Roasted coconut, poppy seed and star anise gravy with tempered curry leaves. Let's not get in a flap.
Xacuti is Goa's sleeper hit — a coconut-based curry that sneaks up on you with roasted spices and poppy seeds ground into a paste so fine it catches light. I learned it from a cook in Panjim who'd been making it the same way for thirty years, no shortcuts, no shortcuts. Autumn's when the chickens are meaty and the coconuts fresh-grated, so this is the season to make it properly.
In a dry pan over medium heat, toast the star anise for 90 seconds until fragrant — don't let it blacken. Add the poppy seeds and toast for another 2 minutes, stirring constantly. You'll hear them start to pop and smell their own warm sweetness. Tip into a mortar or spice grinder and grind to a fine, almost sand-like powder. This takes patience; don't rush it.
Toast the fresh grated coconut in a dry pan over medium-low heat for 5 minutes, stirring often, until it's deep golden and smells like toasted almonds. Set aside. In the same pan, char the shallots, garlic, and green chillies over medium-high heat until blackened in places (this takes about 4 minutes). Grind the cooled coconut, charred aromatics, and the spice powder together in a blender with 120ml water, adding it slowly, until you have a smooth, thick paste the colour of wet sand.
Pat the chicken thighs dry with a clean cloth — moisture is the enemy of a good sear. Heat 30ml of coconut oil in a wide heavy-bottomed pan over medium-high heat. When it shimmers, add the chicken skin-side down and leave it alone for 5 minutes. You want deep golden colour, not pale gold. Flip and sear the other side for 3 minutes. Transfer to a plate.
In the same pan with the chicken fat still clinging, reduce the heat to medium and add the remaining 30ml of oil if needed. Scrape any fond from the bottom. Add the spice-coconut paste and stir constantly for 4 minutes — the paste will darken slightly and smell almost nutty. You're cooking off the raw flour taste and marrying the flavours. Don't let it catch on the pan bottom.
Pour 300ml water into the pan and stir to loosen any stuck paste. Nestle the seared chicken back in, skin-side up. Bring to a bare simmer, then reduce to low heat. Cover and cook for 25 minutes, turning the chicken once halfway through. The meat should pull easily from the bone and the sauce should be thick and coat the back of a spoon. Taste and season with salt — it usually needs less than you'd think because the spices and chicken build the seasoning.
Heat a small pan with 10ml of coconut oil until it barely shimmers. Add the curry leaves — they'll crackle and hiss. Listen for the sound to soften, about 30 seconds, then pour the whole lot (oil and leaves) over the finished xacuti. Stir gently to distribute the leaves and the fragrant oil through the gravy. Taste once more — sometimes a squeeze of lime juice cuts through the richness, but not always.
“Spoon the chicken thighs into a warm shallow bowl — skin side up if it's still crispy — and ladle the gravy around them. Let the curry leaves sit on top where they catch the light. Serve with steamed rice, or if you want to be clever, with thin roti that you can use to drag through the gravy. This isn't fancy plating; it's honest food that tastes better than it looks.”
First spoonful: roasted spice and coconut hit you at the front, sweet and warm but not honeyed. Mid-palate the poppy seeds deliver their earthy, almost mineral note, and star anise adds a subtle floral backbone — it doesn't announce itself, just sits there holding things together. The chicken is tender enough to shred with a spoon, and the gravy clings to it properly. Finish is warm, slightly perfumed, and leaves you wanting another bite and another piece of rice.
Replace the chicken with 800g of firm tofu (pressed overnight and cut into 4cm chunks) or 600g of cooked chickpeas and 200g of waxy potato cubes — the potato adds substance and absorbs the gravy beautifully. Sear the tofu or pan-fry the potato until golden before building the gravy. Use the exact same spice paste and cooking method; simmer for only 15 minutes instead of 25 because tofu and chickpeas don't need the time to break down. The depth and warmth are identical, just without the animal protein. A handful of blanched peas stirred in at the end adds colour and sweetness.
The acidity cuts through the coconut richness and the slight sweetness won't fight the spices; the body is light enough that the curry stays the star.
The carbonation scrubs your palate and the light malt won't compete with the complex spice paste; crisp and local feels right here.
Cools the spice gently, echoes the coconut in the dish, and feels entirely at home on a Goan table.
Cooked this dish? Snap a photo, share it here. No filter, no fuss — the good, the wonky, the accidentally set-fire-to.
Sign in to share your photo of this dish.
No one's cooked this yet — be the first.