As dusk falls on Fontainhas—Panjim’s ‘Latin Quarter’—a small crowd gathers around a cart parked outside the home of the late historian Percival Noronha (currently the premises of Alliance Française). In a small space on the ground floor of the terracotta-hued building, Samir Nayak and his wife Janabi Godinho are busy setting up for the evening. Oil is sizzling in a large wok and a mountain of snacks waits to be dipped into it.

“We’ve been serving snacks here for over 15 years,” says Samir. They have taken over from Janabi’s god-father, Tony Godinho, who began the business. The couple, originally from Odisha, moved to Goa 18 years ago. Now, their three school-going daughters often step in to help on busy days.

And most days are busy. After the children are dropped to school (including their five-year-old son), the couple sets out at 9 am to purchase fresh beef and chicken. “We need about 10 kg beef and 10 kg chicken breasts every day,” says Samir. If beef isn’t readily available, they have to look for alternate suppliers or purchase about 15 kg of chicken breasts instead. “Everything is so expensive now,” says Janabi. “Even tomatoes cost ₹100/kg. It’s not easy, but we manage.”

The rest of the day is spent preparing the snacks at their home in Santa Cruz, a village 3 km from Panjim. In the evening, they bring the snacks to the city on their two-wheeler and cook to perfection on the spot, ready for loyal Goan customers and eager tourists.

There are beef samosas shaped into perfect triangles. Deep-fried beef or chicken cutlets tucked into pockets of fresh pao with a simple side of salad. Uniformly rolled croquettes, giant spring rolls, and the beloved Goan potato chop stuffed with mince. Everything is sold out by 9 pm.

This is perhaps the only ‘gaddo’ in Panjim that serves such meat-based street food. Snacks like this are staples in Goa’s villages. But in the capital city, with licenses no longer given by the municipality, these carts are slowly dying out. Samir’s and Janabi’s cart is one of the few you’ll find in this corner of Panjim, where old recipes are still alive, and worth jostling hungry crowds for.