By ANGHARAD LLEWELLYN
IT’S a long way to go in search of Indian grub.
But I’ve flown to Goa with 15 mates to indulge in a week-long curry-a-thon as part of a surprise celebration for a friend’s 30th birthday.
He thought he was just going with his wife — it’s fair to say bumping into a load of your best mates when you’re halfway round the world is a bit of a surprise.
The plan is to spend the first week together in Patnem (and its surrounding beaches, including Agonda and Palolem) before splitting up and heading to Kerala for the second week.
Now, I have a confession. I have never actually liked Indian food, even though I live on the “curry mile” — Brick Lane in London, surrounded by Bangladeshi restaurants.
And as much as I love a red-hot chilli, I have never been able to work up an appetite for a Ruby Murray for dinner.
Curry
But the food is so incredible in Goa I find myself gorging on the stuff. Another naan? Yes please! More aloo gobi? Of course! And then there is the fresh fish — straight from the tandoor, delivered to the table.
Piping hot, full of flavour and tender and moist. Absolutely amazing.
As the Pound stretches so far here, we over-order (and therefore over-eat) at every opportunity.
On average, a main course will set you back the equivalent of two quid. Kingfisher beer is around a Pound.
And as the water in India is not safe to drink (to the point that you cannot even eat salad or fruit that have been washed in it), curry is a reliable choice of fodder.
But it’s an exercise in patience. After you order food, it can take up to an hour-and-a-half to be served.
And this doesn’t take into account the frequent power cuts we experience during our stay.
We take to ordering “tactical snacks” before every meal so that we aren’t gnawing our arms off by the time that the main course arrives.
But after seven days of non-stop kingfish, red snapper and pomfret, I have to admit I am craving a sneaky steak or fish-finger sarnie.
Food in India varies from region to region and when a smaller group of six of us fly down to Kerala for the next leg of our journey, we find ourselves testing out a very different palate.
The curries here are subtle and very sweet. In fact, all the food we try here is sugary — perhaps because coconut and coconut milk is widely used in Keralan cuisine.
Tikka your pick … try a curry or two in beach-side town Varkala
Tikka your pick … try a curry or two in beach-side town Varkala
We settle in the beach-side town of Varkala — a full-of-life, high-spirited hippy town built on the top of a cliff which has a sheer drop to the beach below.
There are no barriers so it’s advised to take extra caution, especially with children or after a few Kingfisher beers. For a taste of luxury, we stay in the Deshadan hotel. It is a set of clean, spacious hotel rooms surrounding a pool. And breakfast is included in the room rate.
Next door, at the Dhatri Treatment And Rejuvenation Centre I try an Ayurveda treatment — a holistic healing science made up of two words ayu (life) and veda (knowledge).
I select an Abhyangam Plus treatment which costs about £15.
Two female masseurs apply hot oil all over my skin and massage it along my “circulatory” channels for 60 minutes. It’s very relaxing and worth giving a go.
The hotel restaurant serves a variety of Indian and Western food and I choose a traditional Keralan chicken curry.
It is mild, subtle and full of flavour but a lot of the menu is very saccharine-sweet.
After two weeks of sun, sea and spicy food, it’s time to head home to the UK.
And guess what I do when I get back? Yes, call everyone to arrange to go for an Indian.
I’m a confirmed curry convert.