We set out on a Sunday morning in search of brunch, lured by the siren song of high Zomato ratings and glowing Swiggy reviews. Fika, they said. A name whispered with reverence, as if brunching there would instantly elevate us into Goa’s café-hopping elite.
What we found, however, was… well, less divine revelation, more extension of hotel lobby. Fika lives inside Minimalist Hotels, and it does exactly what it says on the tin: minimalist to the point of feeling a bit like a sterilized lounge.
There’s an upper deck with a few tables and executive chairs, and downstairs a “Last Supper” style bench arrangement in the centre that screams communal dining, except no one’s sharing secrets of betrayal—just omelettes and beers. The rest of the seating sits groups of fours and sixes.
Still, optimism intact, we gave it a fair shot. The Fika Full House Brekkie landed with two chicken sausages, mushrooms, hash browns, some veggies, and an omelette. Perfectly decent.
The omelette and bread did their job without fuss, and that was that.
The Greek Souvlaki Chicken pizza followed, which, to be fair, was rather good—crispy, balanced, and the sort of thing you’d happily polish off without complaint. The Vanilla affogato was brisk and efficient, though not quite the soul-lifting espresso-meets-ice-cream collision you dream about.
Then came the bill. And here, dear reader, is where one’s eyebrows begin their northward ascent. Three hundred+ for a pint of Budweiser beer, at a coffee shop no less. Outlandish doesn’t even begin to cover it. Somewhere in Scandinavia, a minimalist architect probably smiled smugly, but my wallet did not.
The saving grace? Maya. The server with the kind of warmth, grace, and natural charm that money can’t buy. She glides about with an infectious smile, making you feel less like you’re in a clinical lobby and more like you’re welcome in her own living room. In truth, she’s the sort of person who keeps places like this alive.
So yes, Fika is… fine. Average in food, slightly shocking in pricing. But it has Maya, and for that reason alone, I’ll give it a cautious yes—with the hope that one day the seating softens, the prices loosen, and Fika finally lives up to its glowing reputation.
Honest Reviews 