“Have a magical day and night,” reads the sign at the entrance of Cifa Bar in Panaji, the capital of the coastal Indian state of Goa. Set among the narrow lanes and colonial architecture of the city’s Fontainhas neighborhood (Latin Quarter), the bar is small, just one long narrow room painted green, decorated with an altar with a crucifix and advertisements for various drinks. It’s not the type of place for dinner, though there’s chakna, typical Indian drinking snacks, like dried prawns and gizzard fry. But it’s magical in its own way: It feels like stepping into a sepia-tinged time capsule — except for Camila Cabello on the speakers.
Cifa is one of the city’s classic Goan tavernas, locals’ spots that once served a mostly male clientele, providing a safe space to drink (generally frowned upon in public), talk politics, and maybe play a little matka (a numbers game) or bet on a bullfight, both technically illegal. Some version of these bars has existed for centuries, and excise records from the late 1700s show they spread widely under Portuguese colonial rule.
“These tavernas came up as an egalitarian space, with prices affordable to their largest clientele [daily workers],” says Panaji local Atish António Fernandes, owner of two of the city’s modern tavernas, Joseph Bar and Miski Bar. Tavernas are simple spaces, usually a room attached to a house, with a few benches and a bar — no fussy decor, no fancy tableware. They’re functional places, though strict unspoken rules of etiquette keep anyone from disrespecting the space by belching or throwing peanut shells on the ground.
Historically, tavernas shaped themselves around local industries: a taverna at the marketplace for porters, one near the fields for farm workers, one near the beach for fishermen, and so on.
“These were spaces for [workers] to grab a quick drink on their way home and socialize a little,” says Hansel Vaz, owner of Cazulo Premium Feni, and a tavern enthusiast.
And they primarily served feni, a local spirit distilled from cashew apples; those serving other drinks needed a bar license. This made them an integral part of local drinking culture, but also vulnerable to shifts in taste. In the 1980s, as IMFL (Indian-made foreign liquor) edged out feni and state policies encouraged other types of bars and restaurants, tavernas fell out of fashion — until recently.
Despite dire prognoses for tavernas even just a few years ago, folks like Fernandes are giving local tavernas modern makeovers, introducing live music, expanded food menus, and inventive feni cocktails. (Vaz points out that some venues are technically bars, not tavernas, because they sell all kinds of spirits, but they still proudly evoke the taverna’s historic legacy.) Key to the comeback is the taverna’s role as a third place, providing a shared space for quiz nights, cricket match screenings, and games like carrom. Younger Goans, like me, visit them for nostalgia’s sake, but also to socialize and interact with the community. And while tavernas once attracted a local crowd, tour groups like Soul Travelling and the Local Beat are making them more accessible to visitors too.
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These days, there’s nary a tourist to Goa who doesn’t visit Joseph Bar. It’s become a regular fixture on must-hit lists and a darling with influencers, who love the vintage decorations and characteristic Goan touches. Fernandes — who spent his teen years pre-gaming at the original Joseph Bar before going on to study at Institute of Hotel Management in Mumbai — took over the 86-square-foot space in Panaji’s Latin Quarter in 2016, sparking the taverna revival that has spread throughout the state.
“I wanted to create a casual place with a good vibe that didn’t require an air conditioner or a dress code,” says Fernandes. He also wanted to attract customers who would normally spend their nights out in livelier towns nearby like Assagao. “I want everybody to feel like it is their place.”
Joseph Pereira opened the bar in the 1970s and it became well-known for its choris (Goan sausages). The business was leased out in the ’90s and was looking for a new tenant in 2016, when Fernandes got the reins. At a time when most new bars marketed themselves as classy and pristine, he leaned into peeling paint and exposed walls, outfitting the space with old mirrors, porcelain plates, vintage clocks, and large garrafões (jugs used to store feni). Though the only remnants of the old bar were a few stools, Fernandes sourced items he thought would recreate the bar’s glory days.
Seating is limited — just 28 covers — and people spill out onto the street. Barman Gundu is a star attraction, handing out roses and sweet-talking customers into feni-based house drinks like the signature Tambde Rosa, a cocktail incorporating the mangosteen-like kokum. The food menu is short, a combination of homestyle snacks and Goan dishes like cafreal (a spicy herbaceous chicken dish), liver fry, assado (beef or pork roast), and vindalho (spicy, tangy pork curry). A short walk from the bar, Fernandes is already building on Joseph’s success with Miski Bar, another old taverna he revived in 2022.
