Monday 31 March 2014

Oporto You're So Fine, You're So Fine You Blow My Mind, Oporto

I dont think that we've ever been anywhere before that I've said "I love this place" as many times over as I did when we were in Porto.  There was no other basis to that statement than having an excuse to drink endless quantities of dirt cheap but amazing port.

Another UNESCO registered city, another beauty.  However what's different about this one is that it doesn't feel as heavily touristfied as others.  There isn't an Italian joint on every corner and it isn't as clean cut as others that we've been to, as evidenced by the many old, decrepit buildings that are dotted around the city centre.  It's a nice change to see a UNESCO registered city that people still actually live and exist in.

Porting it Up

Because what else do you do in Porto?

Taylor's Tour

Rather reluctantly we set off on our first morning in Porto to go and do a tour of one of the port houses.  I say reluctantly because we aren't big fans of tours and expected this one just to be a bit wanky.  We were wrong.

The guide knew his stuff and did an extremely good job of tempting the group into ripping the bung out of one of the casks and guzzling down its heavenly insides.  Thank god the tour started with a sample of their Chip Dry White.  We discovered white port in Porto, a nice little addition to our home lives I believe.  On ice, with fizzy water, in Summer, nice...


The tour began with a brief history lesson before we entered the cellar and whilst surrounded by cask upon cask of various ageing ports we were educated on a world of port that we've only ever known the tip of the iceberg of.  After the tour it was time to head back inside for a sample of their Ruby and Tawny 10 Year.  For entry level ports these were delicious.  Unfortunately the budget couldn't stretch far enough for us to have a nip of the 1855 Vintage Tawny.

Tasting at Krohn

Through disgustingly bad weather and soaking jeans and shoes we pushed on to Krohn for another couple of 'doing what they say on the label' samples.  We walked away with an €8 bottle of their Ruby.

A Couple at Vino Logia

The day ended with some further research at Vino Logia, a cosy little Port bar with an amazing little selection and pretty good company.


Takeaways

However, as enjoyable as the above few places were, we got the most pleasure out of paying €5-10 for a different half bottle each night and continuing our research back at our apartment (we lived the high life in Porto).  We didn't leave Porto worrying that we hadn't had the full port experience, that's for sure.

Port Education

So this is what we've picked up from our time in Porto (and maybe a little bit of Google to jog my memory).  You may want to skip this section if you find port boring.  In saying that, you're probably reading the wrong post if you don't have the slightest bit of interest in port.

Port can be broken down into two broad categories: wood (cask) aged; and bottle aged.

Under the wood aged you have:

White Port - strangely enough they use white grapes and are generally aged between two to three years in large casks.

Ruby-Reserve-Late Bottled Vintage Port - all of these are aged in medium and large casks with the key distinction being the length of time spent in the cask.  Rubies generally spend two to three years in the cask, Reserves a touch longer and LBVs between four to six years.  As opposed to Tawny ports the use of larger cask sizes results in the final product taking on less oak character.

Tawny Port - aged for ten, twenty, fifty, one hundred years in small casks before being blended and are your most complex and most highly oaked of the wood aged ports.

A 40 year old Tawny may have been blended using vintages that range from a few years old to almost 100 years old.  The 40 year title is just a reference point to its quality and complexity rather than a reflection of its exact age.

And the bottle aged (it's almost over!):

Vintage Port - uses the finest grapes of one particularly outstanding year and is aged for just two to three years in casks.  Once bottled the intention should be to age the port for many further years as is it will continue to develop in the bottle.

To summarise (and our biggest "ahhhhhh" moment of the tour), only Vintage port should be aged in the bottle (on its side of course).  All wood aged port can't age any further seeing as it's filtered prior to being bottled and is bottled to be drunk then.  What I'm trying to say here is that you now have an excuse to dust off all of those Tawnys in the back of your booze cupboard and crack them now!  Well, finish reading this first.

Game of Sandwiches

The other thing you do in Porto is eat sandwiches.  Last week I told you about our new sandwich king and the challengers to his throne.  En garde!

The Francesinha

Francesinha roughly translates as little French girl in Portuguese and it was invented by a returning emigrant from France and Belgium.  It's a bit like a glorified, gluttonised (not a word I know) Croque Monsieur (which in itself is a fancy man's ham and cheese toastie).  It has since become somewhat of a food mascot for the people of Porto.  It is now also very well renowned across the globe and regularly pops up in 'Top 10 Sandwiches of the World' lists.

The sandwich itself consists of cured ham, linguica (cured sausage), a chipolata-like sausage and roast meat wrapped in two thick slabs of white bread, it's covered in melted cheese and drowned in a hot, thick tomato and beer sauce and is served with french fries.  Sounds good on paper right?  Well, as Dad always told me, a team of champions doesn't necessarily make a champion team.


You watch the sandwiches being made and watch people around you tucking into them and you're thinking in your head that this is going to be legendary.

Then your sandwich arrives (after you've waiting in line and at your table for over an hour) and this overbearing wave of gluttony and guilt washes over you.  And unfortunately the juice (or the few days worth of calories in this case) isn't worth the squeeze.  It's just bleh.  You feel dirty whilst eating it and you feel dirty after eating it.  It's not really a pleasant experience.  And these were our feelings after just sharing one (yes the photos above are of just a half sandwich each).

We were glad to have tried it and Casa Bufete was an authentic feeling place to have done it at but never again.  I admit that it may not have been the best example of a Francesinha but I fail to see what you could do differently to that set of ingredients for me to actually enjoy it and think that it tastes good.

The Francesinha is no King of ours.

The Pernil

A massive shout out to this guy for getting us onto these.  His rep was on the line and he came through with the goods.  Nix was an easy sell, Mike had her at the word "cheese".  I was a touch more sceptical, I don't get into bed with any old sandwich.


