A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
The blood porridge of Minho, born from the winter matança when families used every part of the pig. Dark, rich, perfumed with cumin, this is peasant cooking at its most honest and uncompromising.
This is not a dish for everyone. I say that with love, not gatekeeping. Papas de Sarrabulho asks something of you before you cook it: acceptance. Acceptance that our grandmothers cooked with blood, with offal, with the parts that modern squeamishness has taught us to discard. They did this not from poverty alone, but from wisdom. Nothing wasted. Everything honored.
I first tasted proper sarrabulho in Ponte de Lima, at the home of Dona Alzira, one of the grandmothers I documented for my cookbook. She was 84, had made this dish every winter since she was a young bride, and laughed when I asked for measurements. "You cook until it looks right," she said. "Your hands will know." The kitchen smelled of cumin and pork fat, and I understood immediately why this dish survived centuries of change. It is comfort made physical.
The cumin is everything. It transforms what could be heavy and metallic into something warm, almost spiced, deeply savory. Avó Leonor never made sarrabulho (she was Alentejana, and this is Minho's soul food), but she understood its principle: peasant food is genius food. The matança was a community event, a celebration of survival through winter. Sarrabulho was the first dish made, while the blood was still fresh, still warm from the animal. To waste it would be disrespectful.
At Mesa da Avó, I serve this once a year, in January, to honor the matança tradition. Some guests have never tasted blood before. Some grew up with it. Both groups leave understanding something about Portuguese food that bacalhau and pastéis de nata can never teach. This is who we are, underneath the tourist menus. This is the kitchen our grandmothers kept.
Papas de Sarrabulho emerged from the matança do porco, the annual pig slaughter that sustained rural Minho families through winter. The dish had to be made immediately after slaughter, while the blood was fresh and fluid. Cumin, unusual in Portuguese cuisine, likely arrived through medieval trade routes and became the defining spice of this region's blood cookery. The tradition persists in villages across Minho, though increasingly rare as industrial meat production replaces home slaughter.
Quantity
500g
cut into 3cm cubes
Quantity
200g
cleaned and cut into small pieces
Quantity
150g
sliced
Quantity
400ml
strained
Quantity
150g
Quantity
2 medium
finely chopped
Quantity
4 cloves
minced
Quantity
200ml
Quantity
1.5 liters
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
2 teaspoons, plus more to taste
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
freshly ground, to taste
Quantity
for serving
chopped
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| pork shouldercut into 3cm cubes | 500g |
| pork livercleaned and cut into small pieces | 200g |
| chouriço de carnesliced | 150g |
| fresh pork bloodstrained | 400ml |
| fine corn flour (farinha de milho fina) | 150g |
| onionsfinely chopped | 2 medium |
| garlicminced | 4 cloves |
| dry white wine | 200ml |
| water or light pork broth | 1.5 liters |
| lard or olive oil | 3 tablespoons |
| ground cumin | 2 teaspoons, plus more to taste |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| sea salt | 1 teaspoon |
| black pepper | freshly ground, to taste |
| fresh parsley (optional)chopped | for serving |
In a large heavy pot, heat the lard over medium heat. Add the onions and cook slowly, stirring occasionally, until soft and golden, about 12 minutes. Add the garlic and cook another minute until fragrant. This is the foundation. Não tenhas pressa.
Season the pork shoulder pieces with salt and pepper. Push the onions aside and add the pork cubes to the pot. Let them brown on all sides, about 8 minutes total. Don't crowd them. Work in batches if needed. You want color, not steam.
Pour in the white wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom. Let it bubble for 2 minutes. Add the water or broth, bay leaves, and 1 teaspoon of the cumin. Bring to a simmer, then reduce heat to low. Cover and cook until the pork is completely tender, about 1 hour 15 minutes. The meat should yield easily when pressed with a spoon.
Add the liver pieces and sliced chouriço to the pot. Simmer uncovered for another 15 minutes. The liver should be just cooked through, not rubbery. Taste the broth and adjust salt. Add the remaining teaspoon of cumin. The cumin should be present and assertive, the defining note of the dish.
If your blood has been refrigerated, let it come to room temperature. Strain it through a fine sieve to remove any clots. Whisk it smooth. Have your corn flour measured and ready. From here, you work quickly.
Reduce the heat to medium-low. While stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, sprinkle in the corn flour in a slow steady stream. Keep stirring. The mixture will begin to thicken. Continue cooking and stirring for 5 minutes until the raw flour taste cooks out and the porridge holds together but is still fluid.
Remove the pot from direct heat. Working quickly, pour in the strained blood while stirring vigorously. Return to very low heat and continue stirring constantly for 3 to 4 minutes. The papas will darken and thicken further. Do not let it boil or the blood will curdle. You want a porridge consistency: thick enough to hold its shape on a spoon, loose enough to pour.
Taste and adjust. You may want more cumin, more salt, a grind of pepper. The flavor should be rich, deeply savory, with the warm spice of cumin cutting through the richness. Serve immediately in deep bowls, scattered with fresh parsley. In Minho, this comes to the table with rojões on the side and bread to soak up every bit. Papas de Sarrabulho waits for no one.
1 serving (about 320g)
Culinary mentorship, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Explore Culinary Advisor