Eating Aldeburgh

Finding Good Food on the Suffolk Coast

Introduction

Suffolk

Aldeburgh

This post differs from the similarly named posts for Malta, Madeira and elsewhere. There we read dozens of menus to see what local people ate, or at least the version of it restaurateurs wish to present to visitors, and then set about eating it

We did our research for those posts in Valletta and Funchal, both orders of magnitude larger than the small Suffolk coastal town of Aldeburgh (pop: just over 2,000). We did read the menus of Aldeburgh’s small clutch of restaurants and although they presented a cross-section of modern British restaurants – far better and more diverse than they were thirty or forty years ago – there was little uniquely Suffolk about them, so we had to look elsewhere.

Suffolk with Aldeburgh (underlined) and the position of Suffolk in England (inset)

The people of Aldeburgh and their visitors obviously care about good food. They have, I am delighted to report, no McDonald's, Burger King, KCF, Domino’s or Starbucks, but instead there is an artisan butcher’s, a bakery or two, a specialist cheesemonger and several independent coffee shops (plus the inevitable supermarket). They also have one local speciality which marks out the town - the fish shacks.

The Fish Shacks

Aldeburgh’s pebble beach is not much use to the bucket and spade brigade, but is good for landing the catch from small fishing boats. Much of that catch finds its way to the line of sheds along the top of the beach

Fish shacks, Aldeburgh

These are not officially called the ‘fish shacks,’ but the name seems appropriate. From this angle they look rather down-at-heal, but that is misleading. Aldeburgh is an affluent little town and these sheds deal in the finest and freshest fish available – and charge accordingly.

Smoked Fish

A couple of them specialise in smoked fish, and this was there we headed on our first morning.

Smoked fish shack

We bought some smoked haddock paté. Which made a pleasant lunch…

Smoked haddock paté, toast and a salad

…and some hot-smoked eel. Hot-smoking is carried out between 74° and 85°C. The fish cooks during the process, resulting in stronger smoky flavour and a firm, moist texture. Cold-smoking is done between 20° and 30° and the fish requires curing with salt afterwards.

The eel looked like a length sawn from a policeman’s truncheon, but the advice given was to cut it in rounds between the vertebrae and removed the leathery skin with a sharp knife. This worked and we gently warmed the resulting discs and served them with buttered boiled potatoes and the last spears of the English asparagus season. And very good it was, too.

Smoked eel, boiled potatoes and asparagus

Fresh Fish

On our final day, we returned to the shacks, browsing for a fish.

An Aldeburgh fish shack

At a shack – not the one photographed – we spied a Dover sole. Big enough to feed two, it was eye-wateringly expensive, because Dover sole is, but we could not resist it.

It was a whole fish, so Lynne decided she needed some advice about preparation. The internet was, as ever, full of suggestions, but it would be a remarkable holiday cottage which supplied the sort of knives needed to fillet the fish raw.

Fortunately, Rick Stein had a practical solution. First, remove the skin. A nick near the tail starts the process…

A nick by the tale starts the process

…and each side comes off in one piece, just as Rick promised. This allows you to deal with the guts which largely sit just behind the head.

Pealing off the skin

Then dust with flour and pan-fry it whole - if your pan is big enough. Even after removing the head, a cut across the fish was necessary to make it fit our pan. Fillet after cooking…

Filleting the cooked sole

…then serve with crushed new potatoes and locally picked samphire.

Dover sole with crushed new potatoes and samphire

Thank you, Lynne (and Rick).

Restaurant Fish

Take Away

Our attempt to eat out on Wednesday ended in failure. We had not booked, every table in the restaurant was occupied and we were turned away with apologies. Time for Plan B.

I earlier listed the fast-food abominations Aldeburgh does not have, and nowhere did I mention a chip shop. I give fish and chips a pass because they are deeply embedded in British food culture, and because they are almost all independent, there are no vast chains of franchised identikit fish and chip shops.

That said, I cannot remember the last time I was in a chippy, but it was years, maybe decades ago. Aldeburgh has two, both under the same management, and one, the Golden Galleon, was 50m from our front door.

The Golden Galleon, Aldeburgh. Our home for the week was up the alley to the left of the chippy

Inside it was bright, clean and did not smell of stale frying. Although there were, as always, other accompaniments we ordered cod and mushy peas with the inevitable chips, took them home and ate them from the chip papers.

