An in-depth look at a space that is more than just a restaurant; where one does not go purely for a repast of the stomach, but rather, of the soul
Venite’s graffitied walls are a love letter between the now (approximately) 85-year-old restaurant and its stream of loyal patrons
At age eighteen, one finds newfound freedom in many ways; the right to vote, get one’s own passport and of course, a driving license. Using said liberty, I set out to discover more of my home state and in the process, discovered one of my favourite places to just ‘be’, for culinary reasons and otherwise; Hospedaria Venite on Rua 31 de Janeiro in São Tomé in Panjim.
While my discovering the eatery was through the age-old tourist’s handbook, Lonely Planet, I have discovered over the past 12 years that this place isn’t your average tourist attraction. In here, one does not find the average domestic tourist clad in boxer shorts and a ‘banyaan’. It is a meeting place for many a local that knows of the secret delights the venue houses and the tourist that chooses to tread off the beaten path. For some, including yours truly, it is a place that ensures in the words of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, ‘mischief managed’ (thank you JK Rowling).
Venite has always served as an example of a very satisfactory gastronomic end product. From their pork chops prepped in one’s Goan masala of choice, to their prawn balchão that is just perfectly tempered atop a mound of steamed basmati rice, the food that is dished out by proprietor Luis de Souza and his merry band of helping hands always hits the spot. Luis is the man who makes the restaurant, however, and if one is really fortunate, during the sweltering heat of the mango season, one can share a seat with him in the restaurant’s quaint window seats and partake of a Mango Melba. It is difficult to tell what is more tantalising; the little chunks of mango surrounding a vanilla ice-cream island, perfect for beating the heat, or Luis’ banter about all affairs Goan, ranging from politics to local good-to-know gossip.
However, while the food is excellent, great dining experiences are made of so much more than merely good food. Excellent entertainment is the very hallmark of a good restaurant. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a musical performer or a stage art tucked away in a corner, but merely something that captures the attention and then retains it in a hypnotic trance. Does Venite deliver just that? Most assuredly, yes. They boast the exact same act that has enthralled it’s diners for years: their walls. Often we hear the phrase ‘if only these walls could talk’. However, at this quaint little restaurant, the walls are the diners’ canvas, and as such, they do speak and have many tales to share.
For most who dare to leave behind their sentiments, these walls serve as a little piece of history, a recording of a certain moment in time that immortalises the given state of a writer and the time he yielded his weapon of choice, be it marker, paintbrush, pen or my personally preferred choice, colour pencil. It is a place where many a broken heart has wept, where many an inebriated drawl has converted itself into a scribble, where many an aspiring author has phrased the vilest of limericks, where brushes and paint turn into murals and where a few star-crossed lovers may leave a note to their significant other to eventually meet there on a given date, once done bridging the distance that separates them.
All this and more is precisely why dining here is not about the food. There are memories and flashbacks that paper over every crack in the paint that has been laboriously hand-crafted by diners looking to set that moment in stone (or paint). Whilst newer, more clinically professional and perhaps (dare I say it) better restaurants emerge that are state-of-the-art in every aspect, the Luis’ and Venites of the world will remain immortalised in my memory. Once again, not for merely standing the test of time, not for being just another landmark restaurant, but primarily, for being a place of true Goan nature, where one does not go purely for a repast of the stomach, but rather, of the soul.
This piece was originally published on August 31, 2014