Growing up in Pune, we never had access to fresh fish. There was fish caught from the local rivers and lakes but to us snobby Konkanis, it tasted like mud, and surely no one wants to eat mud. The Konkan is an area along the western coast of India that runs roughly from the beaches just north of Bombay all the way down to Goa, a length of approximately 300 miles. Apparently the region also extends into Karnataka and Kerala but for most us growing up in and around Bombay, anyone south of Goa is a Madrasi, so … Konkanis also share a sense of superiority over their neighbors on the other side of the Western Ghats who they refer to collectively as Dhaknis, people from the Deccan plateau. They consider Dakhnis as intellectually inferior, spiritually void and culturally bankrupt. Why and how this arrogance has come about is a source of mystery to me. A Google search for famous Konkani people shows up a few notable names like the famous Indian actor, director Guru Dutt, the CNN personality Fareed Zakaria and the erstwhile notorious don of Bombay, Dawood Kaskar; but that’s hardly a stellar list of the world’s movers and shakers. My personal experience with Konkanis is that they seem to be in a constant state of irritation with everything and everybody around them. My father often brought up a story where a Konkani man woke up in the morning, yelling at his neighbor, “Why did your chicken enter my yard again, and not only did they enter but they shat all over.” This contentious behavior seems antithetical to the serene surroundings of the Konkan coast with the gentle waves of the Arabian Sea lapping against pristine beaches that are lined with coconut and arecanut palms along a backdrop of hills covered with lush tropical forests.
It is in this setting that I remember sitting by the beach with my grandfather, watching the fishing boats returning from their night out, with their haul of freshly caught pomphrets and bombay ducks and mackerels and shrimp. We’d walk down to the rancid smelling fish market and my Nana in his boisterous voice would haggle with the fisherwomen until they reduced their price by half and then triumphantly return home, plonk the fish on the kitchen table and declare that he be woken up from his nap when the food was ready. Occasionally we would get a good deal on some King Fish and that meant we’d be having Fish Pulao for lunch. The King Fish, or Surmai as we called it, is a rather large fish, usually cut up in steaks that has a meaty, yet flaky texture, and is quite flavorful by itself so it doesn’t need too many spices. During our last trip to India, Zanu, who has been with our family forever, made us some Fish Pulao that was out of this world: the fresh fish, the fresh herbs and the freshly squeezed coconut milk and Zanu’s blend of ground spices and his skill at cooking the fish and rice. Simply divine. So last weekend when we went to the Korean store and I saw that they had King Fish on sale, I thought hey, why not.
The recipe as with most Konkani dishes is quite simple. Using a blender or food processor create a coarse masala of green chillies, ginger, garlic and cilantro. Coat half this mixture on the fish and fry it with maybe a tablespoon of oil. Add some ground coriander and cumin powder and garam masala while frying and a little tamarind water or chopped tomatoes. We aren’t really trying to fry the fish, just trying to lightly brown either side. Remove the fish and add the rice to the pot until it is coated with the mixture that is left over in the pot. Then add equal amounts of water and coconut milk and the remaining half of the green masala and when the rice is almost done layer the fish on top, sprinkle with some more garam masala and fried onions (birishta), cover the pot and let it cook on low heat for about 20 mins. Serve with some sweetened tamarind water.Obviously lacking the fresh ingredients, the taste was nowhere close to what Zanu had prepared, but it was still quite a treat.
Now I will wait patiently for all my Konkani relatives to start complaining about how I misrepresented them and how incorrect the above recipe is, while my Dakhni friends laughing at the false sense of superiority of the Konkanis, will remind me that Pulao is to be cooked with chicken or mutton and fish should be fried or dunked in curries. Racism, I tell you, it’s everywhere.