Lynne with her fish and chips

The batter was crisp, light and golden, the fish huge and flaky and the chips fresh and not even slightly soggy – and that is as good as it gets.

Eating Out

We returned to our original choice of restaurant two days later, this time with a reservation.

Lynne was disappointed that the red mullet was finished, but instead chose the Catch of the Day, a pleasing plump, fresh plaice that arrived, lurking beneath a bed of capers. She was pleased with her alternative choice.

A nice piece of plaice

Lobster Thermidor is a somewhat dated symbol of luxurious, even extravagant dining.

Thermidor (19 July to 17 August) was the ‘Heat month’ of the French Revolutionary Calendar. Despite their richly descriptive names – Brumaire (Fog month 22 Oct to 20 Nov), Floréal (Flower month, 20 April – 19 May) – the Calendar did not catch on and was abandoned by Napoleon in 1805.

Created in Paris in the 1890s, Lobster Thermidor involved freshly boiled lobster being taken from its shell, shredded and incorporated into a sauce based on onions, mustard, wine, brandy and cream. It is then replaced in the shell, covered with grated Gruyère and popped under a grill until the cheese has melted.

There was no Lobster Thermidor on the menu, but this coast is best known for its crabs, so they had a Crab Thermidor. Maybe it was a bit tongue-in-cheek, and I ordered it with a sense of irony, but it was excellent. Lynne objects to ‘fish that has been messed about’ and although I am less purist, I expected the rich, complex sauce and the cheese to drown out the delicate flavour of crab, but not so, instead they worked together. It was nicely presented, though the salad dressing had a sweetness I could have done without.

Crab thermidor

Having skipped the starter, I was pleased to find I could manage a dessert. I chose the vanilla pannacotta, with rhubarb poached in vodka and shortbread crumb.

Vanilla pannacotta

The pannacotta wobbled nicely, though it may have been too wobbly, but that is erring on the right side. It also tasted of vanilla - I am always pleased when ‘vanilla’ really means ‘vanilla’ and is not being used as a synonym for ‘plain.’ I am unsure why vodka was involved; it hardly added to the flavour. The shortbread crumb provided a pleasing extra texture

An East Anglian Lunch

Not everything is about fish. We ate a lunch using ingredients culled from the specialist local shops where every item was, if not from Suffolk, at least from East Anglia – except the butter, which was sold as being just ‘British.’

An East Anglian lunch

The sourdough bread is from the bakery round the corner.

The tomatoes were supermarket bought in Staffordshire, but were (coincidently) grown in Cambridgeshire.

The cheese top left on the board is Wensum White, an artisan goat’s cheese made at Fielding Cottage on the Steggles family farm near Honingham, just west of Norwich. It is a mild, semi-soft cheese, often described as a ‘goat brie,’ though I find that confusing. It has a delicate flavour and a sumptuous texture. The name comes from the River Wensum which winds its way across Norfolk and through Norwich.

Baron Bigod (pronounced By God, by some, and Bigg-od by others) is made at Fen Farm near Bungay, on Suffolk's northern edge. Made using a Brie-de-Meaux recipe Baron Bigod has a silky breakdown under the rind and balances a clean lactic brightness with mushroomy, vegetal notes (Neal’s Yard Dairy). I always enjoy Brie-de-Meaux and Baron Bigod is as good as any, and better than most. It is surely one of the best cheeses made in England.

Digression alert! Last November we lunched at ‘Pick and Cheese’ at Seven Dials in London, where I had the privilege of tasting Truffle Baron Bigod, the same cheese with a layer of truffle infused ricotta.

Baron Bigod is expensive, the truffled version is, in Lynne’s words, extravagant. As she does not like truffles, I fear I cannot justify such extravagance.

Truffled Baron Bigod, Pick and Cheese

​

Digression over.

The sausage is a Suffolk chorizo. In 2019 we visited the Countryfile Live exhibition at Blenheim in Oxfordshire where we encountered the prize-winning Suffolk Salami Company in the British charcuterie tent.

