Tasting Goan food is like tasting history, migration, memory, and love. The story of Goan cuisine has always been rooted in the soil. Long before modern kitchens were filled with steel pans and non-stick pots, the earthen pot was the centrepiece of every household. Made by village potters from red clay, these pots were more than mere utensils—they were companions in daily life, shaping both the flavour and rhythm of Goan cooking. For centuries, they have been used across cultures, particularly in rural settings, to prepare a wide variety of dishes. The porous nature of clay allows heat and steam to circulate evenly, retaining moisture and giving food a soft texture and rich aroma. This gentle, slow-cooking method not only preserves nutrients but also enhances the depth and complexity of flavours.
At the heart of this culinary heritage is the humble kullim/kudne—the earthen vessel that was once a staple in every Goan kitchen. Crafted from natural clay by skilled village potters, these pots carry an ancient wisdom that modern cookware often fails to match. Curries simmered in clay pots develop richer, more balanced flavours, as spices meld gently without being overwhelmed by intense heat. Today, many are also becoming aware of the potentially harmful chemicals released by modern cookware, making the traditional clay pot not just a choice of taste, but of health as well.
Before mixers, Goan households relied on the rogdo and vhaan—a traditional grinding stone setup—primarily used for grinding masala. Unlike the rogdo used for dry spices, this combination was essential for preparing pastes of coconut, soaked rice, dals, and masalas, forming the very foundation of Goan cuisine. The process involved spreading the ingredients on the vhaan and rhythmically grinding them with the cylindrical pestle, the rogdo, adding just enough water to create a smooth, flavourful paste.
This task was almost exclusively undertaken by women, who were regarded as the guardians of the household kitchen. Grinding was far more than a mere step in cooking—it had a rhythmic, almost meditative quality that resonated through the home. Often, it became a communal activity, where mothers passed down culinary knowledge to daughters. It demanded patience, strength, and a discerning eye for texture, as the quality of the paste could make or break dishes like xacuti, vindaloo, or the daily coconut curry. Beyond their practical use, the rogdo and vhaan held symbolic significance. They were often included in a bride’s dowry, representing her role in nurturing and feeding her family. During festivals and rituals, pastes and masalas ground on these stones were considered pure and auspicious, far superior to machine-processed powders. For pounding cereals, pulses, and spices, the danten—a heavy stone implement—was an essential tool, forming the backbone of Goan kitchens long before mixers and grinders appeared.
At the heart of traditional Goan kitchens, long before stainless steel and plastic utensils became common, there was a humble yet essential tool—the Doulo (plural Doule). Its primary use was stirring and serving curries, dals, and rice, especially from earthen pots. The Doule, made from a coconut shell, reflects the ingenuity and resourcefulness of Goan culinary traditions. Artisans would carefully cut, clean, and polish the hard shell of a mature coconut into a cup-like shape, which was then fitted with a bamboo handle. The size of the shell dictated its purpose: larger shells served as cooking ladles, while smaller ones were used for serving or measuring ingredients. In some households, the shell was secured with coir fibres or small metal rivets to enhance durability.
Traditionally, coconuts in Goan kitchens were grated using a kantonnem, a simple yet ingenious tool made of iron, often affixed to a low wooden stool. The person grating the coconut would sit on the stool, pressing the coconut against the serrated iron surface, skilfully rotating it to extract fresh coconut shreds. This method required strength, precision, and a steady rhythm, making it both a physically demanding and meditative task.
In contemporary kitchens, the traditional low kantonnem has evolved for greater comfort and efficiency. Modern versions are mounted on higher stools or stands, allowing the grater to be used while standing or sitting upright, reducing strain on the back and legs. Despite these adaptations, many Goans still prefer the old-fashioned kantonnem for its ability to produce perfectly textured coconut, essential for authentic Goan curries, sweets, and batters. Beyond utility, the kantonnem symbolises the resourcefulness and craftsmanship of traditional Goan households, where even simple tools were designed to harmonise ergonomics with culinary needs.
The steamer, or konfro, is a staple in Goan kitchens, especially during festive or special occasions, and has been passed down through generations as part of traditional cookware. This particular konfro is made of copper and was routinely tinned before use to prevent corrosion. A perforated plate rests on a shelf created by an indentation about halfway up the pot, on which small dishes (vatlis) containing batter are placed for steaming delicacies such as coconut rice bread (sanna), rice cakes (maddos), and patolleo.
Traditionally, Goan families also prepared Shevyo, a sweet dish made from rice vermicelli, grated coconut, and palm jaggery. To make Shevyo, steamed rice cakes were passed through a vermicelli maker called a Shevgo, crafted from wood, iron, or brass. Since not every household owned a Shevgo, families without one would often borrow it from a neighbour or rent it for the day.
This cookware reflects Goan ingenuity, sustainability, and the rhythm of traditional kitchen life, emphasising slow cooking, natural materials, and hands-on preparation.
