In the rapidly evolving foodscape of Assagao, one Cafe has grown quietly, rooted in memory and heart. The Goan steps into Jackfruit Tree Cafe, where one man’s return home led to the creation of a soulful space rooted in memory, simplicity, and honest Goan food
In a fast-changing Assagao where new restaurants sprout like mushrooms, Jackfruit Tree Cafe stands quietly in Mazal Vaddo, authentic, grounded, and full of heart. It is a space born out of necessity, love, and a desire to create something truly Goan.
Savio Andrade didn’t set out to open a cafe. After a stint in Dubai’s bustling hospitality scene and an early start as a trainee waiter at the Taj, his career seemed headed abroad. But life had other plans. When his father fell seriously ill with Alzheimer’s, Savio returned to Goa.
“I needed to be home,” he says simply. “And while I was here, I decided to build something in the garden.”
That “something” would grow into Jackfruit Tree Cafe, a down-to-earth eatery known for its honest food and warm, rooted vibe. “Looking back, I think it was my dad who brought me home,” Savio reflects. “A friend once said, ‘Your father has blessed you abundantly.’ I believe he did.”
There was no grand plan, just the idea of serving traditional Goan food in a modest setting. “A little Goan breakfast place with poie, eggs, choris, home-style food, nothing fancy,” he says. But as word spread, so did the menu. Assagao was changing too. “When I started, there were just five restaurants. Now there are over 30,” he adds. “You can’t stay stagnant. People’s tastes evolve, and you’ve got to keep up.”
The cafe’s name came about serendipitously in conversation with a neighbour. “I told him I had no name yet, and he just said—call it Jackfruit! And it stuck,” Savio laughs.
Savio began small, doing everything himself, from cooking and marinating to serving and cleaning. “It was tough,” he admits. “But I didn’t want to depend on anyone. Too many opinions can mess with your head. I realised I had to trust myself.”
Gradually, he trained a small team and expanded the cafe and its offerings. His food strikes a balance between comfort and creativity. Breakfast starts with good coffee, smoothies, and juices, thanks to a solid investment in a quality coffee machine. The eggs and omelettes are followed by a standout item, the “village breakfast,” organic eggs with roast beef, keema, pork, or chicken cafreal, served with Goan curry. “That’s one combination people really love,” he smiles.
The menu offers something for everyone, Goan staples like xacuti, vindaloo, beef roast, butter garlic prawns and fish, as well as vegetarian options like avocado toast, organic poached eggs with chana bhaji, vegetable xacuti, and rajma rice with a tangy tendli pickle. “That pickle is sourced from the neighbourhood. It really brings the dish together,” he notes.
Ingredients are thoughtfully sourced, organic eggs from his own backyard, poie from a nearby bakery, and Goan sausages from a local vendor. “People ask where I get my poie, it’s better than most places,” he says. “Even the sausages come from the village.”
Running the place hasn’t been easy. From financial strain to staffing issues to moments of self-doubt, Savio has faced it all. “In the beginning, my mother helped a bit, but I had to figure things out on my own,” he says. “I started experimenting with online recipes, mixing and matching, learning through trial and error. Now I don’t seek opinions, I just look at the people eating.”
As Assagao evolved, so did Savio’s confidence in his own style. “Earlier, I’d get affected by comparisons. But now, I just do my thing. Most cafes here are run by investors. They haven’t put their heart into it,” he says. “People say this place reminds them of what Goa used to be 20 years ago.”
He’s also kept the space inclusive, especially for pets. “It’s pet-friendly. People feel comfortable leaving their pets while they eat. It adds to the vibe,” he says.
Now, five years in, Savio is thinking ahead. “This place has grown beautifully. It can run on its own now. Like raising a baby, you nurture it, and then it grows. I want to start another place someday, but this time I’ll need a partner. Running a business solo is tough. With a partner, you think better.”
And so, Jackfruit Tree Cafe continues to grow, rooted in one man’s story, shaped by his father’s memory, and sustained by a quiet resilience that feels increasingly rare in today’s Goa.