Lane Farm Foods, Countryfile Live

Everything they produce is made at Lane farm in the village of Brundish, 20Kkm, as the crow flies, northwest of Aldeburgh. They make their chorizo with DOP Pimentón de la Vera paprika, a smoked paprika imported from Spain, but otherwise ingredients are local. It is smaller in circumference and more densely packed with pork than the mass-produced chorizo imported by supermarkets. Whether Spanish artisan chorizo’s are like this I do not know, but it matters not. This is a spicy, meaty delight and encouraged us to return to the shop and acquire a fennel salami to take home.

And In Conclusion….

We ate many other things during our stay, which were not particularly Suffolk, including an excellent pair of Barnsley chops from the local artisan butcher. There were also several, ‘cup-of-tea-and-a-sandwich lunches, and an occasionally beer and a packet of crisps. After all the food, I should mention that Suffolk is home to the excellent Adnam’s Brewery - and half a dozen or more wineries. We might possibly investigate those another time.

And we did not just eat. We visited castles and Anglo-Saxon burial grounds, old churches, local museums and more, as can be found in the other Aldeburgh post (coming soonish)

Aldeburgh and Around

Part 1: Strollng Round Town
Eating Aldeburgh

and much more to come

Malta: Eating and Drinking

Searching Out the Food and Drink that Makes Malta Special

Malta

We spent a week in Malta, nowhere near long enough to become experts on Maltese cuisine, but time enough to eat in several cafés and restaurants, and peruse the menus of many more. We were not interested in the myriad bars hawking Aperol spritz – two for the price of one during certain hours - not just because Aperol is not our drink, but because such bars can be found anywhere from Liverpool to Ljubljana. We were, though, interested to discover that every Maltese restaurant has rabbit on the menu. Now, that makes Malta special.

Meat

Rabbit

Rabbit is so popular in Malta that almost every restaurant heads its ‘meat mains’ with ‘Maltese Rabbit Stew.’ It is an ordinary sort of stew with onions, garlic, red wine, tomato, nutmeg, various herbs and chopped vegetables, but none the worse for that. Lynne enjoyed hers, she always likes a rabbit, though lurking in the depths was a big block of offal; kidneys, liver and other organs. We generally both enjoy liver and kidney, but rabbit’s offal has a strong, rather rank flavour which she found disagreeable.

Maltese Rabbit Stew

The Maltese used to hunt rabbit, but loss of habitat and over-exploitation have reduced the wild population so hunting is now strictly controlled. Most rabbits on Valetta’s menus are locally farmed.

Pulled Rabbit Rigatoni

When it was my turn for rabbit, I chose pulled rabbit rigatoni. Maltese food is heavily influenced by their neighbours across the sea to the north, and every menu offers a multitude of pasta dishes. The rabbit had been so assiduously shredded that almost became part of the sauce, but I enjoyed the full rich flavour and the fresh, al dente pasta.

Veal

Veal virtually disappeared in the UK over 20 years ago over justified animal welfare concerns. The EU has introduced strict regulation since then, the notorious ‘veal crates’ have been banned and welfare standards raised considerably. On that basis I decided that while Lynne ate her rabbit, I would indulge in the unaccustomed pleasure of veal. And a fine piece of meat it was, luxuriating in its lemony sauce.

Veal with a Lemon Sauce

I had some qualms, not everything is perfect in the European veal industry, but I do not accept the still surprisingly prevalent British view that ‘all foreigners are beastly to animals, cos,… well ...they're foreign, aren’t they?’

Wild Boar

Although not native to Malta wild boar were introduced in ancient times for hunting, and thrived. They continue to thrive despite the loss of habitat. They are a nuisance to farmers and a nuisance when they charge down the streets of small towns. The herd is managed and licences are issued to cull the excess.

Wild boar stew

Some wild boar is game-y, some less so. This example, stewed in red wine and surrounded by puréed cauliflower was of the game-y variety. Well-cooked and tender, I enjoyed it very much.

Most restaurants will offer steak, too, if you want to spend money, but lamb and pork exercise menu writers far less. Even chicken only puts in an occasional appearance.

Fish and Sea Food

For an island nation, the Maltese do not seem that interested in fish. Occasionally dourada or swordfish appear on menus, but the ever-presents are sea food such as prawns, lobsters. mussels, octopus and squid. Prawns and lobsters are largely corralled in the starters section, where we no longer go as we cannot eat a starter and a main course (one of the joys of getting older!) or among the pastas.

