Around the World in 80 Dinners - Bill Jamison [81]
“Oh, my God!” Cheryl yelps in joy on seeing the stately craft. Bill tries to whistle his appreciation but releases more air than sound. About sixty feet long, the wood-and-rattan houseboat sweeps gracefully out of the water on both ends to open decks. A canopy of split bamboo covers the central guest space, featuring a lounging and dining salon, a small bathroom, and a comfortable bedroom with a king-size bed. Winged awnings rise rakishly along the sides, bringing in breezes and sunlight, and offering broad views to the outside.
Our three-man crew joins us on the dock and the receptionist introduces us to the captain, Sadasivum; the steward and engineer, Varghese; and a culinary-institute-trained chef, Rajesh Khanna, all dressed in cotton sarongs that can be tied up to shorts length or unfolded down to the ankles. “They sleep,” our host explains, “on the open platform at the stern, by the galley kitchen, leaving you the rest of the boat at night. Each of them speaks some English, but only the cook is moderately fluent.”
“We’ll get by fine,” Cheryl says confidently.
Pushing out of the shallow water with bamboo poles, the crew punts us toward the center of the lake, where the captain turns on the quiet engine. He sits at the point of the bow, navigating by memory rather than charts, and we stretch out behind him on the forward deck on pillows and padded mats, enjoying the sun and the serene setting. A few other boats putter by, mainly small fishing craft and less attractive (to us) houseboats, some containing two bedrooms. After an hour or so of cruising, Sadasivum pulls into a small cove for a lunch break, and we step back to the dining table in the covered salon.
Saying, “I always make lots of food in case you don’t like everything,” the chef brings out a local feast of seven dishes, mostly vegetable and grain preparations except for a spice-crusted seer topped with green chile, Bill’s favorite among the array of choices. Cheryl prefers the sliced long beans simmered with garlic, turmeric powder, black mustard, black pepper, and chunks of toasted coconut. “Is the tanginess from tamarind?” she asks Rajesh Khanna.
“No, it comes from a native fruit called cocuu.”
Both of us also enjoy a red onion pickle dusted with black pepper, two vegetable mixtures, a thoren and an aviyal, and fresh pineapple for dessert. The food attracts a swarm of flies, but they disappear as soon as we’re under way again.
After lunch, the captain guides us off the lake into a series of canals, some broad, others narrow, and we settle into lounge chairs in the salon to watch the languid world float by. A few people bathe in the channels, but many more work in rice fields along the banks, apparently using fertilizers that fuel a proliferation of water hyacinths, a pretty but noxious weed. Herons, ducks, and other water fowl greatly outnumber the human residents. Spreading her arms wide and smiling, Cheryl says, “I feel like Cleopatra sailing the Nile on my private barge.”
In midafternoon, Sadasivum hands over the helm duties to Varghese and motions for us to follow him to the back. The captain leads us to the kitchen, where he grabs a stone mortar and pestle from a shelf, along with a number of fresh ingredients. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he grinds grated coconut together with turmeric root, sprinkling in water when needed, then adds garlic, cumin seeds, and red chile, continuing to work the mixture until the puree is smoother than a blender version. “He’s showing off,” Rajesh Khanna tells us, “letting you know he’s as good a cook as me, which he is. By the way, do you want prawns with dinner?”
“Yes, please,” Bill replies, “and a bottle of wine, too.”
An hour later, Cheryl returns to the galley, intrigued by the smell of toasting coconut. The chef has split open two extra-large prawns, almost the size of lobsters, and is coating them with a spice rub. Finishing that, he starts sandwiching cheese curd—like paneer cheese before it’s drained and firmed—into rounds of bitter gourd. “These,” he says, “will be deep-fried.