It has gone straight to the top of our tree of cities visited. It's up our street, it floats our boat, it strokes our salami. The last one isn't really a thing but it pretty much did do that.
Lisbon, and Portugal in general, very unfairly and very naively get lumped with Spain as not being all that distinct from one another. Those misconceptions are very far from that truth. Aussies and Kiwis are similar but don't ever mistake a Kiwi for an Aussie or think that visiting Australia negates the need to visit New Zealand. The same applies here. No, not "hola", "ola". A slight, yet important and symbolic distinction.
Lisboa itself is a very cool city. Yes there are tourists there but you feel daily Lisboa life as it existed 50 years ago still exists there today. The same old trolleys trundle up and down the hills, that day's washing still hangs along balconies as it always has and every 50 metres there's a little old school cafeteria filled with locals getting their coffee fix and quickly gobbling down a pastry.
Enough dribble from me, here is some of Lisboa's beauty in picture form.
For no reasons other than to provide you the most thoroughly researched and qualified of opinions we tested various hypotheses whilst in Lisboa. I hope you appreciate how meticulous we were in the research provided below.
Bifanas
A soft bap-like bun chock full of pounded, stewed in its own juices, pork strips.
Hypothesis
Pork in a bun is never more than pork in a bun
Procedure
1. Follow the gesticulation of the chef at the window of Beire Gare and enter his restaurant
2. Kindly decline the offer to sit at a table and squeeze in with the locals at the bar
3. Order "dois Bifana" and "dois cervejas, por favor"
4. Once the Bifanas have been placed in front of you apply a generous lacing of the best mustard you've ever tasted and a lick of chilli oil
5. Next, put that amazing, logic redefining sandwich to your lips and savour every mouthful
6. Don't forget to soak up the oil that has now spread across your face, fingers and arms with sufficient mouthfuls of beer and handfuls of serviettes
7. Hand over just €2.3 and feel like they must have charged you incorrectly
8. Nod, smile and offer an "obrigado" to your sandwich gods
9. Bask in those post-sex endorphins as you and pork just made love
10. Do repeat steps 1 to 9 as often as possible
Conclusion
This sandwich provides one of those moments in your food existence where you look around the room thinking "holy f*ck, what is this magnificent creature?" and wonder if anyone else is losing their Bifana virginity at the same time that you are. Because if they are, like you, it is their luckiest of days.
A few months ago I said, "pork in a bun with mustard is just pork in a bun with mustard". That was before we discovered the Bifana. That statement was incorrect and therefore, as is the hypothesis.
N.B. Sorry Bourdain, you got this one wrong, Beire Gare is where Lisboa's best Bifanas are at, not O Trevo.
Bifana Count - 10
Game of Sandwiches
We're off to Porto next where not one but two contenders are champing at the bit to steal the throne from our current sandwich king, the Bifana.
Natas
Hypothesis
Once you've tried one you've tried them all
Procedure
1. Enter predetermined establishment and order "dois Pasteis de Nata" and "dois bicas, por favor"
2. Sufficiently sugar your bicas as you now have a sugar addiction after spending time in Morocco
3. Next, bite into your (hopefully) crispy, flaky pastry cup filled with silky smooth custard
4. Move onto the next establishment and repeat steps 1 to 3
Conclusion
Abstaining from 'Portuguese custard tarts' whilst we were in Australia was well and truly worth the sacrifice. Sometimes national dishes with a bucket load of associated hype can tend to disappoint. Pasteis de Nata do not disappoint, they do quite the opposite. Even the "Natas" that you get from unassuming little cafeterias whilst not as good as those that you get from speciality bakeries are still v good.
However, there is very much a distinction between them all. And the cost difference of 20-30 euro cents is more often that not worth it.
Our "research" resulted in the following observations.
Cafeteria Natas - do the job but the pastry can tend to be a bit "meaty", leaving a film of grease on your teeth and the custard tastes a bit cheaper
Confeitaria Nacional and Pastelaria Aloma Natas - encased in pastry that is at the next level. Pastry that shatters like a paper thin sheet of sugar in your mouth and is filled with amazing, perfectly smooth custard
Pasteis de Belem Natas - in 1837 this place trademarked the name 'Pasteis de Belem' to differentiate itself from your 'standard' Nata and most visitors to Lisboa make the pilgrimage to Belem for the sole purpose of getting their hands on these tasty little morsels.
These Natas are different to those found elsewhere. The pastry is more like a savoury filo pastry and the custard thicker and eggier. An interesting diversion to the norm however I do think that the Belem Nata's reputation is yes, built on quality but also has a decent helping of hype chucked up in.