My friend Brian suggested I should try sea urchin with pasta, as he had been amazed that they bothered to collect and then cook anything so insubstantial with so little flavour. I would have given them a go, but found they are only available September to March and we visited in April.

Mussels

Mussels are much more familiar and, as elsewhere, can be starters or a main course depending on portion size.

Mussels

Lynne enjoyed these moules marinière which we extremely large and fleshy. They came with the inevitable frites.

Squid

Squid is always popular and the usual Maltese way with is to slice up small squid and fry them in tempura batter.

Battered squid, Marsaxlokk

Lynne ate her squid on the dock at Marsaxlokk. It was fine, she said, but there was just too much of it.

Octopus

Octopus with Garlic is the Rabbit Stew of the sea, i.e. it is on every menu and usually right at the top. We both tried it, Lynne in Valletta, me in Marsaxlokk.

Garlic Octopus, Marsaxlokk

We both thought the garlic could have been more assertive and although I would not want rubbery octopus, I would have preferred a little more texture. I suppose the quantity of garlic and precise duration of cooking are matters of personal preference, there is no one ‘correct’ way to cook an octopus (though of course, I am right).

Desserts

I have admitted that we cannot manage starters any more, sadly the same is often true of desserts. But here are a couple we enjoyed.

Halva Ice Cream

Halva was not much in evidence anywhere else, but it did turn up in an ice-cream. Densely textured and very sweet, it was sumptuous rather than subtle.

Halva ice cream

Imqaret

A traditional Maltese dessert of spiced date paste, in a triangular pastry case, deep fried and sprinkled with chopped nuts.

Imqaret

There are more traditional Maltese desserts and I would happily do further research on this subject.

Snacks and Light Lunches

Pastizzi, Ftira and Arancini

(Thanks to Wilson and Norma without whose advice we might easily have missed pastizzi completely.) A pastizz is a traditional savoury made by folding filo or puff pastry round ricotta cheese or curried peas.

Two pastizzi, one peas, one cheese

The ricotta version is excellent, but the real star for me were pea pastizzi. Dried green split peas are boiled almost to a mush with a little onion, garlic and mild curry powder, enfolded in pastry and baked. From such simple ingredients comes one of the world’s finest lunchtime snacks. They are extraordinarily popular throughout Malta, costing €1 each in Valletta or €0.60 on Gozo.

Ftira is a small ring-shaped bread, but in a café ‘ftira’ means such a bread filled with tuna (in our case) or sardine, tomato and more. Given the quality of Maltese bread, ftira are predictably, a delight.

Arancini at the front, ftira on the plate behind

Arancini, as the name implies, are Italian (specifically Sicilian) but are widely available in Malta. They consist of a filling, we chose ham and cheese, inserted into a ball of rice which is breadcrumbed and deep fried.

Ham and cheese arancini

It looks good, but was the least interesting of these three, perhaps because of our choice of filling; wet cured ham and ricotta cheese hardly pack a flavour punch.

A Salad

Cafés are not abundant in the citadel of Victoria, the unofficial capital of the island of Gozo. 21st century commercialism would jar against the old stones, though doubtless there was plenty of crude commercialism in the citadel’s heyday. There are, though, a couple of restaurants, and we found our way to one - via two flights of stone stairs and a circular staircase – and ordered a sharing salad.

A sizeable platter of cheese, tomatoes, onions, olives and capers soon arrived. It looked impressive, and once we had poured olive oil all over it, it tasted wonderful. The salad, though, raises two issues not covered hitherto, bread and cheese.

Sharing salad, Gozo

Bread

Maltese bread, with a crisp crust and firm interior, was uniformly excellent and may be the best bread we have encountered. French baguettes are superb – or were before they started adding preservatives to make it last longer – the black breads of the Baltic states, spread with garlic butter, bring back fond memories, but neither quite match the Maltese. It is not only excellent, but versatile - it even toasts well.

Cheese

Malta has few cows – they need too much space – so most cheese, including that in our salad, is made from sheep’s milk. Some of the cheeselets can be seen to be covered in something dark. These are speciality known as gbejniet tal-bzar – cheese rolled in crushed black peppercorns and matured for few days. We bought some earlier to try at home.

Gbejbiet tal-bzar

I thought the cheese was better without the pepper, others may disagree.

