Around the World in 80 Dinners - Bill Jamison [79]
Grabbing another tuk-tuk, we head to lunch at Malabar Junction, a restaurant in the simple but attractive courtyard of the Malabar House hotel. For a refreshing drink, the waiter brings fresh squeezed ginger juice for us to combine with simple syrup and sparkling water, like a do-it-yourself ginger ale. Cheryl orders honey-and-ginger marinated medallions of seer, sautéed and served on a bed of crab curry with batter-fried strips of okra. Bill chooses Kerala-style lamb, cooked in a sauce featuring black pepper. “The meat isn’t much,” he says, “but the sauce is a tribute to the potency of pepper, building bite by bite in glorious intensity.” For dessert, we share chocolate samosas, pillows of crisp dough filled with melted chocolate and drizzled with mango puree.
A leisurely harbor cruise occupies much of the afternoon and early evening. Departing from the hotel, the boat takes us around the northern tip of the large, nearby Willingdon Island to see Kochi’s extensive international port facilities, and then surveys the shore of Ernakulam, the city’s main business and residential area. The captain pilots us by several smaller and relatively undeveloped islands, passing scores of other vessels, including navy ships, a tanker, many trawlers, and, around twilight, a two-level, Indian-style party boat named My Heart, which boasts a giant yellow duck head on the bow and an equally large duck tail on the stern. Everyone onboard is dancing as they wave to us, reminding us of one of the choreographed spectacles in a Bollywood movie. Right before we dock, a stunning sunset splashes the heavens with improbable shades of purple and fuchsia, providing a dramatic backdrop for photos Cheryl takes of the Chinese fishing nets.
The Brunton Boatyard staff has arranged a driver and car to haul us to dinner on Willingdon Island at the first CGH Earth hotel, the Casino, a name used in its earliest sense as “cottage home” rather than the acquired connotation of “gambling establishment.” For decades, the Casino’s seafood restaurant, Fort Cochin, has enjoyed a reputation for excellence, but we’re skeptical because all our information comes from out-of-date and possibly unreliable sources.
The delightful dining terrace assures us at least of a charming evening. As you enter, the massive trunk of a banyan tree—so lovely it looks like an elegant piece of monumental sculpture—soars into the darkness above the romantically lighted patio. For taste teasers, the waiter brings us small plates of fried vegetable tidbits and addictive fried anchovies mixed with curry leaves. As we nibble on these and begin to think reports on the restaurant have some legitimacy, the waiter returns pushing a cart of fish and shellfish. “This is the menu. We don’t put anything on paper because we only serve the catch of the day, which changes, of course.” He points out the options, including two freshwater fish, mullet and pearl spot, plus seafaring creatures such as silver pomfret, seer, several snappers, rock lobster, and prawns of varying sizes. “The chef will prepare any of them in any way you prefer.”
“Wow, what a responsibility,” Cheryl says.
“While you choose,” the waiter asks, “would you like bowls of seafood chowder, one of our specialties?”
“Sure,” Bill responds, happy to see the fellow leave us alone for a moment to commune silently with the fish about their fate and ours.
“Maybe we should try the black pomfret,” Cheryl says. “It’s in the pompano family, I think, and it’s considered the best fish in the area.”
“Okay, but let’s have it two ways, grilled with a spice coating and cooked in a curry.”
Bill relays our decision when the waiter returns with the chowder, a creamy, substantial version flecked with bits of fish