The vindaloo has a special place in the hearts, bellies and minds of us Brits even though it’s origins lie much further afield. It’s historical basis comes to us originally from the Portugese, who fuelled their empire building with casks filled with pork and preserved in vinegar and garlic. “vinha d’alhos” is portugese for garlic wine and has no link to the hindi aloo (potato) that often (mistakenly) gets added.

The Portugese hit Goa’s shores in the early 16th century and it was then that the local indian population added their spices into the mix. The deep redolent flavours of the dish that comes with the fenugreek, cloves and garlic, set-off against the sourness of tamarind pulp & vinegar, enhanced with a knock-out hit of chilli makes it a favourite dish of mine. It is not the machismo of the heat that makes it so special but the mixing of two different continents approach to cuisine – an original culinery mashup that still works four centuries later that makes it a cultural and gastronomic heavyweight.

Vindaloo is more than a dish. Vindaloo is more than macho posturing after the pub. Vindaloo is more than a football chant. Vindaloo is the poster boy of multi-culturalism, it is what it is to be British today, with roots in imperialism & empire, a history of assimilation and adaption, a melting pot of ingredients and techniques.

This post documents my investigations into the ultimate vindaloo recipe. This is v0.1 in that journey.

Serves 8

Sauce Ingredients

• Red onions x 4
• Garlic (4 cloves)
• Ginger (5cm piece)
• Kashmiri chillis x 3
• Turmeric (2 tsp)
• Cardamon (8 pods)
• Cumin seeds ground (1 tsp)
• Coriander seeds ground (1 tsp)
• Mustard seeds (2 tsp)
• Cloves (8 cloves)
• Black peppercorns ground (1 tsp)
• Fenugreek (1 tsp)
• Red wine vinegar (half a cup)
• Tom puree (big squirt)
• Soft brown sugar (2 tsp)

Other ingredients

• Red onion x 1
• Chicken breasts x 8
• Vegetable oil
• Coriander bunch
• Cup of water

I threw the red onions in the oven with their skins on and roasted for about an hour. Peeled off the rough outer layers and put in a blender with all the other sauce ingredients and blended to a chunky gravy consistency.

Chopped the chicken and spooned over a couple of spoons of the sauce and mix and left to marinate in the fridge overnight.

Finely chopped the red onion and softly fried in a large frying pan with the vegetable oil, added the chicken and cooked until sealed. Added the rest of the sauce and slow cooked with the lid on for an hour.

The verdict: Good, although I think the ginger overplayed its hand and it was a little too sweet. Perhaps needed some more garlic. The heat level was spot on, hot without any
discomfort. I couldn’t find any tamarind in time so missed out on some of the sourness and this probably added to the sweetness.

Next time to use tamarind and find some ghee to replace the vegetable oil.