Drinking

Wine

Palatino Merlot

We drank Maltese wines almost exclusively. Most Valletta restaurants provide a short list of wines at €22 - €28 (they retail at €7 - €9) covering the usual grape varieties.  Quality wines are designated DOK (Denominazzjoni ta' l-Oriġini Kontrollata) Malta or Gozo depending on origin. Most lists also offer a selection of more expensive cuvées but we did not venture there.

Ulysses Shiraz

The Palatino Merlot, was a soft fruity wine, easy drinking and very pleasant, but their Sauvignon Blanc was a little disappointing, falling uncomfortably between the New Zealand and French styles. We drank the Sauvignon Blanc with lunch by the harbour in the seaside village of Marsaxlokk where our disappointment was eased by prices dropping from the Valletta range to a pleasing €12 - €15.

Marsovin’s Caravaggio Chenin Blanc, unlike Caravaggio himself, was too well-mannered and could have been spikier. Their Ulysses Shiraz (POK Gozo) was excellent. Rich with tannins it was well armed to take on my wild boar.

Beer

The most drunk beer in Malta is Cisk, which can be see in several of the ‘light lunch’ photos above. It was not a beer I enjoyed much, being somewhat short of flavour and not particularly refreshing, but it was cheap. The same brewery (Farsons) produces Hopleaf Pale Ale which has more flavour and a pleasant bitterness. There are also several craft beers which could be explored.

And Finally...

A Michelin Starred Pig’s Ear

The day we travelled to Malta, we were up at 2.30, caught a plane from Manchester at 7.00 and arrived in Malta on time at 11.30 (with a +1 hour time change). After a little difficulty first locating our prebooked complimentary taxi, and then our apartment block (we had been given the wrong address) we were dropped off at 12.30. There was no reception and no way to get in until we were provided  with the key codes, promised between 2.00 and 3.00.

Tired, hungry and thirsty we dragged our suitcase to Market Street which, our homework had suggested, would be full of restaurants. It was indeed, the pedestrianised street had covered decks by the roadside at the bottom end and further up a line of plastic ’tents’ down the centre.

We reached the first deck, saw the word ‘snack’ on the menu outside, climbed aboard and sat down. We made our choices, turned over the menu and saw the €125 set menu with a flight of matched wines costing much the same. We had apparently strayed into Michelin star territory while in search of a lunchtime snack. Never mind, an obliging young man took our order for a sharing plate of Serrano ham, a bottle each of Sarson’s Hopleaf Pale Ale, a big bottle of water and two pig’s ears.

We waited some time, but eventually our beers arrive, as did the water (which had becoming increasingly important) and the bread and olive oil without which no Maltese meal can start.

A further wait ensued before the ham arrived. In Michelin star style it arrived, not alone but with a bowl of olives and a little offering of fishy paté.

Serrano Ham, Bread and Olives, Grain Street, Valletta

After some pleasant nibbling we were starting to feel better physically, but time had moved on and neither our key codes had arrived, nor our pig’s ears.

Years ago, I would regularly enjoy a day’s walking with Brian, Francis, Mike and whoever else was available. Brian would always turn up with a greasy paper bag containing two deep fried pig’s ears he had bought at the dog food stall in Stafford market. He threw them to the fittest and most eager member of our group, Francis’ dog Dino, who crunched them up with relish.

I have eaten pig’s ears myself (as has Brian) not from the dog food counter but in restaurants in Portugal. We agree that there is a porblem with them; inside every bite there is a strip of cartilage, just like there is in our own ears, and it is not pleasant. So why had I ordered them? Bravado? Stupidity? I don't know.

Michelin stars are not handed out for nothing and we were at Grain Street, one of Malta's three such restaurants. The pig’s ears that finally arrived were sweet and porky, the blobs of tarragon infused mayonnaise a lovely accompaniment. And the cartilage? I do not know where it went, but I found myself pondering whether it had removed by butchery, cookery or wizardry.

Pig's Ear, Grain Street, Valletta

I should have ordered one between us, but we finished the two and felt replete. But 3 o’clock had passed and we still had no key codes. I called our contact number and found the phone switched off, a second number went to voicemail and I left an anxious message. We wondered what we should do if we had been scammed (despite using a major booking company) and there was no apartment. Then my phone rang, there was no apology, but the promise of an immediate Whats Ap message, and a few minutes later our problems were over.