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Anant Shirodkar grew up in Candolim, a seaside town that has transformed from a quiet village into a tourist hub.
“I’ve seen how people are destroying our old Goan buildings to put up new concrete structures that take away the history and charm,” says the former design engineer.
In 2018, while driving through Assagao, a gentrified village in the north widely considered the trendiest destination in Goa, Shirodkar came across Vijay Bar, originally established in 1968, and learned the owners, the Pednekars, wanted to lease it out. He and a friend, Terence De Mello, took over a bar to open Pablo’s.
The duo kept the essence of the original 65-year-old taverna, including the window where bartenders hand drinks to folks sitting outside, a small balcão (balcony), and the structure’s low roof, which creates a homey atmosphere. They sourced decor from their own homes, like old bamboo blinds and a mirror from Shirodkar’s grandmother, along with chairs from scrapyards. Initially, they recruited their mothers to do the cooking, serving homestyle dishes like mutton xacuti (a coconut-heavy curry) and beef croquettes.
“It’s not about how fancy your place is, but about its character,” says Shirodkar. “We want to give people a better drinking experience, showcase local stuff, and keep things affordable.”
Today, the team has expanded to include both of their partners, Rea Burman and Vanessa Lopes, as well as mixologist Tejas Pore. The food menu now consists mostly popular bar bites (beef nachos, popcorn chicken), but it’s in the drinks where Pablo’s really shines: Beyond an extensive selection of liquors, many of them local, the bar serves signature drinks like a passionfruit paloma alongside off-menu beauties like the Liquid Curd Rice (white rum, pineapple, mustard, curry leaves, chile, and curd) and Pastel De Nata (whiskey, custard, vanilla, and cinnamon).
Over the years, Pablo’s has hosted bar takeovers by wine and spirits brands and events like Diwali parties. The space has evolved fluidly too, at one point including a skate ramp out back.
“Mainly we love working with our friends and showcase things we personally love,” says Burman.
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The first thing you notice at Cajy Bar is a sign proudly proclaiming its birth year. The small taverna began life in Arpora, a small village with easy access to Goa’s northern beach belt, in 1970 under the hand of Caitano Domingos Fernandes, who eventually passed the business to his son Damiao, who ran the place until his death in 2010. The family rented out the bar until the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, when Damiao’s wife, Filu, and children, Eli and Evelyn, decided to restart the business. The new Cajy Bar, launched in late 2021, was initially a bit smaller than the original, with just three tables.
“We didn’t expect too many customers, thinking only family and some friends would drop by,” says Eli. But the reopened bar quickly became popular with neighbors, who spread the news by word of mouth.
The family outfitted the no-frills space with reused decor: crates for chairs, old baskets for wall hangings, and stacked tires for tables. Drinks are reliable but unfussy; in place of fancy cocktails, which most new bars served at the time Cajy opened, the family opted for a self-service model, allowing customers to mix their own drinks. Filu, who used to run a food cart, has attracted praise for her homey Goan cooking, including signatures like aad maas (pork on the bone), tongue roast, choris pao, and beef croquettes.
These days, the place is usually packed with regulars, so reservations are recommended. Conversation and music compete for airwaves, there’s always a game of cards or carrom going on or a cricket or football match on the big screen, and pets are welcome.
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In 1967, Peter D’souza opened Peter Tavern out of his home in Ucassaim, a quiet village in northern Goa. A few years later, he went abroad to seek better prospects with his son, Francisco, leaving behind his wife, Conceicao, and daughter, Angela. The two women banded together to run the place for three decades, stopping it only when Angela’s daughter, Ninoshka, was born in 1995. They shut the bar but kept the liquor license until 2021, when after Peter returned home from abroad.
“My father was coming home because of COVID. We thought let’s launch a modern tavern, a space that is welcome to everyone,” she says.
The family still lives in the house, but the bar has spread to take over the front yard. It’s sparsely furnished, with indoor and outdoor seating, and a carrom table. The food touches upon familiar bar snacks in Goa: chonak (Asian sea bass), squid, and prawns cooked a few different ways; chicken or beef chile fry; and fries. There are no cocktails, but plenty of straight liquor.
Ninoshka is a fixture, making drinks, serving folks, and always ready for a short chat with customers. The place is usually packed with regulars, who share conversations across tables, and pets roam around freely. There are also regular holiday celebrations and quiz nights too.
“In my conversations with people, I have realized people want a space where you can bond with your neighbor at the next table and make new friends,” Ninoshka says, “[a place] that treats you like family.”
