Iberian Spring: Day 4 Lisbon

Soundtrack: “Swimming Horses” Siouxsie and the Banshees

Our last full day in Lisbon, and we’d booked a food tour to make sure we got a taste of just about everything that one muse consume in Lisbon. It was a walking tour, a mix of history and culture with stops for food, and we were promised at least 17 different tastes of Lisbon (to be honest I can’t count to 17 in Portuguese, so if I go through listing stuff and you count it as less than 17, please don’t tell me). The tour info said to eat a little something before the start, as the first couple of stops were fairly light snacking, so I had my jam-filled sausage roll that I bought a couple of days ago. It was good, had survived in the fridge okay, short pastry and sweet possibly stone fruit jam filling.

Our guide R took us from the big arch, after explaining a bit about how everything was rebuilt after the earthquake. With so little surviving, the various authorities took the opportunity to take an 18th century equivalent of a bulldozer to what was left, and in one of the first examples of deliberate modern urban planning, rebuilt with a great deal of symmetry. So the main waterfront square is enclosed by identical buildings on two sides, the third featuring the big arch. Buildings on each side of the road all outwardly reflect each other. The streets form a neat grid. All planned and rebuilt (compare to London, where by the time they started looking at rebuilding after the 17th century fire the locals had already come back and started making their own urban plans, so no nice grid for you).

R also took us through Lisbon’s Roman history as a walled city where they left the folks who make fish sauce outside the walls, and having been to a fish sauce factory in Viet Nam I understand it’s a no brainer. Like all good former Roman cities, Lisbon has a maze of underground tunnels where rivers and streams used to flow before being put to use for its citizens. We stood above one such place, where a few times a year, but sadly not today, they open up the street level access and take tours down through the old Roman city.

Our first food stop was Manteigaria Silva, a cheese and charcuterie shop. Here we tasted some amazing cheese from the Azores, first a 12 month matured, and then, when one of the group stepped up and offered to buy a chunk of an older cheese, we tried the 3 year old. While a cow’s milk cheese, the volcanic nature of the Azores gives its produce a slight mineral depth, so we were all thinking it was a sheep milk cheese. We also had a glass of port, a fairly young sweet drop, locally made cornbread, and some Portuguese ham which was delicate and delicious.

Our next stop took us into the older parts of Lisbon. We took a brief wander through what must be Lisbon’s unluckiest church, Ingreja de Sao Domingos. First built in the 13th century, it was the site where many “New Christians” (i.e. Jews forced to assimilate) were murdered by a “Christian” mob in 1506, then damaged by earthquakes in 1531 and 1755, the roof of the church burnt down in 1959 resulting in the death of two fire-fighters. As a result, the most recent restoration didn’t attempt to totally repaint and re-shiny the church, retaining its smoke damaged walls, possibly in the hope that god cuts them some slack.

R then took us up the hill to where Lisbon’s first muslims built, and in typical muslim style they made it full of winding streets: practical for two reasons, to keep the heat of the sun away from street level, and to make it easily defendable. Knights on horseback are great for big open spaces but tend to fail miserably when it comes to close quarters urban fighting when they can be attacked from above and behind. It’s the sort of urban planning that makes cities like Fez damn near impenetrable. Fortunately we had a guide to take us to an old school fish restaurant in the maze. R took us through the numerous reasons why cod became so popular in Portugal, even though it’s not generally found in the vicinity of its shores. It all started with trading with the Vikings, they brought cod down from Scandinavia. Then once the Portuguese started sending out ships and “discovering”, drying and salting cod became a good way to keep the crews fed, as a good source of protein, and being low in fat it’s more suited to the preservation process. Then came the second world war where neutral Portugal was able to run its shipping fleets around the North Atlantic generally free from U-boats and Fairey Swordfish, giving the population a cheap and easy protein supply. While it’s not so cheap anymore, all these centuries have ingrained it into the cuisine, And it tastes good. At the restaurant we tried cod two ways: first the more traditional preparation served with thinly sliced potatoes, and the second prepared with red capsicum and a buttery sauce, both were delicious. We had this with vino verde, so called green wine from the region it’s produced rather than the colour of the wine itself. It’s possible to have red green wine, that isn’t a weird shade of brown. Fortunately today we had a white green wine, and it was a very quaffable and refreshing drop.

We headed a few buildings down to sample the results of Portuguese “discovery”. As the first European colonial power to spread its influence by sea, Portugal was trading all manner of ingredients from India, Indonesia, China, Africa, then the Americas, thus bringing together fish, potatoes, and curries before the British got into the game. They, like everyone else sadly, were also doing the whole trading in people thing as well. Following the end of the dictatorship in 1974, Portugal relinquished its former colonies in places like Timor, Mozambique, Angola, which generally didn’t go so great. One positive to come from this is the great diversity now apparent in Portugal, as a number of folks from the former colonies then migrated, bringing their food customs with them. So we had some samosas with a nicely sharp chilli sauce, followed by a wonderful and hearty bean stew, some mildly curried vegetables, and delightful coconut rice.

From here we headed past the Lisbon Cathedral, built on the remnants of a former mosque in the 12th century, which was likely built on the remnants of a former church or temple, and so on as these things go. We didn’t stop in, but I think we walked past the tower where a bishop was defenestrated in the 14th century. Seems that Bishops can travel up and down as well as diagonally. I was amazed that the supporting wires for the trams were fixed to the side of the building.

