How to cook the perfect... vindaloo – recipe | Food (2024)

Thought to be a corruption of the Portuguese carne de vinha d’alhos, or meat cooked in wine vinegar and garlic, an authentic, tangy vindaloo tingles the tongue with pepper, clove and other spices, rather than the one-dimensional heat of chilli powder. So unless you’ve got a Goan specialist nearby, if you want to try the real thing, your best bet is to make it at home.

The Portuguese have long been big on pig, making vindaloo one of the few Indian curries that’s traditionally made with pork, though Lizzie Collingham notes in her fascinating historical survey, Curry: A Biography, that the British liked it better with duck – “and so do I”. Madhur Jaffrey also uses duck, noting that these “paddle freely in the thousands of flooded rice fields”, and that using poultry allows Muslims and meat-eating Hindus to enjoy it, too. Rick Stein makes his with shin of beef, “because it matches the beef in India, which can be pretty tough” (as well as relatively hard to come by, being a sacred beast to the country’s Hindu majority), while chef Cyrus Todiwala sticks with a mix of pork belly and shoulder, and Singh to pork leg, with a little of the bone left in for flavour.

Many recipes call for the meat to be marinated overnight, but the high vinegar content of the marinade makes this a risky business: the acetic acid can begin to “cook” the proteins in much the same way as citrus does in a ceviche, thereby rendering it tough. A few hours should do the job in the flavour department.

Whether or not you use it to marinate the meat before cooking, every curry begins with a masala, or spice mix – and in this instance chilli is not the principal ingredient. Though they all use slightly different combinations and amounts, all the recipes I try contain an array of what we might think of as sweet spices – cinnamon, cloves and cardamom – plus a hefty hit of black pepper, and the earthy, nutty flavours of cumin, coriander and turmeric. Chilli powder is generally added for colour, rather than heat, with Jaffrey recommending “bright red paprika” and Stein and Todiwala specifying Kashmiri chilli powder, sold under that name by Indian brands and remarkable for its brick-like hue. According to one Goan of my acquaintance, vindaloo is defined by its “beautiful, deep-red masala”, so be liberal with the mild chilli for maximum authenticity. Jaffrey and Collingham also use mustard seeds, which win points both for their pleasing texture and the little pops of bitter warmth they release.

Though the Portuguese would have originally used wine vinegar (or, some speculate, simply wine that had soured on the long voyage over), the dish was quickly adapted to the local palm vinegar, made from coconut toddy. Collingham notes that if you can get hold of it, “it will add a particularly Goan flavour” to the dish. I manage to source some coconut vinegar, probably made from coconut water, in an Indian grocers (many Oriental stockists may carry a Filipino brand), but as I’m reliably informed, “it’s really hard to find the legit stuff outside the state of Goa, let alone abroad”, I wouldn’t worry too much about hunting a bottle down. Singh uses a mixture of white and malt vinegar, and Stein white-wine vinegar, but the best substitute I find is Jaffrey’s cider vinegar, which has similar sweet notes to the coconut variety.

Todiwala, Stein and Collingham also add tamarind liquid, which is fruitier and less sharp than vinegar, and gives the dish a more rounded, less mouth-puckeringly acidic sour quality. I’m with Stein when he says that ready-made tamarind liquids seem to lack the punch of freshly soaked stuff; it’s not hard to prepare, after all.

The vegetables

Todiwala describes the dish as “a sort of meaty pickle, rich and intense in flavour”, which may explain the extraordinary number of onions in his recipe – but, in fact, their sweetness works brilliantly with the tangy vinegar and rich, slightly fatty meat. Much as I dislike chopping the things, it’s worthwhile labour here, especially if you can find the sweeter Indian pink onion; otherwise, yellow ones will work fine. Liberal amounts of garlic and ginger add to the chutney-like effect: rather than crushing them to a paste, however, slice them into thin rounds and strips as Singh suggests, so they don’t get lost in the whole.

Jaffrey, Collingham and Todiwala’s recipes all call for curry leaves, a highly aromatic herb that’s particularly popular in south India. They’re hard to come by here if you don’t have an Indian specialist nearby, though you may find them in larger supermarkets – if you do, snap them up, because they freeze pretty well, and will lend your dish a bright herbaceous flavour.

Finishing touches

Todiwala is of the belief that a vindaloo should be “sweet from the palm sugar, sour from the vinegar, and hot” – so don’t be shy to temper the sourness with a good spoonful of jaggery or soft brown sugar if you can’t find any. Season to taste and serve with something plain: basmati, pillowy flatbreads or, Jaffrey’s favourite, boiled potatoes and bitter greens. Lager strictly optional.

The perfect vindaloo

Prep 15-20 min
Cook 2 hrs
Serves 4-6

75ml cider vinegar
700g pork shoulder, cut into 3cm chunks
4 tbsp ghee, neutral or coconut oil
500g onions, finely sliced (about 4 medium onions)
60g tamarind pulp
10 garlic cloves, finely sliced
5cm thick length of ginger, cut into slim matchsticks
4 ripe tomatoes, diced
2-4 small green chillies
10 curry leaves (optional)
1 tbsp jaggery or soft brown sugar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp black mustard seeds

For the masala
2 tbsp Kashmiri chilli powder or paprika
Seeds of 8 cardamom pods
1 tsp black peppercorns
8 cloves
1 tsp cumin seeds
½ tsp coriander seeds
½ tsp turmeric
5cm cinnamon stick

Grind together all the ingredients for the masala, then stir in the vinegar. Rub into the pork and leave to sit for three to four hours.

Stir the garlic and ginger into the onions and cook, stirring, for another five minutes, then add the tomatoes, chillies and curry leaves, if using, and cook until the tomatoes start to break down.

Partially remove the lid and cook for another 30 minutes, until the meat is very tender and the sauce has thickened.

• Food stylist: Jack Sargeson