Feijoada à Transmontana

Portuguese mountain white bean stew slow-cooked with smoked chouriço, morcela, salt pork belly, and winter cabbage from the granite highlands of Trás-os-Montes

Origin: Trás-os-Montes, Portugal

From the journey of Beans.

Trás-os-Montes, meaning 'beyond the mountains', is the remote granite plateau of northeastern Portugal: a region of hard winters, terraced vineyards, and one of the most intact preserved food traditions on the Iberian Peninsula. Feijoada à Transmontana is its definitive dish, and the most direct expression of what happened when Phaseolus vulgaris arrived in Portugal from Spain in the mid-1490s and met the smoked pork culture of the mountain north. The combination of chouriço (smoked paprika pork sausage), morcela (blood sausage), and salt pork belly produces a broth of extraordinary depth, darkened by paprika smoke and enriched by rendered fat, into which the beans slowly dissolve at the edges until the whole pot thickens to a consistency somewhere between a stew and a sauce. Couve (savoy or Portuguese kale) is added at the very end, briefly wilted, providing the only colour against the burnished copper of the bean broth. This dish is fundamentally different in character from the Spanish fabada asturiana of neighbouring Asturias, though both belong to the same post-Columbian tradition of Atlantic bean and smoked pork. The Transmontana version uses a lighter white haricot bean rather than the large Asturian fabes, incorporates both chouriço and morcela together, and adds cabbage at the finish, producing a broader, more complex flavour. The two dishes share an origin point in the same Columbian Exchange bean; what separates them is the pork tradition of each region and the cooking instinct of each kitchen. This is also the tradition that travelled. Portuguese navigators carried dried beans as ship's provisions through Cape Verde to West Africa and around the Cape of Good Hope to Goa, and the feijão that arrived in those places was understood through the template of this kitchen: something to be cooked long and slow, with flavourful additions, until the broth thickened and the beans dissolved at the edges. The Brazilian feijoada, the Cape Verdean cachupa, and the Goan feijoada de camarão all trace their conceptual lineage, in part, to the tradition that emerged in these granite highlands in the years immediately after the bean arrived in Iberia.

Ingredients

Beans

  • 500 g dried white beans (feijão branco, haricot, or cannellini), soaked in cold water overnight and drained

Meat

  • 300 g chouriço (smoked Portuguese paprika pork sausage), cut into 2 cm rounds
  • 200 g morcela (Portuguese blood sausage), cut into 2 cm rounds
  • 300 g entremeada (streaky pork belly) or pork spare ribs, cut into pieces
  • 150 g presunto (Portuguese cured ham) or thick-cut smoked bacon, in one piece

Base

  • 3 tbsp olive oil
  • 2 large onions, finely diced
  • 6 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
  • 2 bay leaves

Spices

  • 1 tsp smoked paprika (pimentão doce)
  • 0.5 tsp ground black pepper
  • 1 tsp fine salt, plus more to taste

Vegetables

  • 300 g savoy cabbage or couve galega (Portuguese kale), coarsely shredded

To Serve

  • fresh flat-leaf parsley, to serve
  • crusty bread, to serve

Method

  1. Drain and rinse the soaked beans. Place in a large pot, cover generously with cold water, and bring to a rolling boil. Skim any foam from the surface, then reduce to a moderate simmer. Cook for 45 minutes until the beans are beginning to soften but are not yet tender. Drain, reserving the cooking water.
  2. Heat the olive oil in a large, heavy-based pot over medium heat. Add the chouriço and morcela rounds. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, turning once, until lightly coloured and their fat has rendered into the oil. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside.
  3. Add the pork belly (or ribs) and the presunto to the same pot. Brown on all sides over medium-high heat for 5 to 6 minutes until the pork has taken on some colour. Remove and set aside with the sausages.
  4. Reduce the heat to medium. Add the onions to the fat remaining in the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 12 to 15 minutes until deeply golden and soft. Add the garlic, bay leaves, smoked paprika, black pepper, and salt. Stir and cook for 2 minutes.
  5. Return the pork belly and presunto to the pot. Add the par-cooked beans. Pour in enough of the reserved cooking water to cover everything by about 3 cm, topping up with fresh water as needed. Bring to a gentle simmer, cover, and cook for 1 hour.
  6. Add the chouriço and morcela back to the pot. Continue simmering, covered, for a further 30 minutes until the beans are completely tender and the broth has thickened noticeably. Taste and adjust salt; the chouriço and presunto will have contributed salt throughout the cooking.
  7. Add the shredded cabbage or couve. Stir through, replace the lid, and cook for a further 8 to 10 minutes until the cabbage is wilted and tender but still with some texture and colour.
  8. Remove the bay leaves. Lift out the presunto and pork belly, cut or pull them into generous pieces, and return to the pot. Scatter with fresh parsley and serve directly from the pot into deep bowls, with crusty bread alongside.