From here it was further into the maze of narrow streets, past many houses with all manner of unusual decorations on their walls. We found another public well, this one had water flowing out of horses heads, heads that had teeth. Just a little bit strange.

We finished the tour in a little tapas place, with some excellent red wine We started with some pickled octopus, which was delicious, and some tinned sardines in tomato sauce. Sadly we haven’t had the time on this trip to really get into the whole Portuguese tinned sardines thing. Tinned sardines are a source of national pride, they have stores dedicated to selling just these (for all I know they probably have their own museum too). These sardines were delicious, and on the little toasts reminded me of a childhood snack that I’d occasionally have. We followed the fish course with a blood sausage and a chorizo, which were covered in local firewater and then set alight in special dishes just for this purpose. Both tasted great: the chorizo wasn’t hard cured like I’m used to, it was a softer texture but still full of flavour, while the blood sausage was earthy and minerally. Then came pre-dessert, an unctuous soft serra cheese from the north of Portugal and a sweet jam that our guide asked us to guess the fruit, amazingly it turned out to be tomato. Finally came dessert, a creamy sweet slice of pudim — Portuguese custard flan similar to creme caramel — and smooth rice pudding with cinnamon. While L didn’t end up with a second serve this time, we were very full by the end. We bid goodbye to R after 4 hours well spent and headed off to our next mission as it started to rain.

It wouldn’t be travelling without a visit to a local gaming shop, so we hopped on the metro (after some confusion with the ticketing system as they have both above and underground trains and even though the yellow card tickets are identical, they only work on one or the other and it all depends which ticket machine you buy them from; pro-tip if you don’t want to get a disinterested shrug from the ticket information staff buy your ticket from the machine closest to the train you want to catch). On the tour one of the other participants had shared that Portuguese schools start at 8am and finish at 6pm, which probably explains why the gaming shop was empty. They had a bunch of tables for folks to play Magic and other games, but no one was there. We had a quick chat with the guy working there, and bought some dice.

L found a place called Rice Me, which unsurprisingly was a gluten free bakery cafe. It was her opportunity to get in on the portuguese sweet action, and she came away with a box full of treats. Their pasteis de nata were also the cheapest we’d encountered so far at 1.30 euro.

Our wander back from the metro station took us to a couple of bookshops. The first was a second hand shop, filled with oddities in many languages. We passed on the book about New Kids on the Block, and while tempted by a couple of titles in the Ficcao Cientifica section left empty handed. The second stop was Livaria Bertrand (no relation to Plastic Bertrand) recognised by the Guinness Book of Records as the oldest still operating bookshop in the world. Opened in 1732, the shop survived the 1755 earthquake, the various revolutions, dictatorships, and even survived having to sell the likes of jeffrey archer and joanne rowling. It was interesting to see a translation of R.F. Kuang’s Yellowface retitled as Impostura — I’m not across the intricacies of Portuguese language and culture to know how this semantically translates.

Back to the hotel for a rest and break from the drizzle, while I looked for where best to find francesinha. For those reading along at home and using some auto-translation program, I wasn’t looking for a french girl, I was looking for a sandwich. Created in Porto, the francesinha was likely created as a Portuguese take on a croque madame, hence the whole feminine french name. In it’s most traditional form the francesinha is a toasted sandwich filled with meet, covered with cheese and an egg, and then drowned in a sauce made from tomatoes and beer. In other words, a dish not recommended for any diet other than one to gain weight, increase cholesterol, raise blood pressure, promote reflux, toughen arteries, and boost the likelihood of developing diabetes. This sandwich screams bad news, and I had to have one before leaving Portugal.

While numerous reviews suggested Marco was the place for these in Lisbon, given the rain we didn’t fancy the 20-30 minute hike out there (there are apparently also a couple of places further out highly rated as well) so settled for Taberna Londrino, less than 10 minutes walk away, rated well by a few sites and offering several types of francesinhas (including a vegetarian option). They snuck us in without a reservation, and I went for the Porto style. For better or worse there was no gluten free option, so L went for a chicken and fried egg dish. I also tried one of Portugal’s most popular beers, Super Bock, which was a crisp and pleasing lager-type brew.

The francesinha came out in a large shallow dish, a toastie crested with a runny egg drowning under a sea of hot orange sauce. For me, sandwiches are made to be picked up and eaten, but unless you’re looking to erase your fingerprints or the idea of third-degree burns is appealing, this was knife and fork all the way. Four layers of meat — ham, sausage, hamburger, more ham — cheese, egg, a slightly spicy sauce made from beer (I suspect wine also as it had that kind of tang). Plus beer and a side of fries. As my heart hadn’t spontaneously exploded just from being in its presence, I took a deep breath and dived in. The bread had some crunch, the meat juicy, the sauce tangy. The extra egg yolk added rich goodness (like it needed more richness) and the cheese was a wonderful stringy addition. While I’m never going to have a life where this would be a daily meal, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I appreciate that anyone reading this who’s been to Porto is probably laughing or crying in dismay right now, and I acknowledge there’s a high likelihood of better francesinhas out there, this sandwich was definitely okay. Hopefully one day I’ll find myself in Porto and can checkout the real deal.

One last stop for souvenirs and it was back to the hotel, to write and digest before slipping into a food coma. Tomorrow’s the train and bus to Seville via Faro, so it’s set the alarm a little early to have packing time.