Tag: Portugal

Porto: a kaleidoscope of today’s Portugal

Porto: a kaleidoscope of today’s Portugal

A visit to Porto is a kaleidoscope of different aspects of Portugal: the old and the new, the vibrant and the sleepy, the glitzy with the derelict – overlaid with the cultural flavours of the country, some of them authentic, some of them artificial. We spent three nights in Porto at the start of a road trip from north to south of the country: here are some things we saw and some impressions.

One place that sums up many different faces of the city is the Livraria Lello. Built in 1906, it boasts truly stunning Art Deco architecture with a central staircase, pretty enough to have been described as “the most beautiful bookshop in the world” by a 2006 article in El País. That strapline has been taken up enthusiastically by the owners (along with the probably apocryphal story that the shop inspired scenery in the Harry Potter books), and the Livraria Lello now attracts zillions of visitors at €8 a throw, refundable against purchases. It’s clearly a favourite with the Instagram community, so you have to book your time of entry in advance online and keep to it. Most time slots sell out, at least in summer.

The bookshop is full of treats for serious and infrequent readers alike (a large section of José Saramago for the serious, beautifully bound translations of famous works of literature into many languages for the souvenir hunters. This is the Portuguese taking their heritage and turning it into a tourist attraction – and by the way, the owners use the profits to fund other heritage activities: recent ones include restoring a theatre and acquiring a classic book publisher.

Turning right on exiting the Livraria Lello, a short walk up a steep hill gets you to the Igreja do Carmo (Carmo Church) and Carmelite Monastery, whose outside shows you another omnipresent feature of Porto (and Portugal in general): exquisite blue and white wall tiles (“azulejos” in Portuguese – although confusingly, the word is not derived from “azul”, meaning blue). The ancient tradition of tile-making is alive and well, so you’ll see tiles everywhere: on inside or outside walls of buildings of every kind, on graves, as tableware. We even saw a set of gorgeous tiles in the humble interior of a coin-op launderette.

Steep hills, you’ll soon discover, are a feature of Porto. The city is built on a steep incline leading down to the river Douro, but that’s just the start: the topography just seems crinklier than other places, and you’re continually going up and down vertiginous inclines to get from one place to the next. It makes for spectacular views across the city from all manner of places, with most of the best viewpoints occupied (of course) by the many churches.

Working your way downhill from the Igreja do Carmo or the Livraria Lello and keeping the Sé (the cathedral) on your left, a maze of streets leads you down to the waterfront, known here as the Ribeira. On your way, you’ll see Porto in its full incarnation as a tourist centre, at all levels of the market. There are sleek, trendy-looking hotels, either new steel-and-glass or conversions of old buildings. Ordinary mid-priced hotels abound. You’re awash in  tourist-oriented “sample the local food” eateries offering pastéis de nata (the iconic Portuguese custard tarts), pastéis de bacalhau (rissoles filled with a white sauce made with salt cod and cheese) and other Portuguese staples, not to mention port and tonic for your aperitif. We found one shop entirely dedicated to attractively decorated tins of sardines (O Mundo Fantástico da Sardinha Portuguesa, which turns out to be a nationwide chain which even has an overseas branch in New York).

It wouldn’t be overly harsh to label a great number of the shops and eateries as standard tourist tat, with the concentration of those increasing as you approach the waterfront. But that would be to ignore the many places that are far more worthwhile. We ate fabulously inventive, modern cooking in a restaurant called Emcanto, recently opened by a couple of Brazilian chefs, that we came upon by accident (it didn’t seem to feature highly on the standard lists of TripAdvisor and friends). We saw it in a pretty cul-de-sac and were intending just to stop for a drink, but the welcome was so warm that we ended up staying for the food and were thrilled that we’d done so. As well as the traditional cafés, there’s an increasing number of the hipster variety: Nicolau was an excellent brunch place (we were lucky to get in, given that the place was packed to the gills shortly afterwards). But the place that epitomised the new Portugal for us – the one that’s attracting young people from all over the world to set up businesses – was Honest Greens, a chain with branches across Spain and Portugal. Its three founders were frequent independent travellers from France, Denmark and the US who were fed up with not being able to get healthy food; they’ve created the best places for a lunchtime salad that I know, with everything fresh, delicious and efficiently made to order (and at decent prices).

