iRohit.com

I am always game for a new seafood restaurant. And my love for the fish is pretty well known in my circle of friends. It so happened that a friend had designed a menu for a joint called Fisherman’s Wharf, so she, being impressed by the menu told us about the restaurant. She said that the food was good and it was located somewhere in South Goa. Being a girl, she probably thought ‘South Goa’ was good enough marker to locate this, mythical of sorts, place. This was more than a year back. So every time while deciding on place for dinner, Fisherman’s Wharf was always at the back of our mind, but since it was way down south, and its fame always rivaled that of Mount Kailash, we never had the daring to explore. That all changed a couple of weeks back. A colleague, who hails from ‘South Goa’, upon my mention of the legend of the Wharf, almost lit up and confirmed that such a place indeed existed. He promised to find the direction to it. So this past weekend when I was coming home to Goa, I had decided that I will get to the end of this, the greatest of foodie mystery. I asked to be handed over the directions, and after a few calls, the dude forwards me a SMS. But the SMS had a line, a sort of forewarning, that asked the reader to please confirm the direction with others. Damn! Who are these others???

Anyways, three of us, A, R and me set out ‘Down South’ looking for the Wharf located a bit ahead of the Holiday Inn on the left side of the road. I have hardly ventured south of Martin’s Corner, maybe an occasional trip to Palolem beach. So I didn’t know where Mobor, Cavelossim were. I took a right of the NH17 at the Verna junction and then continued straight. Stopped more than a couple of time enquiring about the Wharf, but all I got were blank faces. No one had heard of it. So tried a change in our approach. ‘Where was Holiday Inn?’, this question got us better pointers, we drove for a good two hours, with couple of circles, few wrong turns, a lot of backtracking, and at one point we were actually heading back to Margao. A was getting really hungry, and knowing that the ‘rechad pomfret’ of Martin’s Corner was very close, we were tempted to take a U-turn and abandon our expedition. A call was placed to a friend asking for the direction to Holiday Inn, and his reply was that it is at the other end of world. Not very encouraging But determined we were. We continued! And finally, saw a board saying Holiday Inn 18 km. Good, at least we seemed to be on the right road. After a while, we passed Holiday Inn and now all looked left, eagerly. And after what appeared to be the most deserted road in the whole of Goa, we saw lights, and a board, that hollered out ‘Fisherman’s Wharf’. A sense of achievement beamed on our hungry faces. The mystery of the Wharf solved! and that we will live to tell others the same… It was a spectacular setting. Lighted lamps led to the open parking. And then a waiter led us to our table that was set on a wooden wharf on a river bank, with fishing trawlers docked on the other bank. The setting was an actual wharf!!! with the mangroves and the gentle sound of the river flowing, and the occasional ripples of wave crashing into the bank every time a trawler passed by. There was a private party already in progress with a lovely live band dishing out the usual songs that are popular in Goa and a couple of Konkani songs. The bar was located at the center where all the people seemed to have gathered sipping their drinks and chatting. There was an open kitchen where the chefs demonstrated their skills by cooking a gala fare and the more flamboyant did the occasional ‘flaming the pans’ routine.

The service was excellent, I must add and prompt. We started with me ordering a cocktail, can’t remember the name, but it had whiskey, lime and orange juice and it was quite nice. A ordered Jack Daniels with soda, R decided to have a mocktail, Sea Green, which she enjoyed. I ordered prawns rawa fry, A, his almost staple Gobi Manchurian dry. The prawns were fresh and fried just about right and served with mayonnaise. Very nice! And A found the manchurian well done too. I asked the waiter for some fish and he brought out a selection that consisted of a lobster, tiger prawns, red snapper, and pomfret. Since R and me where the only fishetarian, we settled for rechad pomfret. As we chatted about lives, family, friends, and good old Goa in this, most enthralling of setting, we really had a lovely time. Calls were made to near and dear ones trying to make them jealous and it did. The pomfret was served and it was fresh and hot. The rechad masala was more hot than spicy, but good none the less. We feasted on the zesty pomfret. For the second round of drinks I ordered a margarita, A continued with JD and R decided to sample Wet Blossom. The margarita was exquisite. So impressed was A with it, that he decided that he wanted one as well. R seems pleased with her mocktail too. For the finale, we ordered the famous prawn-curry rice and pulav with paneer-butter masala. I decided to wash down this with a pint of beer. The prawns curry was as good as it gets. It was laden with generous amounts of prawns. A liked his meal too. Over all the food was good, really authentic goan. Though I would still vouch for the rechad masala at Martin’s Corner, this was a good nonetheless. But given the setting, it more than made up for the food. The drinks were all good. No complains there. All were reasonable priced too. The quantity was more than the usual. Overall the place is highly recommended. The service staff is nice and more than willing to serve you. A quick note on the cutlery, it was good, classy, and the chairs were quite comfortable and not the usual plastic, for a change.

