On an autumn morning, we hopped on our rented bikes for a quick, refreshing swim at Patnem Beach in South Goa. The waves were calm, gentle, and inviting. The sun was bright enough that we didn’t have to squint. It was the perfect time to take a dip. As we rode back, reinvigorated and soaked, we stopped at a seemingly ordinary chai shop, its front flooded with parked bikes and scooters. As we entered, we realized nothing about this chai shop was ordinary.
A family-run establishment run by two Goan brothers (with no help from staff), this tiny (and seemingly popular) restaurant, to our surprise, had a certain quirkiness to it—brightly colored walls with posters and frames of many gods (of different faiths) and art arranged haphazardly, with solid, old-fashioned wooden benches and tables, alongside a massive antique glass-door almirah displaying freshly prepared buns and samosas. We were curious when we spotted diners eating round, puffy bread with some curry, so we decided to order it along with omelets and (of course) masala chai. Just as we were admiring its charm and watching tourists and locals enter and place orders as if it were a daily chore, our orders arrived.
Our whole-wheat Poees—hollow (like pita bread) and perfectly soft, with a little crust on the outside—arrived. Along with them came piping-hot Chana Bhajji—a mildly spiced white-pea curry, delightfully and unusually cooked with freshly grated coconut. After breaking the bread with our hands and soaking it in the curry, we were convinced this was the breakfast spot that should be on the must-try list for anyone visiting South Goa. I later learned that this Goan bread is about 500 years old and was introduced by the Portuguese. Goans ferment the flour with coconut toddy, unlike the Portuguese, who preferred yeast—a unique local way to make bread.
While there are many bakeries in every nook and cranny of Goa serving this beloved staple, authentic and traditional Poee, this particular chai shop had a unique world of its own. Amid its desi, functional, and “not-so-aesthetic” ambiance, we spotted all kinds of people. From Israelis, Russians, Americans, and Brits to Indian tourists and Goan residents, the collision of languages, cultures, and energies was palpable. I think that, apart from food, what’s more charming and what draws tourists, travelers, and locals in is its 90s-bygone charm that it unambitiously exudes. This, along with the simplicity of the menu, which features a handful of authentic Goan dishes, complements each other perfectly. Tea shops like this also proudly stand at odds with the hyper-digital, ultra-modern, westernized, and fast-paced world we are living in.
We never imagined we’d want to devour a traditional Goan breakfast each morning on the trip, even with contemporary, more popular, and fancier options such as an elite, health-conscious, certified Banana Blueberry Smoothie and those Instagram-worthy Buddha bowls. But here we were, excited each morning to have Poee and Bhajji with our masala chai after our swims. Nevertheless, in this oddly beautiful little tea shop and its best-selling Poee, we found what Goa truly is.