Pressure off, we were able to acknowledge how much we had enjoyed our Michelin starred snack. It cost a lot for  a snack, but it served as our main meal for the day, making it a bargain. We picked up some bread, salami and a bottle of wine in a convenience store, found our apartment and relaxed after a long and occasionally stressful day.

In Conclusion

Malta produces, meat and seafood dishes, pastries, salads, desserts and wines of high quality. Enjoy them. If, however, you don’t like their food, no worries, you can exist on pizzas and burgers….

…but, if that is how you feel, why not consider staying at home. Malta, like Venice, Amsterdam, the Canaries and others is struggling under the pressure of too many tourists.

Kochi (or Cochin), Not Really a Free Day: Kerala and More Part 2

A Folklore Museum and Lunch with an Old Friend

Breakfast at the Tea Bungalow

India

Kerala

We slept reasonably well given the time change and our unusual day yesterday and had a leisurely if routine breakfast. Chef’s South Indian Special was only available ‘later’ (if and when he turned up?) so we settled for masala omelette, watermelon juice and fruit (watermelon, banana and pineapple).

Breakfast at the Tea Bungalow
A good omelette is not hard to find in India, but the bread is too soft, too white and too sweet

A Little Orientation

Kochi, (formerly, and often still) Cochin is a city in the state of Kerala on the west coast of southern India. It has a population of 680,000 and is the centre of a metropolitan district with 2.1 million inhabitants.

The city sprawls across a section of Kerala's fractured coastline which constructed itself from the silt brought by the many rivers flowing down from the Western Ghats. Behind the coast is a vast maze of waterways known as the Kerala Backwaters.

Kochi with places relevant to the post indicated in red

Kochi consists of three main parts. The tourist districts of Mattancherry and Fort Kochi sit on a peninsula, while across the water is Ernakulam, the working city. Between them is Willingdon Island; 6km long and 2km wide, it was built in the 1930s by dumping the silt brought up by dredging the harbour.

Kerala Folklore Museum

Since our cooking exercise had been ‘preponed’ we had a blank day, but we had use of the car, so our plan was to visit the Folklore Museum, as recommended by friends Wilson and Norma, and afterwards we had a lunch engagement a little deeper into Ernakulam.

The streets of Kochi, well the one outside the Tea Bungalow.

Sasi turned up on time, as we knew he would. The journey was less than 10km, but even well after peak time it would take a good half hour.

The Kerala Folklore Musuem

The museum building does not look special from the side. Although clearly older than the surrounding structures, it lacks the low eves and slatted windows of traditional Kerala constructions. The front, though is entirely different, but difficult to photograph, or even see in full. It was made using parts from 25 traditional building, and showcases all three of Kerala’s traditional architectural styles, Malabar, Cochin and Travancore. Construction took 7½ years and involved 62 traditional carpenters, but I find the mixture of styles confusing – not that my opinion is important.

The front of the Folklore Museum

The museum was founded by Jacob V. Thaliath, who was joined by his son George when he left university 35 years ago. It was not the career George intended, but it has become his life’s work and he admits to being obsessed – but in a good way. He travels all over the sub-continent acquiring objects and researching their origins and meaning.

Crossing the threshold, it is obvious the museum is the work of an enthusiast who wants to display every wonder he has found. The objects are crammed together, sometimes on top of each other, but almost all are labelled with place of origin, material and date.

Inside the Kerala Folklore Museum

Anywhere else this portrayal of multi-armed Durga with her expressive face yet strangely dead eyes would have a spotlit plinth to herself, but here she jostles for room with depictions of the bull Nandi (the vehicle of Shiva), and ornamental elephants. Durga is an avatar of Parvati and her vehicle (every Hindu deity has a vehicle) is a lion or tiger or sometimes a magical blend of the two. Her name means ‘impassable, invincible and unassailable' and she is associated with protection, strength, motherhood, destruction, and wars. She also slays demons, so it is unwise to stand in her way.

Durga

This Garuda is smaller, but no less flamboyant. An eagle/kite-like bird he is the vehicle of Vishnu. but is also a god and protector in his own right. He can be represented in zoomorphic form, or, as here, in anthropomorphic form. In his left hand – almost omitted from the photograph (sorry) is the jar of Amrita, the Nectar of Immortality created at the Churning of the Ocean of Milk (the story has a post all of its own).

