Some midsummer mornings in the Goan village of Betim began with the sound of a pestle grinding against the worn striations of an old mortar. My maternal grandma (Nani) would be up early, pounding sun-dried piri-piri with rock salt and garlic, a whiff of pungency curling through the air, tugging us from sleep.
As teens, this was the cue for my four siblings and me to run across the road and try to pluck a rare fruit growing in odd sizes on the tree opposite our cottage. Slightly larger than a coconut, with mottled pale green skin like an oversized custard apple, it wasn’t easy to grab. We’d wait for the owner to disappear before making a move, though Aunty Ida in the flowered gown would often spot us and pretend to go inside, secretly amused by our thrill-seeking ways.
Breadfruit, or Neer Fanas, is one of those few indigenous fruits still found across Southern India and the Konkan coast, but rarely grown commercially. Its more popular cousin, jackfruit, takes the spotlight for its versatility. But breadfruit? With its starchier texture and distinct flavour, it has an utterly different personality. This is one ingredient that behaves like a vegetable and surprises you once you know what to do with it.
A Buried Treasure
There’s a far deeper lineage to breadfruit than simply being an obscure, micro-regional fruit.
“It is a tropical plant that spread from Southeast Asia all the way to Madagascar in the west and the east coast of South America — and this was between 3,500-1,500 years ago,” explains archaeologist and culinary anthropologist Kurush Dalal. “In India, it’s mostly grown in the South, around Karnataka and Kerala, with a sprinkle along the Konkan coast.”
Dr. Ashwini Krishnamoorthy, from Varanashi Farms in Adyanadka, Dakshina Kannada, expands on its growing conditions: Breadfruit belongs to the jackfruit family and begins bearing fruit within two to three years. It needs well-drained soil with good moisture retention and plenty of sunlight. In her region, it grows well in the coastal and Malnad areas, but won’t thrive in hilly or dry zones.
According to a research study by the Department of Food Production, Faculty of Science and Agriculture, University of the West Indies (Source), breadfruit (Artocarpus altilis) belongs to the Moraceae family. This genus includes about 50 tree species. It has long been valued as a major source of carbohydrates, especially in tropical regions. Nutritionally, both the fruit and seeds offer a wealth of benefits: carbohydrates, protein, dietary fibre, fatty acids, provitamin A, potassium, calcium, ascorbic acid (vitamin C), niacin, and iron.
“It’s essentially a starch substitute,” Dalal explains. “Eaten as Kaap — fried slices of the raw fruit — it takes on the spice profile attached to it and is almost a tabula rasa, with very little flavour of its own.” In many coastal homes, these slices are shallow-fried and served alongside rice, dal, or fish curry. When ripened slightly, it develops a stronger, almost nutty character, though it also becomes stringier and the seeds harden. “Fermenting gives you a very sour profile in Southeast Asia,” he adds, pointing to the fruit’s culinary range across regions.
While it hasn’t received the same agricultural or commercial spotlight as jackfruit or banana, breadfruit’s nutritional heft might be reason enough to rethink its role in the Southern Indian culinary archive.
Neer Fanas: Fried, Curried, Forgotten?
Breadfruit goes by many names. In India, it’s Neer Fanas in Goa and Maharashtra, Jeegujje in coastal Karnataka, Seema Panasa in Andhra Pradesh, and Kadachakka or Sheema Chakka in Kerala. Across Southeast Asia, it’s Rimas; in the Pacific Islands, Ulu and in parts of Africa, influenced by Portuguese trade, Fruta Pão. Whatever the name, this starchy fruit has long held its place in humble kitchens, especially along India’s Western and Southern coasts.
Neer Fanas oxidises quickly — once cut, it browns almost immediately. It’s typically used before ripening, when the flesh is firm, neutral, and ideal for absorbing spices. The narrow window between harvest and spoilage makes it tricky to cook in large quantities, hence the commercial inviability.