After extensive research our findings suggest that the Confeitaria Nacional Natas are the ones you'd go back for again and again and that not all Natas are made the same.
Pastel de Nata Count - 19
Ginjinha
A local spirit made by distilling Ginja berries (sour cherries).
Hypothesis
There's always time for a quick Ginjinha
Procedure
1. Find the hole in the wall bar with the people spilling out onto the street
2. Order "dois Ginjinha, por favor", with or without fruit depending upon your preference
3. Down the Ginjinha at the rate that your free time allows
4. Repeat steps 2 and 3 as many times over as any further free time allows
Conclusion
In concluding, yes, there is always time for a quick Ginjinha, or three.
Ginjinha Count - 22
Death Row Meal
You know that you're in for a good meal when the paper tablecloths come out and there's a sink in the corner to wash your hands at. However we weren't just in for a good meal at Cervejaria Ramiro's, we were in for the meal of my life. Yes, the meal that I'd want as my last if I'd been committed of a heinous crime in Texas and it was time for a little injection. Oh, ahem, that's after a meal from Nix or Mum of course.
A simple restaurant on the outside, a simple restaurant on the inside and a restaurant with a simple mantra - serving up the best god damn shellfish that you've ever eaten. No fish, just shellfish.
I had a decision to make here. We had a bit of money squirreled away for either a soccer game or a meal at Ramiro's. Food won. Food always wins.
We played it safe to begin with and started with a bowl of steaming hot garlic clams. Packed full of garlicky goodness and cooked beautifully, a tasty but unremarkable start.
Second up we realised a bit of a food dream. A quarter kilo of Goose Barnacles, aka Percebes. And weird looking little buggers they are.
After getting the waiter to show us how to pry them out of their wetsuit material like casing, it didn't take long before we were able to expertly slip them out and gobble them down. The texture was a little bit on the rubbery side and they were the essence of shellfish. Mid way through the plate of them we both agreed that these will become a serious treat whenever we're able to get our hands on them in the future.
Up next was the main event. The most beautiful looking sea creature you have ever seen. A Carabineros (Scarlet Shrimp/Cardinal Prawn).
First job, carefully pull off the head and ensure that no brain juices escape, as that would be a cardinal sin. Then you need to gulp down those magical brain juices and a savour every sip. This is flavour to behold.
After that pour the rest of the brains onto your plate. That's your sauce.
Next step is to peel away the shell of the Carabineros and slowly nibble on that amazing best of a prawn-best of a crayfish hybrid shellfish thing and mop up your sauces as you go. At this point you will have tears in your eyes as it would've dawned on you how truly amazing this little beast tastes.
Whilst you're in the depths of your seafood dream the waiter will attempt to steal away the Carabineros' heads, a scornful glance will put an end to his feeble attempt.
After mopping up every available skerrick of juice through any available means it's dessert time. Where dessert is a steak sandwich, as you do.
I can still taste our meal at Ramiro and I believe I will continue to until the end of my days. An absolute privilege.
Peri Peri/Piri Piri Chicken at Bom Jardim
Another meal, another paper tablecloth, another win. Out comes a perfectly cooked rotisserie chicken, you plonk a quarter of it on your plate, paint on a heap of Peri Peri sauce* and enjoy its crispy, roasty, spicy, succulent goodness. We had one chicken, we could've had two but given how many Natas and Bifanas Lisboa was jamming down our throat we thought it best not to. Om nom nom.
And yes, Peri Peri Chicken was actually a thing before Nandos. Wow, shock horror.
*a hot tip (if you will) don't be too overzealous during the painting process, it turns out that eyeballs and Peri Peri sauce don't go so well together. It also turns out that you get zero sympathy from Nix.
Sol e Pesca
Bear with me here. Seafood in tins and green (young) wine on tap don't sound very thrilling nor do they really sound like a plausible idea for a restaurant.
Multiple jugs of Vinho Verde and tins of blooded tuna and needlefish beg to differ though.
A v cool little spot for good food and good drinks.
Fado Night
Being the cheap arses that we are a night of Fado at Tasca do Chico with no admission fee was too good to pass up.
Two men sit to the side thoughtfully strumming their guitars whilst various performers bashfully sing songs of love and loss and whilst we weren't able to translate what was being said it's an extremely captivating style of music and it isn't difficult to feel or imagine the story that's being told.
It was a couple of round of drinks very well spent.
However I'm ending on a bit of a shit note. People who flash their cameras in the eyes of performers at events like these need to take a good, hard look at themselves. The performers are pouring their hearts out and then there's the meathead flashing a camera in their eyes to take a photo that won't look any good anyway. They probably don't even write a blog....
Barrie-ometer of "Feel" - yeah, science!
