The Vindaloo — Slight Return
Part Two: Recreating the Experience
As my cooking was developing, I tried many new dishes, especially from An Invitation to Indian Cooking. Although vindaloo was foremost on my mind, the book did not seem to be a recipe for it. Instead, I referred to one of the books I brought from home, The Art of Indian Cuisine, which included two recipes for vindaloo. “Ah ha!” I exclaimed. Now I am going to finally get my five-alarm vindaloo! If the restaurants were not going to make it hot enough for me, I certainly could try.
The recipe called for pork, but I’m pretty sure I opted for lamb the first time I made it. I have no recollection of the results of my maiden vindaloo, but I guess it came out all right. Most likely it was not hot enough for me; it only called for three-quarters of a teaspoon of crushed chili. Unlike other recipes from these books that I would try once but not repeat, I kept working on the vindaloo recipe. First step, more ground chili powder. Second step even more chili powder. But something was not quite right.
Eventually I figured out that, at least in restaurants, garlic played a large part in the vindaloo formula for and I should consider adding more to mine. I also began to marinate the lamb in a spice paste that I would freshly grind from my growing collection of spices. And speaking of spice pastes… While I had generally steered clear of bottled spice pastes, one day I found Patak’s Vindaloo Paste in a store. I bought it and tried to find a way to incorporate it into my evolving recipe which slowly had been improving. I hoped the paste would take it over the top. It didn’t, but it did add a new layer of flavor that seemed to help.

Recently while browsing The Art of Indian Cuisine, I pulled out a small bookmark and was surprised to be looking at the very recipe I had been building above. I was amazed that I had kept it after all these years, and even more so that I could read most of it. A feat hardly possible with my handwriting today. That recipe — complete with the Patak’s paste — was the culmination of a few years of trial and error. It reads, in part: 1 TB of ground chili powder, 2 TB of Vindaloo paste, 4 fresh green chilis, but only asked for 5 cloves of garlic. I might have been pretty happy with it at the time, because this was basically the same recipe that I contributed to the Boston Rock ’n Roll Cookbook in 1987. But…
Even with all of my additions and adjustments, something about the recipe still wasn’t quite right. After I got online in the mid-nineties, I began frequently searching the web for new recipes and ideas. Over a period of maybe a year or two, I downloaded recipes from early websites and tried some of them out. A few of them were good, but were still missing that something, which I also came to realize I was having trouble putting into words. I opted to take a break.
Rejection and Resetting
Eventually I decided to start over and build the recipe from scratch. I compared various recipes from books and blogs even looking to YouTube for new inspiration and ideas. I thought I was getting close, and was hopeful as I carefully prepared a new version on the day after Thanksgiving. But even this revamped recipe missed the mark! Disappointed, I set it aside again.
Several years later, I decided to try yet again, and this time was a bit different. I found a recipe in one of Madhur Jaffrey’s books, Flavors of India, and I read it carefully before embarking. While I didn’t follow Jaffrey’s recipe precisely, I tried to stay pretty close. In an attempt to use authentic ingredients, I was even able to find Goan coconut vinegar from the Waltham India Market — an ingredient deemed essential in several recipes I had read. This version came out pretty well. It had the strong underlying heat that I liked. Some of the other flavors were aggressive as well; cinnamon made its presence felt. It was good. Very good, in fact. Comparatively speaking, the flavors in this version were more complex and flavorful than many of the restaurant vindaloos and the heat was getting there as well.
But…it was also missing something from the restaurant versions. After all this time, I was still hung up on that notion. In fact, just prior to making this version, I had visited a new restaurant in Somerville to try their vindaloo for inspiration. While this had been a valiant effort on my part, for whatever reason, when it comes to vindaloo, I still wanted that. Despondent, I moved on.
Not Giving Up…

But! I just couldn’t just leave it there. (That would be admitting defeat.) To prepare for yet another reset in my vindaloo adventure, I consulted The Perfect Vindaloo by Peter Jones, which was published in 2019. I mean…a book devoted to this recipe had to have the key to success somewhere within, right? Along with multiple recipes, Jones includes a brief history of the dish outlining its origins as Carne de Vinha d’alhos (meat preserved in wine and garlic). This dish was brought to Goa by Portuguese sailors where it was adopted by the locals. (Incidentally, the Portuguese also introduced chilis to India.) Goan chefs went about modifying the basic recipe. Spices were added and palm vinegar was substituted for the red wine. Later, as the dish spread to restaurants in India and abroad, chilis began to be added and the reputation as a hot dish seemed to grow. Many versions of the recipe began to appear, adjusted to suit local customs and dietary restrictions. Garlic and vinegar seemed to be the constant among most if not all versions. 1
Each of the book’s recipes showcase a different version of the dish: from the British Indian Restaurant version to one named The Devil’s Vindaloo (which calls for 25 dry chilis—de-seeded). However, chapter four’s title expresses a conclusion that I had been starting to suspect: “There is No Rulebook for Creating the Perfect Vindaloo.” This led me to another more devastating discovery.
It took years for me to realize and admit to myself that if I want a restaurant-style vindaloo, I need to go to a restaurant. What I’m going to make at home is going to be vastly different. And, that’s OK. (There, I said it…finally!) Now, if I could just ring that sixth alarm!

And so, I came back to it yet again! In the autumn of 2020, I returned to the Jaffrey recipe and made it twice in a month’s time with the intention of building on the book’s recipe. I took careful notes about what worked in each version paying close attention to my adjustments. After I made it for the second time, I had many comments and changes to make. Progress was being made.
I did not make it again until April 2022, at which time I remarked: “Very good and robust. Strong Vindaloo flavor and hot. Can go a bit hotter possibly.” It was nearly there I thought while the fire in my mouth raged.
My next brainstorm came around Christmas. I decided to make a vindaloo “concentrate” for my brothers and a friend at work who likes hot food. I even made labels for the jars with my own custom brand. But there was still work to do. One of my running frustrations was that onions, garlic and tomatoes would never really break down and form a smooth gravy even after lengthy simmering over low heat. This time, I thought I had a solution for that. I had recently acquired a Maya grinder, and put it to work puréeing the onions, garlic and tomatoes after they had been sautéed. This trick worked! The thick paste along with vinegar, spices and two different types of dried chilis brought this version right to the edge.

It took yet a few more attempts before I was willing to put this one in my book. One day, after grinding the chilis and spices, I was nearly overcome by the pungency wafting into my kitchen once I opened the lid of the grinder. After I stopped coughing, I realized that I might actually be very close. This was a potent batch for sure! Impatiently, I simmered the gravy for what seemed like hours, added paneer and finally had a taste. And very quickly declared victory! I was even a bit surprised by the aggressive combination of the chilis and vinegar. Finally, I had created a vindaloo with teeth!! This one was tangy, boldly flavorful and very hot. Kebab-N-Kurry hot, which is what I had been looking for all along.
- Peter Jones, The Perfect Vindaloo (2019) 3