Garuda

Shiva is often represented by his lingam, but here is a bronze muckhalingam, a penis with a face. I make no further comment. I doubt it was made to fit into the early 20th century bronze prabhavalli, (translated as ‘aureole’ which it is not, quite) but here artefacts go where they fit.

A lingam with a face, Kerala Folklore Museum

A glass painting from Tanjore is an example of an unusual artform from southern Tamil Nadu.

Tanjore Glass Painting

Kerala’s Christian heritage is also well represented. This Guardian Angel seems to have a slightly Roman look. Tradition states that Christianity was brought here by the apostle St Thomas, but Southern India had strong trading links with Rome, which is in the same general direction…

Guardian Angel

…while this group of Christian figures hits a more general European note.

Christian figures

We spent some time in the museum before inspecting the gift shop and the auditorium on the top floor. The museum is recommended in the Rough Guide and is well worth a visit, though it is outside the usual tourist area.

The LuLu Mall

It was too early for lunch and Sasi wanted to show us the LuLu Mall, in a more affluent but untouristy part of Ernakulam, so we let him.

The entrance is on the ground floor of a multi-storey car park with a clearly marked ‘drop off’ lane as if they expect customers to be brought by their drivers – as. indeed, we were. We waited for Sasi to rejoin us before passing through security where I promised to put my camera away. They would rather I did not take it in at all, but security guards are humble, underpaid, servants, so when a wealthy(ish) European makes a promise, they do not to argue. I felt obliged to keep my promise, so no photos inside.

Inside, we had coffee with Sasi, then he suggested a meeting time and left us to it.

The centrepiece on the ground floor is a LuLu Supermarket. We had come across these in affluent Oman, where every town has a large, cool, very tidy, very clean LuLu. This was the first we had seen in India, but apart from the stock reflecting local tastes, it was as large, cool, etc, etc as any in Oman.

No photos here, but this is a Lulu supermarket in Salalah, Southern Oman

Carrying our purchases we left the supermarket and toured every floor of the mall. Each shop was bright, and tidy, and selling varied, high quality merchandise. I cannot imagine a cleaner, more affluent-looking mall exists anywhere in the world. The only problem was the absent customers; few in Kochi can afford to shop here and we had the place to ourselves.

LuLu, who own the whole mall, not just the supermarket, are Abu Dhabi based and have over 200 supermarkets mostly nestling in Asia’s wealthier corners, but the company is owned M A Yusuff Ali, a native of Nattika, just 75km up the coast from Kochi. They have five ‘hypermarkets' (three of them in Kerala) and several malls in India. The company sees great scope for growth here, but it seems slow getting off the mark.

The Mall was conveniently close to our lunch venue in Seaport Airport Road.

‘Are you having lunch with Thomas Matthew?’ Sasi asked as we arrived. I was a little surprised, but obviously Pioneer drivers talk to each other. Then we saw Thomas walking towards the Restaurant wearing a new blue shirt.

Thomas Matthew

This is our seventh Indian trip, the fourth to Kerala and the south. Six of those trips have been organised by Pioneer Travel of Kochi, one of them via a London based travel agent, the others booked direct.

Lynne and Thomas buying coconuts to drink, near Hassan, Karnataka 2010

I negotiate an itinerary with Pioneer who then book it and provide us with a car and a driver. All five drivers employed or sub-contracted by Pioneer have been excellent, but Thomas Matthew, who drove us on our second trip in 2010 (pre-blog) stood out. His self-taught English was better than most of the professional ‘English speaking’ guides; and not only could he speak, he could listen. We have encountered guides all over the world who know their stuff and can communicate well enough, but when asked a question, respond with either a baffled expression or a confident answer to a different question. Listening is the hardest linguistic skill, and Thomas can do it. He is well informed about India and elsewhere, and his thoughtful, moderate opinions on a variety of issues are worth listening to.

Visiting the shipbuilders, Calicut, Kerala

We got on so well we started to think of him as a friend, not just a driver. We kept in touch after returning home and made sure he was our driver on our next southern trip in 2016 (those posts start here). When travelling we usually lunched together because Thomas can unfailingly pick the right restaurant in an unknown town. Maybe it was against the rules, but it was a win-win situation. Thomas got a free lunch, I paid far less for three such lunches than for I would for two in a tourist trap, and we ate real local food, not dumbed-down tourist fare.

