God’s own feast: Terrano Food Trails

“Are there any vegetarians in Kerala?” asks Vikrant. He knows my lifelong distaste for greens because he’s been at the receiving end of many a non-vegetarian restaurant, on the many road trips we have been on. His question is a valid one though – Kerala is one of the last bastions of beef in the country and he’s worried about having to live another road trip on rice and dal. To alleviate his fears, we start our new gastro adventure in Kochi.

Now, there are two things you should know about me. One, I’m no foodie and two, I grew up in Kochi. These two unrelated facts are significant to this story because I love Mallu food and I don’t have a clue as to where to get good food in Kochi. I left the place over fifteen years ago for god’s sake!

Café Cinema in Cochin is a great place to start a Mallu food trail

Yet, I’m keen to show Vikrant’s stomach a good time and a friend recommends a small restaurant called Café Cinema, off  Bannerjee road. It’s a clean, delightful little restaurant that’s got Malayalam movie posters all over its walls and a sign that reads ‘production room’ over the kitchen door. The owner is a big fan of Malayalam movies and therefore his restaurant looks and feels the way it does. Vikrant is expecting the usual dosa, vada and idli combo, but I convince him to try the puttu kadala. Now, for those living north of south India, puttu is a combination of steamed rice powder and coconut, and kadala is a curry made of black chana. Vikrant loves it but finds the combination too spicy for his palate. I don’t blame him – Kerala is known as the land of spices because well before Vikrant and I got here, the state traded spices with the Europeans, with the earliest records showing trade with the Sumerians from 3000 B.C. I settle for an appam (a crispy edged pancake made from rice flour) and egg curry. We wash it down with some kickass filter coffee and can’t quite believe it cost us only `85 for the pleasure.

We recommend the appams and the puttu kadala

We hop into the white Terrano parked outside and it seems as eager as us to get on the road. Our plan is to head to Cherai beach, about an hours’ drive away and feast on some seafood, you know, because Vikrant says he isn’t hungry anymore. Now, if you’ve ever driven in Kerala, you will know what a pain it is to drive there. It is the only state in India that doesn’t conform to the set width for national highways, so most roads are still narrow two-lanes with no shoulders. If you get stuck behind a slow moving truck, you will probably be stuck behind him forever. Not in the Terrano. It feels so peppy! It’s almost like it sneaked in some filter coffee at Café Cinema while we weren’t looking. We overtake truck, buses and other slow moving traffic with ease, the steering helping us make quick avoidance manoeuvres and the brakes save the odd dog on the road many a time. We get to Cherai in no time and are instantly disappointed. They’ve built a huge break-water wall, so you can’t see the beach from any of the restaurants anymore. Vikrant and I decide to head to our next destination but then I decide to sample some chemeen (shrimp) masala at a local nameless shack which turns out to be delicious and again, very easy on the wallet.

Prawn masala for a snack

By now it’s sweltering – the weather in the coastal bits of Kerala is all about humidity – the type that makes your shirt stick to your back and wish you could carry a portable shower around. I’m so grateful for the Terrano’s air-conditioning – it cools the cabin down double quick. In fact, it cools the cabin a bit too much, so we turn up the temperature soon. The other and better way, to turn down the heat is to stop for tender coconut and that’s exactly what we do over the Thanneermukkom bund. This is the bund that prevents the intrusion of salt water from the Arabian sea into the Kuttanad lowlands. It the one that divides the Vembanad lake into two parts – the brackish saltwater part that meets the Arabian sea at the Kochi Port, and the freshwater side that’s filled by rivers draining into the lake. More importantly for this story, it’s the side that’s responsible for our lunch.

Karimeen pollichathu for lunch

After filling up on refreshing tender coconut juice, we head towards Kumarakom because Vikrant says that any photoshoot in Kerala is incomplete without the mandatory ‘kettuvallam’ picture. Cue our opening shot.

In the old days, these boats were used to transport rice and spices between Kuttanad and Kochi, a journey which used to take three days. A standard 100-foot long boat could carry upto 30 tonnes which is approximately what a modern day lorry can carry and that’s ultimately what led to the demise of these boats as workhorses. With the development of Kerala’s road and rail infrastructure, people shifted to modern ways of transport and these boats were converted into floating hotels. Three bedroom air-conditioned ones go for 35k a night these days!

The Terrano is a pretty serene SUV to drive

A boatman on one of the moored ones in a canal tells us about a waterfront restaurant in Cheepunkal. Attached to it is a fresh fish store, and as we settle down and order a Kerala meal that consists of red rice, sambar, fish curry, pappadom and cabbage thoran, houseboats keep pulling up and buying fresh fish for the night. I order a Karimeen Pollichathu. The Karimeen (Pearl Spot fish), marinated in local spices and curry leaves, is wrapped in a banana leaf and pan seared which results in dual cooking, both through direct contact with the pan and steaming within the leaf. The result is out of this world and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

With stomach’s so full, we can’t possibly drive back right now, so we decide to park up alongside one of the canals and watch life go by. Vikrant goes off to shoot birds while I discover that the combination of the Terrano’s comfortable seats, the warm wind blowing over the lake and the slow pace of life in these backwaters are a relaxing end to my Christmas holidays. Besides, I simply cannot eat anymore! L