If, by the way, you go around the other side of the Sé (another steep climb, but you’re getting the idea by now), you can get phenomenal views of the city as you reach the spectacular Dom Luis I bridge towards Vila Nova de Gaia on the other side of the Douro, engineered by Théophile Seyrig, a disciple of Gustave Eiffel.

For fish and seafood, our hotel advised us to head in the opposite direction to the seaside suburb of Matosinhos, where there is a cluster of seafood places (the Portuguese name is “marisqueria”). It was about half an hour each way by car (the metro goes there but takes longer) and it was well worth the trip, with super-fresh fish cooked by people who evidently knew their trade. We were looking for simplicity and freshness rather than complex, fancy cooking, and that’s exactly what we got. By the way, the hotel warned us off any of the city’s options for tasting port, which it considered as all being tourist traps, recommending that we take a trip up the Douro river to the wine-growing region. It’s around 80 minutes each way and, sadly, we ran out of time to do it. Next time, hopefully, because it’s not just port that comes from the Douro region: we had some memorable red wines from there.

Our small hotel, the Jardins do Porto, was slightly north of the centre of Porto in an area whose economic state was decidedly mixed – at least as demonstrated by the state of repair of the buildings. The hotel itself had been beautifully done up and was being kept in immaculate condition. But that made it an exception compared to most buildings in the nearby streets, of which many needed a serious lick of paint at the very least and some looked quite dilapidated. We were told about two specific problems: firstly, too many landlords have tenants at very low controlled rents and hope to flush them out by leaving the properties to rot, and secondly, that the base value for property taxes gets updated only infrequently, so for many buildings, property taxes are so low that leaving a building empty is a viable option for the owner. One suspects that serious reform of the property tax regime is needed (as, to be fair, is the case in many European cities, not least my home city of London).

Away from the city centre, plenty of Porto is very modern. Just a couple of streets away from our hotel, the Trinidade shopping centre is suitably glitzy. A few streets away, in the main shopping area round the Rua de Santa Catarina, the Mercado do Bolhão (the historic market) has been done up beautifully. Half a kilometre west of the Igreja do Carmo, passing by a pleasant museum with more blue-and-white tiles, the Museu Soares dos Reis, the Super Bock Arena hosts all manner of music concerts, as well as (for a small fee) giving you the opportunity to take in a panorama of the city from the top of its dome. Next door to it is a pleasant small park, the Jardins do Palácio de Cristal, whose wandering cockerels and peacocks are a particular delight to small children. Walk north from there and you’ll pass a lot of modern apartment blocks and offices on the way to the city’s other big concert venue, the Casa da Música.

I’ve been in Lisbon and its surroundings relatively often, but this is the first time I’ve been to Portugal’s second city. It’s been a fascinating few days.

Around the world in 80 bakes, no.21: Pastéis de nata from Portugal

Around the world in 80 bakes, no.21: Pastéis de nata from Portugal

This recipe is dedicated to Conceiçao, who looked after me during many happy childhood summers in Portugal. There was only one option for the Portuguese bake: the little puff-pastry custard tartlets called Pastéis de nata – or Pastéis de Belém, in their most famous incarnation in the bakery in the Lisbon suburb of Belém, around the corner from the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos and opposite the monument to Henry the Navigator.

A Pastel de nata has two components: a puff-pastry case and its custard filling. There’s nothing particularly unusual about Portuguese puff pastry recipes, so you can use whatever recipe you like. Since puff pastry is fundamentally difficult, the alternative is to simply buy the stuff ready made, but if you do this, try to get an all-butter version or the flavour balance will be seriously off.

What is slightly unusual is the mechanics of the tartlet: the trick is to roll the whole sheet of pastry up tightly, Swiss roll style, then cut it into rounds. You flatten each round and press into the depression of a shallow cupcake or muffin tin to form the characteristic snail shell pattern in the flakes of the cooked pastry.

The custard is also unusual: it starts with a simple flour and water mixture; you then add hot syrup, then you cool the whole lot and add egg yolks; the custard is then baked in the tartlets.

