Are you looking for the most exquisite seafood known to man? Join us on a 700km pilgrimage along the Indian coast… by bike… to the heart of Konkani cuisine.

Suddenly, I know the pilgrimage will reach its destination.

We’re going to find the perfect Konkani meal.

It’s Diwali – the festival of light and new beginnings.  We cycle into Karwar just as the shops are shutting and families are decorating their homes with candles and flowers.

Even in the ‘winter’ months, temperatures on the Konkan coast are fierce. Most days in October, we cycle in 3O C heat; today peaks at 36C. Sunset is a balm, and we’re hungry.

I’m also half-drugged with anticipation. Since 2015, when I bought my copy of Karwar Cuisine, I’ve dreamed of coming to this seaside town. I’ve fantasised about being served Kaalva Dhabdhabe (curried oysters), Tisrya Suke (spiced clams) Bangadyachi Udid-Meti (fenugreek-flavoured mackerel curry) Kurlya Ambat (Crab curry). At home, I’ve cooked them all. My dream is to be served these dishes – cooked by a genius – with fish still wet from the Arabian ocean.

Standing outside the Swetha Lunch Home restaurant, I know I’m coming home.

For Indian restaurants, this is the busiest day of the year and busiest shift – and the Swetha Lunch Home is full to the gills with foodie Indian families – but they will have space for us. Of course they will.

The full-size, permanent altar feels like an appropriate level of devotion for the sacred task of feeding fish to people.

Inside the beautifully lit hall that leads into the tables, there’s a full-size, permanent altar built into a mini temple. I’ve never seen a holy space in a restaurant before, and it feels like an appropriate level of devotion for the sacred task of feeding fish to people.

I open the menu. It’s all there… of course it is. Prawns ghee roast; crab pepper fry; oyster rawa fry; pomfret curry; mackerel masala. And more.. pages of seafood heaven.

We order.

The crab comes to our table. We crack the delicate pincers, and pick out the soft white meat… as pearls of ginger and garlic scald our lips and fingers. It’s intoxicating. The oysters are shallow-fried in the lightest down of semolina flour. The flesh inside is so pure, so subtle, so virginal… you wonder if you’re eating some primal creature from the dawn of time. The prawn ghee roast does what it says on the tin, and marries waves of ghee with prawns. The result is so intense, so sweet you ask yourself if you should mentally re-file this crustacean as a dessert. I would cycle the entire Konkan again to eat this dish.

The flesh is so pure, so virginal… you wonder if you’re eating some primal creature from the dawn of time.

And on the first page of the menu, there it is, in black and white:

“Your search for the Authentic and Homely Karwari food is over. Sit back, relax and enjoy some good food with your family and friends. As a famous quote rightly says: ‘You don’t need a silver fork to eat good food.’ Simplicity is our mantra.”

I feel I was destined to read these words.

Our pilgrimage is complete.

We have eaten the most exquisite seafood in India.

And beyond?

Better than the most seductive paella? Better than the most fragrant seafood linguine? Better than the most unctuous bouillabaisse?

You can’t make the comparisson.

But what the Hotel Jineesh, Hotel Thimmappa and Swetha Lunch Home have taught me – it’s all about the fanatical Konkani focus on one fish. Konkani cuisine is the ultimate celebration of ‘less is more’. One fish, cooked alone.

Take everything else away – every surplus ingredient, every distraction – and you’re left with the sublime union of man and fish.

Fish and man.

For me, the Konkan is the magical space where the boundary blurs between the two: where fish walk on beaches, where boats have eyes, where discos pulsate underwater, where streets are fishing nets and where people walk on water.

Other countries ‘do coast’ brilliantly. Only India has invited me to forget the notion of land and sea as separate worlds – and discover one harmonious continuum.

Explore this magical place, and maybe India will give you… as it gave me… a glimpse of a new being: the amphibious man-fish that’s the Konkan.

The Konkan is the magical space where fish walk on beaches, where boats have eyes, where discos pulsate underwater, and where people walk on water.

We ask if we can see the kitchens, to witness some of the magic.

Not only do they agree, they serve us spoonfuls of dishes destined for other tables. It is overwhelming. The cost of our seafood feast for three people? £21. The price of a single plate in London

And going one step further, Sunil – front-of-house guru – is happy to go on video, and share step-by-step how the Swetha Lunch Home cooks some of their legendary dishes.

No matter how hard I try, I’ll never capture the intoxicating genius of this Konkani cooking in my own kitchen.

And that’s OK.

I wanted to taste the ultimate Indian seafood meal; this journey gave it to me.

My sincere thanks to Thomas, Jeffin, Das – and all the team at Kalypso Adventures – who made this possible.