Notes

Feijoada à Transmontana keeps and improves: made the day before, the broth thickens further as the beans release their starch overnight, and the smoked sausages perfume the entire dish more deeply. Reheat gently with a splash of water if needed. Morcela (Portuguese blood sausage) is available from Portuguese and Spanish delicatessens; Spanish morcilla de Burgos is a reasonable substitute, though its rice-filled texture differs from the firm Portuguese style. Chouriço is widely available from Portuguese, Spanish, and good European food shops; do not substitute Mexican chorizo, which is a raw fresh sausage of an entirely different type. Presunto can be replaced with a thick piece of smoked or salt-cured bacon, or with a small ham hock added with the beans; if using a ham hock, allow an additional 30 minutes of cooking time before adding the cabbage. Couve galega (Portuguese kale) is available from Portuguese grocers; savoy cabbage, Tuscan kale (cavolo nero), or any robust winter greens are excellent substitutes.

The Gastrographer

The Gastrographer

Mapping Culinary History

To explore — select an ingredient below.

Journey Point Map Key

Ingredient originTrade or transit route
Became a culinary stapleColonial / trade control
c. 1650s
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16 of 16 stops
1654 CE
7000 BCE14931530s1650s
Beans

Beans

Phaseolus vulgaris

Grains & LegumesLegumes

🌍Origin

Mesoamerica, Andes & Peruvian Coast (four independent domestications) — c. 7000 BCE

🌱Domestication

The beans that feed the world today are overwhelmingly Phaseolus vulgaris, the common bean, and one of the most striking facts of their natural history is that they were domesticated not once but twice, in two distant lands, from two genetically distinct wild populations of the same species. In the highlands of Mexico and Central America, around 7,000 BCE, the early farming peoples selected wild P. vulgaris to produce what botanists call the Middle American gene pool, the lineage that gives us the black bean, the pinto, the navy or haricot bean, and the small Mesoamerican varieties. Simultaneously and entirely independently, far to the south, the communities of the Andean highlands of Peru and Bolivia domesticated a second, genetically separate population of the same wild bean around 6,000 BCE, producing the Andean gene pool, the lineage of the large kidney bean, the cannellini, and the Peruvian canary bean. The two stocks evolved in isolation from one another for many thousands of years, diverging in seed size, colour, and growth habit, before any human being carried one to meet the other. The common bean was, from the beginning, a partner crop rather than a solitary one. Across the Americas it was sown as one of the Three Sisters, the companion planting in which maize provided a living pole for the bean vines to climb, the beans fixed atmospheric nitrogen into the soil through the bacteria in their roots and so replenished the ground the hungry maize exhausted, and the broad leaves of the squash shaded out the weeds and held the moisture in the earth. The nutritional logic was as elegant as the agronomic one, for maize and beans eaten together supply between them a fuller complement of amino acids than either does alone, the bean's protein completing the grain's. Both American lineages of P. vulgaris crossed to Europe with the Columbian Exchange between the 1490s and the 1530s, and almost every common bean eaten anywhere in the world today descends from these two American origins. They should not be confused with the other plants that English carelessly calls beans: the fava or broad bean (Vicia faba), the mung and adzuki beans (Vigna radiata and V. angularis), and the soybean (Glycine max) are entirely separate genera with their own deep and independent histories across the Old World, cultivated there for thousands of years before the American bean arrived to take their ancient name.

