Loitering with intent in Lisbon 8

We were aware from our previous trip to Portugal that the Portuguese don't spend much time on their food. They lob a hunk of meat onto the grill and serve it some shredded lettuce, a potato and a dollop of mayonnaise. This is not cuisine, but rather food made suitable for human consumption by the application of heat, as the dictionary would say.

That certainly was the case during the summer in a beach resort, so we hoped Lisbon would be a bit more sophisticated on the foodie front. I have to admit however one of the key factors in deciding to visit the city was upon reading a newspaper article which announced that Lisbon is one of the cheapest cities in Europe for eating out. Would we find gourmet dining with our cornflake budget?

Yes and no. One of the best meals we had was in the shopping mall in the waterside Parque das Nações district. An afternoon in the aquarium had left us hungry, so starved in fact we found ourselves next door in the food court of all places. The place that caught our eye was Alentejo, promising specialties from one of Portugal's backwater regions. Although the food is served cafeteria-style, this is not your usual cafeteria fare.

Their official motto means 'Bread, Olive Oil and Garlic' but for us it meant 'yum yum yum.' I had their gourmet hamburger which was in a roquefort cheese sauce, topped with a runny egg and served with rice and chips. An enormous portion, delicious and very filling! Christian had flaked cod in a creamy sauce with hashed potatoes, also extremely tasty. Along with slices of almond cake in a sticky orange syrup and two glasses of freshly squeezed fruit juice, our bill came to a very easy-on-the-wallet €20.

Roast chestnut stalls

Most nights though we stayed in the flat and cooked for ourselves. One evening, possibly after our gut-busting experience at the shopping mall food court, we could only manage to nibble on a light supper of fresh bread, cream cheese, juicy tomatoes, a small bowl of olives, some crisps and a couple of beers. 'You'd turn your nose up if you came home after work of an evening and this was all that I put on table,' I said to Christian.

Lisbon deli

One evening we did venture out, ending up at an Italian pizza and pasta place which we dived into mainly because it was starting to rain and it seemed to be the only place open on the street. 'No pizza' the waiter said as he handed over the menus. No English either, it turned out, but I sussed out the waiter was able to understand my Spanish (although I think he was Italian). The beers we wanted weren't available either (about the only beer you can find in Lisbon is a lager called Super Bock).

Christian's salad turned out to be a platter of raw red cabbage, sliced, with anchovies on top. Maybe my Spanish isn't all it's cracked up to be. My salad was assembled from the finest shredded iceberg lettuce, a couple of pale and rubbery supermarket tomatoes, with diced onion. Christian then had an insipid lasagna and I had an eggy carbonara, which filled a hole for €30. I've spent a few minutes trying to find a map or link for the place, if only to warn people off, but haven't succeeded. Let's just say the next time you find yourself in Lisbon on a rainy night and you see an Italian restaurant, keep walking!

That's a lot of salted cod

Another evening we looked around the corner to see what our local neighbourhood had on offer. During the day I had spotted a small hole-in-the-wall type place that had a handwritten menu outside. I took a photo of the menu and used my pocket dictionary to translate most of it. When we returned that evening, the place was emptying, and although one of the diners who was leaving assured us 'it's good,' we were tempted instead by the bright lights and hubbub coming from a restaurant a few doors down called Oh Caldas.

How about...hmmm...some salted cod?

Whereas the first restaurant had white tablecloths and minimal decor, this was a rough and ready joint with bare wooden benches. Most of the seats were taken by Mozambican gangsters, except for a few tables along a cramped balcony overlooking the room. From there we could see the cook in her kitchen, frying eggs and chips as fast as she could. The entire restaurant was being served by only the one waiter and we gave up when we weren't even acknowledged by him after 15 minutes of waiting. Back to the our first choice, which now had a family of five dining as well.

The waiter latched onto us immediately, bringing over Super Bocks (again) and chewy bread kept fresh in a cloth bag. I was presented with the menu, which of course had changed since lunchtime so I didn't recognise any of the dishes from the menu I had translated earlier. We figured out what was chicken, what was pork and what was to remain mystery meat. Both the grilled chicken and pork came out with large plates of plain rice, chips and runny eggs (again). Despite the lack of any sauce it turned out to be tasty indeed, with the meat surprisingly tender. All for an absolute bargain €14. If you're in the Alfama neighbourhood, it's called Santa Rita and can be found at number 24 Rua de Sao Mamede.

Tuck in!

I don't have any photos for any of the above places, so the photos on this page are of random eateries and food stalls around Lisbon that caught my eye.

Click back soon and I'll have individual entries for our three favourite eateries: an authentic Moroccan (complete with belly dancer!), the famous pastry palace in Belem and a back street wine bar which dished up a fine dining experience with hand-picked wines and a fascinating history lesson to boot.