The Casa Guedes Pernil comes in a lightly toasted bun that's loaded up with slices of pork, that had been carved off the bone and allowed to sit in a stock of its own juices, and your choice of optional extras where the soft, gooey mountain cheese is highly favoured.  Once again, the theory that pork in a bun is just pork in a bun has been debunked.  This is a great sandwich.

As per normal for us, we didn't feel as though having these sandwiches once did them justice so we returned for a second and third time.  On the third time we discovered how good they go with the house Vinho Verde.  And I also discovered that adding pata negra (cured pork) lifts the bar again.  Wow.  Two bottles and two Pernils each later we wandered home rather merry and very satisfied.


You come to Porto for the Francesinha and you stay for the Pernil.  The Francesinha is the girl that you wake up alongside and question your prior nights decision making and the Pernil is the girl that you take home to your mother.  I'd say it's like Nicola but at no point was the sandwich a bitch to me.

I believe we have not found a new King here but may have found our sandwich Queen.  The Bifana and the Pernil, our sandwich King and Queen.  Imagine their little porky babies.

Another thing Mike, your move re the poor song/poor blog title.  I enjoyed 'We Do Ron Ronda'.  I believe there's a high correlation between our partners' disgust and the quality of the title.  Onward and downwards.  Yah!

Barrie-ometer of "Feel"yip yip yip yip yip yip

Thursday 27 March 2014

Lisboa, it's a goer?

Yes, yes it certainly is.

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.











Applying the Scientific Method in Lisboa

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!

Monday 24 March 2014

Thrilla in Sevilla

The 530AM start, the expensive taxi, the guy trying to squeeze a few "euros" out of us for his apparent assistance in procuring the taxi, the three and a half hour ferry delay and missing three different buses.  All irrelevant details in the quest for this moment, reacquainting ourselves with our good buddy.


Fifty days without booze was an impressive feat but it was soon ancient history once we'd hit Spain.  It's a fifty day stretch that will probably never be replicated again.  I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted liver.

The Churros (!) 

Each day started with a cone of these crispy, crunchy little treats.  Picture for a moment how good you'd imagine these to be.  Now double it.  They were that good.



Tapas Time

The Sevillanos have certainly mastered how to eat and drink properly.  Ordering just a few small plates of food with a couple of cervezas or sherries at one bar before moving onto the next and doing the same again is absolutely genius.  It's particularly enjoyable for Nix who always wants to eat a little bit of everything and also for me given my short food and drink attention span.

Los Coloniales

Our favourite out of the ones that we hit.  Unpretentious, nice staff and v high deliciousness to price ratios.  An accidentally ordered chicken with almond sauce, lettuce hearts with anchovies and honey smothered, deep fried eggplant.  All brilliant.

Oh, and some Jamon Iberico.  O. M. G.  "It's like the pigs are running on my tongue".  "It's as though angelic pigs are pissing on my tongue".  Enough said.


Bodeguita Romero 

Little burgers (pringas) filled with fatty, juicy pork and Spanish blood sausage (morcilla).  SOLD!


Casa Morales

Our unexpected find.  We whiled away countless hours here familiarising ourselves with all things sherry related.  Simple yet good food hit the spot too.


Las Golondrinas

A little wander across the Guadalquivir River into Triana and we were stood at the bar at Las Golondrinas .

Who thought radishes drenched in olive oil and covered with rock salt could taste so bloody good.  The garlic champignons weren't bad either.  We even contemplated getting stuck into the half finished plate of champignons next to us.


El Rinconcillo

The alleged oldest Tapas bar in Sevilla.  It first opened its doors in 1670.  In Australia in 1670 the Dutch knew that a Down Under existed however the POMs hadn't even set foot there yet.  And there were the Sevillanos, enjoying the Jamon Ibirico and their sherries whilst we were just a twinkle in Captain Cook's eye.

They certainly still keep up appearances here.  Waiters wear suits, the ancient meat hooks still hang where they've hung for decades and everything is kept in impeccable condition.


We had my tapa of Sevilla here too, Espinaca con Garbanzos, a simple spinach and chickpea dish.  Simple yet amazing.

Alfalfa

The kind of bar that you'd love to call your local.  Tasty Tapas, cheap drinks, welcoming staff and that well-worn, sort-of homely feel to it that's impossible to buy.


Eslava

A classy little affair that gave us some dirty little pork ribs in honey sauce.  Niiiiice.


Taberna El Panduro 

A little bit lacking in atmosphere when we were there for lunch but the curry spiced chicken on a bed of lettuce and guac with an Asian dressing more than made up for that!


Dos de Mayo

Not the worst, far from the greatest.  It felt a bit too clean cut and a bit too touristy for our liking.  Their pork in whiskey sauce, a Tapas staple, was a big let down.

La Bodega 

A sister bar to Dos de Mayo and it seemed to do right what that did wrong.  A lot more authentic, the pork cheek that we had was spot on and all other food that went past our noses made us salivate more and more.


Bodega Santa Cruz

Ending on the worst.  Holy shit balls this was bad.

I won't say anything more than coming here gave me the same feeling as watching the ragged old sex worker go at it in Amsterdam.  Same shit, different day.


Honourable Mention - San Telmo

Not so much a Tapas bar as a Tapas style restaurant but deserving of a plug nonetheless.  Amazing, amazing, lemon meringue pie and our introduction to oloroso.


Embracing Siestas 

Arriving in Spain necessitated a change of routine.  When dinner doesn't begin until after 830pm a late afternoon siesta is in order.  And how sweet it is.

Out you head at about 9ish, refreshed and ready to eat and booze yourself stupid.  As I said, the Sevillanos have this shit sussed.

Oh, and Sevilla itself isn't a bad looking city either.