Archives for May 2020

Lobster Caldine: Lobster simmered in a coconut milk gravy infused with turmeric, coriander, cumin, chilis and vinegar

Mother’s Day has traditionally been an action-packed weekend for my family with fun dance recitals, graduations and parties to attend all over town. But not this year. For the first time I can remember, our weekend was unusually wide open. With this quiet time on my hands, I found myself thinking of my mother and missing her cooking more than ever. Vivid memories of her Goan Caldine (Kahl-deen), a mildly spicy coconut-based seafood stew, kept coming back to me.

Back home in Mumbai, my mother’s kitchen was her happy place. It was the only place she was truly in her element.  The entire apartment building knew my mother was cooking up a storm when she hand-crafted her exotic Indian spices on her well-seasoned tava (skillet). I remember coming home from Sunday school starving for a snack. The fridge was tucked in the corner of the kitchen and getting to it was like an obstacle course. I had to squeeze through mom and her gas stove to get to it. I’d find her hunched over sitting on the most uncomfortable wooden seat fitted with a crescent-shaped iron blade grating coconuts like her life depended on it.  I have no idea how she ever had the patience to do this by hand. Huffing and puffing she would sway back and forth angling those coconut shells just so, to get every bit of that white flesh out. Then she’d gather up the coconut into cheesecloth and give it a firm squeeze, wrangling out every drop of coconut milk. After adding a bit of warm water to the cheesecloth she would squeeze it again with everything she had left in those tired arms to get the second and third press of milk.

The entire process of making this creamy, coconut seafood stew seemed daunting to me. And yet just thinking about it made me feel closer to my mom now that she has passed on. I decided it was time to try to make mom’s Goan Caldine in my kitchen with my kids, Sophia and Justus.

Before I go on, I need to set the record straight here: I went rogue and did not hand-grate coconuts. I had to keep things as simple and safe with my three-year-old son Justus involved. So I made peace with opening a couple of cans of coconut milk instead. Sorry mom!

I texted Corey Pottle a friend of ours who is a local lobsterman to see if we could buy some fresh lobsters off his boat. We agreed to meet up on the east side of Boothbay Harbor where he docks Brandy’s Girl. I splurged and bought a half dozen, pound-and-a-half lobsters from him and his brother, Brian.

On the way home, my husband Guy suggested we boil the lobsters in briny water right off our community dock. So, we swung by the garage, grabbed a bucket, some yellow rope and headed down to the dock in his red-pick up. Without any hesitation Sophia got out of the truck, grabbed the rope, got down on her knees and tied a firm bowline knot onto the red bucket. Her time at sailing camp sure came in handy! We all watched intently as Guy sent the bucket over the railing.

Now, it’s time to fess up. We’ve lived in Maine for over a decade and never cooked a lobster at home. It’s just always seemed way too easy to order them steamed and ready to go from our local lobster pound. I knew this was going to be quite an interesting evening for us.

Back in my kitchen, I transferred the pristine, Damariscotta river water into a large pot and got a roaring boil going on the stove. Sophia threw in a lobster and based on the horrified look on her face, that may have been her first AND last time ever cooking a lobster. Thankfully Guy came to her rescue and got the job done. While the crustaceans cooked and cooled down, the kids and I toasted some shredded, unsweetened coconut, coriander and cumin seeds along with a handful of Tellicherry black peppercorns and Kashmiri red chilis in a dry cast iron skillet. In that moment, I felt like I was standing next to mom again watching her pan roast her intoxicating Caldine spice blend on a Sunday afternoon.

As soon as the spices cooled down, we ground them up in my spice grinder. I added the aromatic mixture into some coconut milk and blended it into a thick, savory coconut smoothie. Caldine gets its signature bright yellow hue from a heaping spoonful of yellow turmeric powder. I knew Justus would get a kick out of adding it in, so I handed him the miniature silver spoon in my masala dhabba (an Indian spice container), and watched his eyes light up as he did the honors. Meanwhile, like a seasoned sous chef, Sophia turned on the stove and added the coconut milk to the thick coconut paste in her favorite blue Creuset. With her trusty wooden spoon, she gave it a gentle stir while I shucked the lobsters over the kitchen sink.

In Mumbai, we never had access to lobsters. Mom always made her Caldine with either fish or shrimp. She would always buy an extra handful of shrimp from our fishmonger Kamli because she knew it would not be enough with me around. I would eat all the shrimp on my plate and then scour the pot and everyone else’s plates for another helping. I can still hear her say to me, “Cherie, you better marry a fisherman when you grow up!”

I gently added in the tender lobster claws, tails and legs. As the Caldine simmered away, the creamy, coriander-scented coconut gravy made me weak in the knees. I know mom would agree that these Maine lobsters really took her savory Caldine to the next level. The anticipation for our Caldine lobster dinner was building up. I made up a batch of steamed Basmati rice while the kids ran into the garden to pick a bunch of daffodils for the dinner table. That evening as we all savored the lobster Caldine together, I decided that this should be the beginning of a new tradition for the Scott family. We had so much fun from start to finish and the best part was it gave me a chance to reconnect with my Portuguese-Indian (Goan) heritage, cook with my kids and share stories about their grandma, the best home cook.  If you decide to give it a go, here’s our family recipe. (Feel free to skip the coconut grating!) But please do toast those whole spices as this secret step releases the essential oils. And if you are in Maine, do indulge in lobsters if you can. The succulent, sweet tender meat definitely elevated this iconic savory Goan dish to dreamy status.

Corey Pottle, a friend, neighbor and Boothbay Harbor lobsterman on his boat, Brandy’s Girl.

Sophia tying the Bowlin knot on our bucket.