I’ve started from two Portuguese recipes: one for the pastry and one for the pastéis themselves. If you haven’t made puff pastry before, the recipe contains a handy video showing you the technique far better than I can describe it.

The puff pastry

  • 300g plain flour (OO grade if you can get it)
  • 7g salt
  • 170ml water
  • 250g butter (if you can, use a high melting point butter like Président)

Your key objective throughout this process is to avoid the butter melting and leaking out through the sides of your pastry. If it’s a very hot day, which it was when I made these, you will need to put things back into the fridge frequently to keep them down to well below the melting point of the butter. You can tell from the cover photo that I wasn’t entirely successful.

  1. Take the butter out of the fridge. Time this so that when you get to step 3, the butter will be soft enough to roll but still cold enough to be in no danger of melting.
  2. Put the flour, water and salt into a bowl and mix thoroughly until you have a smooth dough. Form the dough into a ball, cut a cross in top (I have no idea why), cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes.
  3. Cut out two large sheets of baking parchment (perhaps 40cm long). Roll the butter between the two sheets to form as neat a square as you can manage: you want a constant thickness. Put the assembly back into the fridge.
  4. On a floured board, roll the dough until it’s slightly over twice the size of your square of butter.
  5. Removing the paper, place the square of butter onto one end of the dough, fold the dough over and seal the edges. Roll the dough out slightly more to make sure that it’s properly laminated.
  6. Fold the dough into three by taking one end to the middle and then the other end on top. Turn it by 90°, roll it out, fold into three again, then wrap with cling film and refrigerate.
  7. Repeat this process twice (if you want to follow the Portuguese recipe strictly, do a 4-way book fold as your second stage). Refrigerate for 20 minutes or more again.
  8. Have a set of muffin or cupcake tins ready. Grease them with a bit of butter.
  9. Roll the pastry flat, then roll the flattened pastry tightly into a cylinder. Cut the cylinder into slices: the recipe says 12, but my pastry came out a bit thick and I reckon that I should have tried to get a few more, perhaps 15 or 18.
  10. Flatten each slice into a circle with the flat of your hand and/or a rolling pin, then press each circle into a muffin tin so that it lines the bottom and sides.
  11. Refrigerate all of this while you make your custard.

The custard

  • 250 ml milk
  • Peel of one lemon
  • 150g sugar
  • 75 g water
  • 4 egg yolks
  • Ground cinnamon to taste

The tricky part of this recipe is to get as many of the lumps out as you can. Use a wire whisk and be ruthless with it!

  1. Preheat oven to 230℃
  2. Peel the lemon, keeping the peel whole in as few pieces as you can manage. Count the pieces. Keep the rest of the lemon for juice later.
  3. In a bowl, mix 100ml of the milk with the flour. Get as many of the lumps out as you can manage.
  4. In a saucepan, bring the remaining 150ml of the milk to the boil with the lemon peel.
  5. Pour in the flour/milk mixture and whisk vigorously, on the heat, for another couple of minutes until you have a thick paste. Remove from the heat and discard the lemon peel (that’s why you needed to count the pieces). You now have another opportunity to have a go with the whisk to get more of the lumps out.
  6. In another pan, mix the sugar and water. Bring to the boil and cook until you have a thick syrup. Mine got as far as 111℃ on a sugar thermometer, which is the top end of the “thread” stage, before it gets to “soft ball”.
  7. Take your pastry out of the fridge around now.
  8. A little at a time, dribble the syrup into your flour mix, whisking all the time. You can speed up towards the end: make sure the syrup and flour mix is as smooth as possible.
  9. Yes, you got it. It’s time to get the lumps out again. I did this by more frantic whisking: I suspect that passing it through a sieve might have been less work, at the cost of a bit of wastage and more washing up.
  10. Add the egg yolks and whisk until smooth

Assembly

  1. Pour the custard into the tartlets
  2. Bake for around 15 minutes. The custard should have blobs that are dark brown, on the verge of burning but not quite there; the pastry around the edges should look golden and flaky.
  3. Dust with a little cinnamon.
  4. Leave to cool for at least 10 minutes before serving. Pastéis de nata are fabulous straight out of the oven, but you don’t want to burn your tongue. Of course, you can have them cold later.
  5. The Portuguese would never pass up a chance to have these with a bica (short espresso).