Global Voyage

Phaseolus vulgaris arrived in Europe through two channels at very nearly the same moment. Spanish explorers returning from the Caribbean and the Spanish Main after 1492 brought home the seeds of the Mesoamerican varieties, whilst Portuguese navigators and traders, working the Atlantic coast of South America after Cabral's landfall in Brazil in 1500, carried the Andean varieties, the great kidney beans amongst them, back to Lisbon. Within a single generation both lineages had taken root in the gardens of Spain and Portugal, and within two they had spread through the Italian peninsula, into France, and as far as the Ottoman court. The speed of the bean's adoption was extraordinary, far swifter than the long, suspicious reception accorded the tomato or the potato, and the reason lay in its sheer usefulness: the dried bean was lighter than meat, cheaper than fish, storable for years without salting or smoking, and nutritionally rich enough to carry a labouring population through the winter. In an age perpetually shadowed by dearth, here was a protein that kept indefinitely in a sack, and Europe seized upon it. The American bean travelled outward from Iberia along the trade routes of the two colonial empires almost as fast as it had crossed the Atlantic. Portuguese maritime traders carried dried beans as ship's provisions down their established West African circuits, planting them in the Cape Verde islands by 1495 and on the Senegambian mainland soon after, where the newcomer joined the ancient indigenous cowpea in the cooking of the Wolof, the Akan, and the peoples of the Guinea coast. The same Portuguese networks carried the kidney bean east around the Cape to the Malabar coast and the colony at Goa, from which it travelled north into the Punjab to become rajma; and overland and maritime routes brought P. vulgaris to China by the 1620s and to Japan, where a Chinese monk introduced the related runner bean in 1654. Wherever it arrived, the bean did not merely survive but was naturalised so completely that its foreign origin was forgotten, taking on the spices and the cooking methods of each new home and becoming, in turn, the rajma of the Punjab, the feijão of Brazil and Portugal, the haricot of the French cassoulet, the fagioli of Tuscany, the waakye bean of Ghana, and the akara of Senegal. Few plants have ever travelled so far so fast, or disguised themselves so thoroughly as a native of everywhere.

🍽Modern Culinary Role

Phaseolus vulgaris is the most widely consumed bean on the planet, an everyday staple across Latin America, the Mediterranean, West Africa, South Asia, and beyond, and the quiet protein of more poor and prosperous kitchens than almost any other single food. Its two American gene pools, the Mesoamerican and the Andean, together underpin thousands of regional dishes under dozens of local names, so many that the same humble seed appears scarcely recognisable from one country to the next: the black bean simmered into the frijoles de la olla of Mexico and the feijoada of Brazil; the kidney bean slow-cooked with spice into the rajma of Delhi's street stalls and stewed with pork into the fabada of Asturias; the white cannellini of Tuscan ribollita; the haricot of the contested cassoulet of Languedoc; the navy bean of Boston's molasses-dark baked beans; the waakye bean of the Ghanaian roadside. In each the bean has absorbed the local seasoning so completely that its common American ancestry is all but invisible. The wider family to which the common bean lends its English name encompasses several other species of global importance, each older in the Old World than P. vulgaris by thousands of years: the fava or broad bean (Vicia faba) of the ancient Mediterranean, the mung bean (Vigna radiata) and adzuki (Vigna angularis) of monsoon Asia, and the soybean (Glycine max) of East Asia, whose ferments and curds form a civilisation of their own. In the twenty-first century the bean has acquired a new prominence. As the environmental and nutritional case for plant proteins moves to the centre of debate, the legume has been rediscovered as one of the most complete and ecologically efficient foods available to humanity: high in protein and fibre, low in fat, cheap to grow, and uniquely capable, through its nitrogen-fixing roots, of enriching rather than exhausting the soil it grows in. The food that the Tuscans once dismissed as la carne dei poveri, the meat of the poor, is now reckoned amongst the most quietly important crops on earth.

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