaurants here have
floppy-stomached men wearing long-chuddies, flowery shirts and frayed straw-hats
plucking on out of tune guitars, singing jaded numbers.
Friends from Jodhpur who came
visiting were surprised that we weren’t interested in living anywhere near the
beach. Our little patch of jungle, away from traffic jams and foreign accents, was
where Goa really lived, I told them, and we were happy there.
“You always
were weird,” their eyes seemed to say. Ignoramus zindabad, I figured, and kept
the tongue under tight control. I die to give lectures about the Real Goa
whenever I host some people.
Coming to the other half of today’s
topic. I always buy a new indigenously-made (food) product to encourage
entrepreneurship. I want to believe that India can grow strawberries and make
strawberry jams as good as the ones available in the best stores abroad. I enjoy the Amul cheeses and gift them
proudly to family and friends from across the oceans. What a pity they’ve
stopped making that wonderfully versatile and tasty cheese-powder. Trouble is,
many of the packaged products are of poor quality. I have no idea whom the
manufacturers are trying to fool. I bought a packet of Limbu Pani Masaledar
made and marketed by Mumbai’s Neel Beverages Pvt Ltc, which the packet claims
is “India’s first in the Premix manufacturing category, an ISO 22000-2005 Certified
Co.” I wonder whether the certifiers tasted the product. Or whether they did a
survey of the customers. I’m sure they’ve perfectly followed the management
procedures and documented every move without error. And the powder that is the
outcome of that system tasted … I won’t tell you like what.
In contrast,
another new product, called ‘nature-cola health drinks’ which sounded like
something made at the back of a garage, manufactured by Team24 Beverages right
here in Goa, is something I’d happily serve my guests. (I or my family,
descendants, neighbours, etc don’t get a paisa in kind, favour or cash from any
manufacturer, factory owner, shop-owner dealer or their relatives. That’s to
set the record straight that whatever I’m writing here is objective and impartial.)
The famous
paos and pois that we Goans love to feed visitors as ‘our’ bread isn’t always
tasty. We may herald the arrival of the poder on his cycle, alerted by his
honking outside our gate and rush to buy this ‘really goan’ thing. The
experience can be disappointing; few bakeries have maintained their quality.
The balchao
and recheado masalas, as well as the chutneys and powders that are sold as
‘home-made’: do the makers actually use them in their own homes? At Sangolda,
on CHOGM road, there’s a table where some hard-working women sell ladoos,
chaklyo, and other snacks. They sell and make a profit, I’m sure. The buyers
are drivers and low-end tourists who aren’t likely to come back ever. I don’t
think they’re trying to make a name so that people return just to eat the stuff
again. No pride in the product, no name to be gained, no reputation at stake.
But surely those who put labels to their product, who have invested in
factories, machinery and manpower need to rethink quality? Sometimes I feel allowing
the FDI into the country might be a good idea just so we get a feel of
competition and improve our products. The debate of how it will affect the poor
is a different story.
Coming back
to the visitors: most tourists go home happy with the food eaten in the
restaurants. But the take-away gifts, other than cashews and daarue, are lousy:
the less said about the soaps-on-strings the better.
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