Goa’s forgotten orchata drink lives on in family kitchens | Food

Back at Ribandar, Eunice walks slowly through her garden, brushing the dry leaves of the kokum plant. At the mention of orchata, his wrinkled face broke into a smile.

He said: “I started drinking orchata when I was 20 years old and the whole family loved it.

It was not made in his house. His family gets the bottles prepared by the Coelhos from several shops in Panaji: Cappuccina Bar and Restaurant, Farm Products and Lija Camotim.

We shopped mostly in the summer, and drank a lot of ice water.

One particularly difficult summer, after giving birth to her first child, she remembers barely surviving the orchata. A few years later, his son-in-law found himself doing the same thing.

He said: “It had been almost 30 years since it was discovered. I craved the almond flavor and decided to try making it myself.”

What followed were years of trial and error. “I tried different levels, and after five or seven summers, I finally got it right,” he says, beaming. He laughs at the memory. He just wanted to taste the orchata he remembered growing up.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, demand grew unexpectedly, turning into a small, established business.

Eunice uses almonds mixed with cashews to improve her mood. Cashews, it is said, provide an attractive texture. They mix the concentrate with equal parts milk before diluting it with water to make it consistent.

Guilhermina Vas, Eunice’s friend and former partner, grew up in the Panjim area of ​​Altinho. Young and lively, he jumps into the conversation before Eunice can finish speaking, eager to reminisce.

His gold-rimmed glasses slide down the sides of his nose as he laughs. “Orchata is not for everyone. In my house, I was the only one who loved.”

Her neighbor, Dona Zenia, who lives two houses away, celebrates her birthday every year with homemade orchata.

“I was waiting for that day at Orchata,” he laughs. “My sisters, however, didn’t care too much.”

“Ice makes all the difference,” they all insist.

I ask Eunice what it feels like to drink orchata after all these years, what does it remind you of.

He said: “It makes me happy.

“Doesn’t it remind you of your mother?” Guilhermina asks.

Eunice plays under her glass. His smile fades, and for a moment his eyes twinkle.

“I immediately think of my mother, coming home in the afternoon after playing, asking her for a glass of horchata,” he says.

He pauses.

One glass was not enough.

It is said that his mother used to take a bottle that she kept in the family’s ice box and prepare a glass for him.

“It reminds me of simpler and happier times at home where I grew up in Chorao, across the river.

“When people drink, they often close their eyes.” It brings them back to their childhood, or 20 or 30 years ago, when their grandmother or aunt made it,” says Oliver. “It feels personal, connected to a memory, to a person, or to a moment.”

When people drink, they often close their eyes. It brings them back to their childhood

in OLIVER FERNANDES, GOAN KITCHEN

Sitting on Eunice’s balcony, it’s clear that orchata survives because of people who remember to make, serve and drink together. Recipes can also be made. The countries they belonged to cannot.

The older generation that held on to these recipes is gone, while the younger generations that adopted them left Goa in search of better economic prospects.

Group lines that once defined who could access certain ingredients have also changed. The ingredients that once seemed promising became available, and dedication gradually lost its appeal.

Goa who made orchatas has changed, too. Tourist attractions and rapid development have replaced resorts and blocks, changing the landscape of the beach and renovating once quiet villages.

On the river, a speedboat is passing by. Ribandar, with its pastel-hued buildings and winding streets, is slowly changing. Yellow tourist taxis ply its narrow streets. Old buildings are abandoned or converted into blocks of flats. And Orchata, itself, has been missing from family tables, too.

The history of the drink is much more layered than just nostalgia. In India, food is often weighted according to caste, and orchata is no exception. The ingredients, the time they were given, and the families they were associated with represented opportunity, wealth, and colonial connections.