Lunch with Thomas, near Udipi, Kerala 2010

We remained in touch, and we would have asked for Thomas this year, but he has left Pioneer and is now a self-employed tuk-tuk driver. ‘It’s little money,’ he said, ‘but we get by.’

Above Vazhachal Falls, Kerala, 2010

We ate biryanis and chatted for an hour. He seems content with his new situation, no longer being away from home for two weeks or longer. Thomas is a devout Christian and takes comfort in his faith. I stupidly failed to take a photograph – but I have previous, lunching with people we do not see often and failing to take pictures is my unwanted superskill.

Lynne, Thomas and a pearl spot for lunch, near Kollam 2016

We went outside for final goodbyes, giving Thomas and Sasi a chance for a chat. ‘One of the best,’ said Sasi as we drove away. During lunch Thomas had said ‘You’ll be fine with Sasi, he’s one of the best.’ And indeed, he is and we were.

And just for balance, lunch with Sasi, Mysore 2024

Chez Thomas. 2016

In the 2016 post Kochi, a Second Visit, we had lunch in Ernakulam – another biryani - and then went to the airport, but that is not quite what happened. Before going to the airport, we went home with Thomas who had earlier invited us to meet his wife Mary and sons Daral and Dennies. This was strictly against company rules, so he asked me not to mention it. Now he no longer works for Pioneer I have his permission to tell the full story. This section will eventually migrate to the 2016 post.

Thomas lives in a village not far from Kochi Airport. It feels very rural, though Kerala is densely populated and towns and their facilities are nearby. The surroundings are very green; the monsoon rains dump ample water from May to October to keep Kerala verdant all year round. The average daily high is around 30° throughout the year, the minimum 24° which would suit me fine in the dry season but I would struggle with the humidity during the monsoon.

Village Street

Thomas owns his own house and several family members live nearby. He had recently bought a shiny, new tuk-tuk to bring in some money in the rainy season when there are no tourists.

Thomas on his doorstep (with his tuk-tuk to the right of the building)

And here is the family. Thomas and Mary with Daral, then just started at university, and Dennies, two years younger, and just finishing school. There is food on the table because, of course, guests must be fed. Our thanks to Mary for an excellent chicken curry.

Mary and Thomas with Daral and Dennies behind

And here we are with the family. Both boys have since finished university, Daral works in Kochi and Dennies is busy seeking the right opportunity.

Everybody

It is a rare privilege for travellers to be invited into people’s homes. Our thanks to Thomas and Mary for their hospitality, and to the lads for putting up with the sudden arrival of two elderly foreigners.

‘Wine Shop’

Returning to 2024… Sasi drove us back, pausing en route at a so-called ‘wine shop’ (they sell little or no wine). Back in 2016 Kerala was flirting with a form of rolling prohibition, now thankfully abandoned. Drinks licences remain difficult to come by, but there is a network of proper liquor shops with government fixed prices. For our nightcaps we acquired a bottle of Chennai distilled ‘Old Monk’ rum and a Bangalore Whisky that owes little more to Scotland than its wonderfully bizarre name: MaQintosh.

Pakoras

After a good lunch we only wanted a snack in the evening. Our hotel had a restaurant with a full menu, though no other diners, but we thought it would be alright for a snack. We perused the menu and ordered something from the youth who seemed to be in charge. He disappeared into the kitchen and after a few minutes returned to say our choice was unavailable but would we like a plate of pakoras? ‘That would be fine,’ we said, and it was – when it arrived, 40 minutes later.

Two other diners who came in after us were less fortunate. They wanted a full meal and were brought menus. After due consideration they placed an order. The lad disappeared to the kitchen and after a while came back with the message that their choices were unavailable. They had a rethink and made another order, again the lad went off and again returned with the same message. It was perfectly obvious that there was no chef, just a pakora fryer, because his next words were ‘would you like a dish of pakoras? Why the elaborate charade? Why was there no chef? I was glad we were leaving in the morning.

Kerala and More

Part 1: Cooking the Kerala Way
Part 2: Kochi: Not Really a Free Day
Part 3: Kozhikode (Formerly Calicut)

and much more to come