Some Saturday nights, you just want to shake things up a little. Do something different. Not just sit around watching yet another football match with the lads who, at this point, care more about their fantasy league points than actual human interaction. So, in a fit of spontaneity (or mild existential dread), we decided to head to North Goa. No plan, no reservation, just vibes.
And somehow, as if the universe was guiding us with a benevolent yet slightly mischievous hand, we ended up in Aguada.
Now, if you haven’t been to Aguada in a while, let me tell you—it’s changed. Gone are the days when you could just wander in and explore. No, now there’s an entry fee to get inside the interior of what was once the Aguada Jail. I mean, who would’ve thought that after years of trying to avoid jail, we’d willingly pay to get into one? But there we were, wallets out, because at this point, curiosity had taken over.
Once inside, we were met with two dining options. On one side was Motley Brew, which looked like the inside of a fever dream—music blaring, people dancing, drinks flowing. It was either a very elaborate private party or the kind of place where you’d walk in and somehow end up with a new best friend, a lost wallet, and an invitation to a yacht party you’d regret by morning. Tempting, yes, but not the vibe for the evening.
Instead, we chose Black Sheep Bistro. Because sometimes, you want an experience that doesn’t feel like a night out in Ibiza but more like an elegant, well-lit affair where you can still hear yourself think.
The first impression? Nice. Classy. The kind of place that makes you sit up a little straighter and pretend you know things about wine. The lighting was just right—not so dim that you needed a flashlight to read the menu, but not so bright that it felt like a hospital cafeteria. The walls were dotted with eclectic paintings, the kind that make you want to lean in and say, “Hmm, interesting,” even if you have no idea what’s going on.
Now, onto the important stuff—the food and drinks.
We started with the signature garlic bread because you can tell a lot about a place by how they handle something as simple as bread and butter. And let’s just say, if garlic bread was a love language, we’d be fluent.
Next came the burrata salad—fresh, creamy, and delicate enough to make you feel momentarily virtuous before diving into whatever deep-fried deliciousness comes next.
For drinks, the cocktail menu was exciting. Like, the kind of menu that makes you question all your previous life choices and wonder why you’ve been drinking the same old gin and tonic for years. We ordered the Theek Mirsang cocktail, which turned out to be a delightful concoction of feni, pineapple, jalapeños and more. This was not for the faint-hearted. The first sip lulled us into a tropical daydream, all smooth and citrusy, and then—bam!—the jalapeño kicked in, bringing just enough heat to remind us we were drinking something bold, something that meant business. It was the kind of drink that playfully smacked you on the back and said, “Come on, have another sip.” And we did.
Now, the 75 Dry Rub Chicken—this was the starter you order thinking you’ll just nibble, only to find yourself in a committed relationship with it by the second bite. Perfectly crisp on the outside, juicy on the inside, and coated in a rub so flavorful that we briefly considered asking the chef for the recipe (or at the very least, the ingredients). It had that addictive quality—the kind where you tell yourself, just one more piece, only to realize you’re reaching for the last one while your dining companions glare at you. Worth it.
But let’s take a moment to appreciate the real genius of Black Sheep Bistro—the cocktail names. Each one a playful nod to classic Goan surnames, making you feel like you were about to sip on the liquid essence of a local legend. The Negroni D’Costa, The Desai Old Fashioned— probably someone’s grandfather’s favorite drink. The Naik Feni Sour—a clever Goan twist on a classic, making feni the star of the show. And the Coriander Paes—because nothing says Goa like a cocktail with coriander in it. It’s the kind of menu that makes you smile before you even take a sip. And once you do? Well, let’s just say, you’re in for a good night.
Dessert was, of course, the Basque cheesecake. Because, let’s be real, no matter how much we claim to love “trying new things,” when it comes to dessert, we all just want something comforting and familiar. And this one did not disappoint—rich, creamy, with that perfect caramelized top that makes you wonder why you don’t eat cheesecake every single day.
The atmosphere? Delightfully mellow. The music was set at the perfect level—not the kind that makes you shout across the table, but just enough to add a little je ne sais quoi to the evening.
After dinner, we decided to take a stroll and soak in the surroundings. We walked right up to the edge, hoping to get a glimpse of the fort, only to be met with a firm “No entry beyond this point” sign. A bit of a letdown, sure, but after good food, great drinks, and a night of easy conversation, who were we to complain?
As we left, full and pleasantly tipsy, I realized something: spontaneity can go one of two ways. It can either end in disappointment (a flat tire, a terrible restaurant, a rogue karaoke session you regret instantly), or it can lead you to unexpectedly brilliant places.
Black Sheep Bistro? Definitely the latter. A night well spent. A meal well enjoyed. And if nothing else, a reminder that sometimes, the best plans are the ones you don’t make.
Honest Reviews 