It should be noted that Sawant has been needling in this direction for years. In 2018, he told Goans that it was inappropriate for them to root for the Portugal football team. Even more recently, in the 2022 elections cycle, he suddenly started pleading with voters: “I do not ask for anything [more], I just request you for the strength to preserve Hindu and temple culture and re-establish those temples and culture [that were damaged or destroyed in the colonial period].” Just after taking office last month, the chief minister’s inaugural budget set aside Rs 20 crore “for the restoration of temples”. And on Good Friday recently, Sawant made yet another declaration that “once again [our] religion is being attacked. I am not telling lies. We have seen that in various parts of Goa, people are moving forward towards religious conversion. Taking advantage of different things—someone is poor, someone is a numerical minority, somebody is backward, someone who does not have food or a job—such people are being taken (in) in this manner. The government will never allow religious conversions, but people need to be vigilant.” The chief minister hasn’t yet mentioned beef, but politics of conversion are inextricably tied to intense feelings about food and ritual pollution, which are linked together in the complex landscapes of identity and belonging evoked by what we eat, and—even more importantly—what we are seen to be eating.