Pristine, briny Damariscotta river water to cook up our lobsters.

Sophia and Justus checking out the crustaceans.

Sophia hard at work shuckin’ some Maine lobstah!

Mise en place for Lobster Caldine, Part 1.

Dried Coconut infused with turmeric, toasted and ground coriander, cumin, Tellicherry peppercorns, Kashmiri Red chillis and coconut milk.

Gorgeous Daffodils from our garden.

My sweet boy, Justus, with a single daffodil for his mommy.

My kids, Sophia, Justus and our labor of love: Mom’s Lobster Caldine.

My gorgeous mother (check out her dimples), me ( I think I’m 2-years-old), Karen (my sister) and my handsome Dad (check out his sideburns) back in our little apartment in Bandra, Mumbai, India.

When I heard Chef Floyd Cardoz lost his battle to Covid-19 on March 25 I was shocked and felt a wave of deep sadness for his two sons, Peter and Justin; his wife, Barkha in New Jersey; his mother, Beryl, along with extended family in Bandra, Mumbai and his restaurant teams based in Mumbai and in New York City. I immediately texted my friend, Chef Melissa Kelly, owner of Primo, an award-winning ‘full-circle’ kitchen in Rockland Maine, who was at a loss for words. A few minutes later she sent me a text,  “I’m cooking Indian food to honor Floyd, can you be involved somehow?” I was so touched.

Chef Kelly had eaten at Tabla and the Bombay Bread bar and was a big fan of Chef Cardoz.  She was taken with his kindness, hospitality and the amazing food. She went onto share how he had brought Barkha and the kids to dine at The Old Chatham Sheepherding Company when she was executive chef there and won her first James Beard award for Best Chef, Northeast in 1993. “I admired him and his cooking for a long time,” Kelly said. “My first time meeting him. He was a kind, gentle soul with whom I connected instantly.” Sadly, they never cooked together.

I never knew Floyd. I never had the opportunity to dine at any of his restaurants but somehow he touched my life. I realized that we had quite a bit in common. We were both raised in Mumbai, in a bustling burb called Bandra, about 15 minutes from each other. I greatly admired his brother Kim Cardoz who was a fantastic local musician. I had never even heard of Floyd back in Mumbai, nor did I realize that he and Kim were brothers, until I heard of Floyd’s passing and read the numerous articles about his incredible career. I learned he originally went to college for Biochemistry and soon realized that the coat he truly wanted was the chef’s coat, not a lab coat. He had his sights on getting out of Mumbai and moving to New York and working with the best chefs in the world. He set his eyes on and attended one of the finest hospitality schools in the world, Les Roches, located in Switzerland, and soon found his way across the Atlantic to the big apple working for famed chef Gray Kunz at Lespinasse.

Back in 1997, he was the first Indian chef to elevate Indian cuisine with his smash hit restaurant, Tabla, in partnership with Danny Meyer from Union Square Hospitality Group.  One of my biggest regrets was not getting to eat at Tabla when I lived in the city. I was a college student back then at the American Musical Dramatic Academy, living on $3/day, and eating at Tabla was not in the cards.  But just knowing it existed gave me a sense of quiet pride. Thanks to Floyd’s hard work and passion, Tabla was more than an Indian restaurant, it was a statement to the world that world-class Indian cuisine had arrived in NYC!

In the following weeks after Floyd’s passing, I felt compelled to learn more about his life and career. I read hundreds of tributes and articles about Floyd. But it was one article on plateonline.com, written by a close friend of the Cardoz family, food writer Jacqueline Raposo, that deeply resonated with me.

“My heart breaks remembering him (Floyd) saying that his ideal “last supper” would have been his mom’s xacuti and Barkha’s saag gosht…,” Raposo writes.

I shared this quote with Chef Kelly who totally got it! Her mom’s eggplant Parmesan is legendary in her book!

We both knew Chef Kelly had to make the Xacuti in Floyd’s honor.

I felt inspired and took a stab at making my first chicken xacuti in my Maine kitchen while Chef Kelly decided to make her version showcasing Primo restaurant’s prized pork instead.

So, here’s to you Floyd Cardoz, in your honor, a dish close to your heart. Thank you for shining your light on your Goan culinary roots and Indian heritage. We are celebrating your life and legacy this week in Maine.

Goa Xacuti (pronounced SHA-koo-ti))

An iconic celebrated Goan dish bursting with complex flavor profiles of toasted ground coconut ? infused with spicy red ?, coconut vinegar, star anise, coriander, cumin, cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, fennel, Tellicherry peppercorns, turmeric, garlic, ginger, bay leaves, curry leaves, tamarind paste, onions, potatoes, ? oil and fresh cilantro.

?Back in Bandra, my mom would labor for at least two hours over the xacuti prep after mass on Sundays or on special occasions. She hand-grated the coconut ? using her old-fashioned grinder, no short cuts. Then she would toast the fresh coconut flesh on her tava (skillet) with whole spices and then grind it all up mortar-pestle-style. Lunch was always a late one. I’d hover around mom in our tiny shoe-box of a kitchen asking over and over again in anticipation: “I’m hungry, is it ready yet?”

Years later, in my kitchen, it seems like nothing’s changed…xacuti still takes patience and time (minus hand-grating the coconut) and I do believe it tastes better the following day! There’s something magical about the warm melange of spices resting together overnight that must take it to the next level. I still find myself hovering around the pot as the aromas get more intense. Only now it’s my two kids, Sophia and Justus, who impatiently ask, “Is the Xacuti ready yet, mommy????????”

I am so thankful to my Aunt Claire for sending along our family Xacuti recipe all the way from Dona Paula, Goa.