My Nani would smear a spice paste of chilli, turmeric, coriander, lemon, and oil onto thick breadfruit slices, dip them in semolina, and pan-fry them in an inch of pure coconut oil. The tropical, wafting aromas are still mesmeric to this day. We’d eat it smooshed into boiled, salted Goan red rice with lashings of the red garlic chutney she had ground earlier that morning.
In Dakshina Kannada, Dr. Ashwini Krishnamoorthy shares that they use it in all kinds of curries — sambar, white sambar, subjis, and even bajjis. When fully ripe, it’s used to make papads, like jackfruit. She calls it “Maybe even tastier than potato!”
In Karnataka, it’s also made into Jeegujje Palya — a dry stir-fry with mustard seeds, curry leaves, and coconut. In Kerala, Kadachakka Curry, mild and coconut-rich, is a staple. Chef Thomas Zacharias, co-founder of The Locavore, recalls how common it was in South Kerala homes, especially Christian Nair households. His favourites are “the chips, sliced thin and fried — and the stir-fry called Karachakka Mezhukuparatti, with coconut oil, curry leaves, and red chillies.”
Saee Koranne-Khandekar, author and menu consultant, highlights its seasonality: “The Neerphanas bears fruit around late summer and is available for harvest through the monsoon. In some homes, it’s traditional to make Kaap for Ganpati. After that, availability drops.” As a recipe developer who loves rethinking traditional ingredients, she also enjoys using raw breadfruit in non-traditional ways. “It’s meaty and neutral, so I like using it in dishes like Tehri — it’s actually quite simple once you prepare it.”
Breadfruit Gets A Glow-Up
But how is breadfruit being preserved and reimagined by new-age chefs in experimental or fine-dining kitchens?
A couple of moons ago, I found myself at a collaborative meal hosted by Chef Rahul Gomes of Jamun Goa in Bombay. Known for interpreting Goa’s most traditional dishes through a modern lens, one of his courses showcased breadfruit three ways. “The most common way to cook breadfruit is to fry it,” says Gomes. “But as I sat looking at the tree full of fruit across from my home, I wondered — what else could celebrate this ingredient’s potential?” That question led to a mousse made from aerated breadfruit, lightened through a syphon and finished with a hint of truffle. Crisp, shatter-thin breadfruit chips added texture, perfect for dipping.
At Farmlore in Bengaluru, where hyperlocal, ingredient-led menus are the norm, breadfruit has made its way into an inventive taco. Chef and partner Johnson Ebenezer recalls being inspired by a dish created by Darren Teoh at the two-Michelin-starred Dewakan in Malaysia. “We cooked and mashed the breadfruit, mixed in just a bit of flour, then shaped it into a flatbread-style taco,” Ebbey explains. “The vegetarian version was topped with banana and jackfruit; the non-veg version paired beautifully with Banur lamb.” Sometimes, the same mash also becomes a textural contrast to the meat in plated courses, elevating the fruit far beyond its humble roots.
Back in Goa, at Petisco in Panjim, breadfruit gets a seasonal twist. Founder Pranav Dhuri serves a Breadfruit Fritter crowned with roasted Tomato kasundi and a piquant Lacha Salad. The breadfruit is slow-roasted, pulled apart, spiced, mixed into a rough mash, and coated in semolina before frying. “It’s something we only do when it’s in season,” Dhuri says. “Once breadfruit is out, we swap it with madi — but the idea is the same: to treat local produce with both familiarity and flair.”
What was once stolen from a neighbour’s tree now sits plated under spotlights, proof that even the most forgotten fruits can find their place at our table.
Nikhil Merchant is a Mumbai-born lifestyle and luxury writer who strives to seek the exploratory moods of life through his nonchalant mind. He can be found on Instagram @nonchalantgourmand
The A–Z Ingredient Guide is ELLE Gourmet India’s monthly series celebrating the rich tapestry of regional Indian ingredients — and the many ways they’re cooked across homes and cultures. Each month, we explore a new ingredient. Stay tuned and 'C' you next time.