To mention the Andaman Islands is to evoke the smell of salt on the breeze, the eternal beat of waves that caress the shores of abandoned beaches, and the rocking motion of fishing boats which, for centuries, have delivered their catch at dawn. For the tourist, the sea's promise is not just in the scenery of cobalt water and coral reefs but also in the cookery shops where the sea, made over by the local cooks, is a cuisine of flavours.
Port Blair, the gateway to these isles, may appear at first to be little more than a junction for arrivals and departures, yet linger for an evening and the town begins to reveal its own character¡ªits markets alive with the chatter of vendors, its streets dappled with bougainvillaea, and its restaurants that serve the catch of the day as if it were a story freshly told. It is here, in this port town, that a traveller in search of truth is most likely to discover a seafood restaurant in Andaman Islands, Port Blair, where crabs are displayed on platters like gifts to the gods, and lobsters come to tables still retaining the flavour of the sea breeze.
The ambience of these places is different from the groomed restaurants on the mainland. In place of chandeliers, lanterns gently bob in the breeze; in place of impeccably groomed waiters in formal attire, you are greeted by islanders whose people skills are as warm and relaxed as the sun in Andaman. Every dish has a story to tell: grilled reef fish that has been marinated with the mildest of spices, prawns that are mixed with chillies and garlic until they warble with flames, or a simple fish curry flavoured with coconut milk that remembers centuries of maritime trade among these islands and faraway lands.
Travellers tend to talk about food as if it were a thing apart from the journey, a respite between outings. But in the Andaman Islands, to eat is to become a part of the culture, for here the sea is not merely landscape but lifeblood, not so much scenery but sustenance. The best seafood restaurant in the Andaman Islands is not necessarily the most imposing but the one where ingredients are nearest to the tide, where recipes have been passed down in hushed words and practised fingers, and where every meal tastes like a communion with the sea itself.
In Port Blair, there is one such restaurant quietly located along the water, not fancy in its furnishings but with a dedicated clientele of travellers who come back year after year. They do not come for show but for the authenticity of the flavours that refuse to conform to the homogenisation of tourist menus. The tiger prawns, which are served sizzling, are a revelation, while the crab masala, devoured by hand, demands the kind of patience that turns a meal into a ritual.
The Andamans, by nature, defy the crammed itinerary. They demand of the traveller a slower pace, a focus on detail, and an openness to listening to the whispers of the past that ride the tide. And perhaps nowhere is this more clearly seen than at the table, where the freshness of recently caught fish, cooked with nothing more than integrity and craft, becomes a connection between worlds.
