Chorizo fires up pulao from Goa

It begins its journey as a large hunk of boneless pork. A sharp blade gashes its surface, creating deep cuts that will let the generous sprinkling of salt seep into the crevices of the meat.

A day later, the diced meat is rinsed and left to dry out under the hot sun. Only then can it be seasoned with a fiery mixture of ground chiles, spices, vinegar and feni, a liquor made through the natural fermentation of either the cashew apple fruit or palm sap. This seasoned sausage is then filled into casings, once again dried before it makes its way to the market. This is the humble beginning of the hot and spicy Goan sausage.

Goan sausage is sometimes referred to as choriz or chorizo in India. You might be wondering: How did something like chorizo — or a version of it — come to India? You often won’t hear of pork outside Goan or in Indian Christian communities, and it’s even rarer to see it on the menu of an Indian restaurant.

Chorizo is one of the many ingredients brought to India by the Portuguese when they landed on Goa, a region on the western coast of the country. Vinegar was an important preservative used by Portuguese sailors, and often foods such as meat were packed in large barrels with spices like garlic and vinegar to help preserve them during the journey. These same sailors brought spices like the piri-piri chile peppers and introduced pork to the locals.

As the Portuguese established a colony in Goa, they converted the locals to Catholicism, and over time these new customs and ingredients became a part of the Goan people and their dishes, including the famous vindaloo and sorpotel (two types of curries typically made with pork, vinegar and chiles).

There is no particular way to eat Goan sausage. You could sauté it with onions and peppers or use the meat to stuff into naan. Unfortunately, Goan sausages are practically impossible to obtain in the Bay Area, and even most Indian restaurants don’t make the sausage because it is such a regional cooking ingredient. (I have an aunt in New Zealand who after a couple of years decided to start making her own at home; you can bet that is something I hope to learn from her the next time I visit.)

So, here in Oakland, I use Mexican chorizo as a substitute in most of my Goan dishes. It gets close enough to the taste, and if I want a bit more heat, I usually toss in a hint of cayenne or a hot chile powder. The addition of vinegar is key for that bright acidic note that helps to draw out the flavor of the spices.

This pulao is a hybrid of two different recipes from my home. One is my grandmother’s, made with a puree of bright red tomatoes and fresh prawns, and the other is one that my mom makes every time she has a bunch of sausages in her refrigerator. But I find that the triple boost of savoriness — the tomatoes and the two meats together — adds a richness that makes the pulao memorable.

Photos by Nik Sharma Authentic Goan sausage, clockwise from top left, is nearly impossible to get in the Bay Area; this recipe substitutes with readily available Mexican chorizo; a pot of Prawn and Chorizo Pulao; thinly sliced tomatoes make a fine garnish for the dish,...