So it was well-worth the total 140 odd kms we drove. And getting lost, and almost giving up. But at the end of the day, we can say that there indeed is a restaurant called the Fisherman’s Wharf and it’s beautiful!

Ok, this one is a first, a food/restaurant review on iRohit.com. And the restaurant doesn’t get bigger than the Mystic Masala located at the Taj Blue Diamond, Pune. So we; A, V and myself were all very excited as it’s not everyday that the “common man” goes to The Taj for dinner.

We reached there at 9 pm. The Maître d’ announced that we might have to wait for a while as place was full. While we waited, we had a look at the decor and it was a very mystical mix of the traditional and the contemporary. It had bags of spices placed at the entrance, to create an illusion of traditional Indian kitchen to the firangs, I am sure. Ok, after waiting patiently for 20 odd minutes we were informed that out table was ready and we were lead to our table by a very pretty Maître d’. The term, waiter, some how doesn’t sound right. Grouping these people with their untrained counterparts that serve people like you and me at the next door Udipi joint every other ‘ordinary’ day is unfair considering that these people must have been trained in the art of waiting on customers by some very good trainers at some premier hotel management institute. Our very pretty Maître d’, offered to serve us Evian. Ofcourse, we very gracefully declined being ripped off and asked for plain water instead. The waiter then brought us their wine selection. Since we were not particularly comfortable with the right-most column we asked for the usual beverages menu instead. After skimming though our available choices, we decide on a round of cocktails. Caiprojka for V, Cognac Alexander for A and Long Island Ice tea for moi, the very reluctant host for the evening. For starters, the sheer curiosity made us order Galauti Kebabs. For entrée we were recommended Murg Lazzatdhar with A’s ordering Roomali rotis. And I suggested we try the Kacchi gosht ki biryani. And then the wait began. We waited and waited and waited a bit more. After about 15 mins the waiter informs us that there is no fresh mint for the cocktail… Ya right! I had to pinch myself to see if I was actually dining at India’s most celebrated of hotel chains. I am pretty sure by now it must have dawned upon you that mine was not a pleasant experience at this most glorified of restaurant in Pune. And I shall give you my reason.

So we munched on the papads and the fried wafers to kill the time. After what seemed like an eternity waiting for the drinks, they finally were served. After the cheers, I gulp a sip…. so to utter disbelief, I could not feel a tinge of the four promised spirits that the Long Island Ice Tea is crafted from. And that was it! I mean, I may not really understand the finer points of critiquing on food but liquor, that’s my area of expertise. How dare this bartender take me for a ride but filling a glass with coke and ice? Just to be sure I asked A to taste it and he too confirmed. So since the waiter was close by I complained and he was quick to take back the drink and get it back with more alcohol in it. But by then the whole evening was spoilt. You may think I am being harsh, but let me say this. It not everyday I go to The Taj for dinner. And When I do go, I expect the most supreme of experience that any restaurant can offer. In any other restaurant I would have been kind enough to overlook this blunder but not at The Taj. The Taj boasts of nothing but the best, everytime! Add just for record, my cocktail still was awful.

The Galauti kebabs were different. The kebabs were served on what I assume were wheat based biscuits. The kebabs seem to be made from minced gosht and fried like pancakes, and served with some green salad. It was pretty good. The chicken gravy for the main course was ordinary, and it being suggested by the waiter really was disappointing. The Kacchi gosht ki biryani though was good. It had a mild mix of spices, with really well marinated, tender mutton chunks. V, who had a second round of cocktail requested that they put generous amounts of vodka this time around. Now to touch upon the cutlery, well it was again ordinary; the ambience didn’t really stand out. They had live band singing old Hindi song. The singer had a really soothing voice but I think the place being so small, the music actually proved more of an inconvenience while chatting amongst ourselves. The waiters though well trained didn’t really seemed polished. A summed the whole evening very well and to quote, “we were not made to feel special”.