We set out to explore Lisbon and grab a quick cup of Portuguese coffee for our walk. Today we’re heading for Alfama, the oldest neighborhood in the city. Apparently they started at the top and built their way down over the centuries, so there will be hills today.
Our first stop is the Church of Santo Antonio de Lisbon, or
Saint Ant’nee as we call him back in Jersey. Even though he’s most associated
with Padua, Italy, this namesake cathedral commemorates the saint’s birth here
in Lisbon. The exterior flowered wall
and ornate interior stands in stark contrast to the more stern Lisbon Cathedral
just a hundred meters away. We do marvel
at the sheer density of Catholic churches in this city, sometimes two on a
single block. It makes us wonder if they
vied for your business back in the day, and imagine them running a two-for-one
salvation special at the end of a slow quarter.
There are plenty a great viewpoints as we climb higher,
including 4 separate insta-ready spots within sight of the Saint Vincent
statue. Suckers for a good lookout, we
stop at all of them.
We pass Castle Saint George, the most popular attraction in
one of the most visited cities in the world.
It’s beautiful on the outside, but call an audible and choose to explore
the quiet, tiny streets of this lovely neighborhood instead of fighting the
castle crowds. For all the throngs of tourists,
the charming houses and compact apartments of the neighborhood remain largely inhabited
by locals.
Our walk takes us right past Miss Can, and my reaction is
audible for two reasons. First, Mandy
showed me this place during her travel planning and it looked adorable. Second, we skipped breakfast and I’m
starving. Even though there is an
abundance of fresh seafood in Lisbon, canned (or “tinned”) fish has been an important
staple since the 1850s. Not to be
confused with dreck that was found in the supermarket aisle in 1950s, 60s and
70s America, the shelf stable fish here is a fine cuisine in and of
itself. And that’s what Miss Can is all
about. The shelves of this diminutive shop
are lined with dozens and dozens of varieties, each wrapped in colorful paper
with artistic designs. You can grab and
go, but we choose one of the few little tables to dine-in instead. We choose four varieties, and the clerk/waiter
helps us add fresh bread and soft, local sheep cheese. We’re expecting to eat from the tins, but
what’s delivered is four beautifully plated dishes. First taste is of the tuna with pickles in
spicy oil. Mellow, mild with a touch of
heat. Next is mackerel in tomato, firm
and flavorful, a bit richer than the tuna.
Third is sardines in straight EVOO, a favorite of Mandy’s since childhood
at her grandmother’s house in Feltonville.
The last is my stretch, octopus in olive oil. I love octopus, Mandy, not so much, but even
she really liked it and we both agreed it was the best for dipping bread. All four are surprisingly not “fishy” and very
light on the salt. Everything pairs very
well with both Mandy’s house rose and my cold Super Bock.
Lisbon is known for its ornate tile work which adorns the
interior or exterior of virtually every building in some way, shape or
form. Along our walk, we see several
locations where traditional tile artists ply their craft, making everything
from single souvenir tiles to large, elaborate tile murals. Of course, the natural extension of the tile
craft is that there is an vibrant ceramic arts culture here as well and we have
fun wandering the shops and meeting some of the artists.
Up, up, up to the highest point in the city. The nuns musta picked first cause the views
from the convent are spectacular. They
even though to put in a rooftop bar, but we are still a bit buzzy from lunch,
so we snap a few pic and roll on to check out the church and nearby park. Walking on, the street art, catches our eye,
but we’re a bit suspect about the underlying messages.
We come across the towering Monastery of Sao Vincente de
Fora and decide to invest a few euros in the tour. It’s enormous and makes us wonder what you
needed all the space for if you just sat around all day chanting and making booze. The tilework is some of the most impressive
we’ve seen and the architecture ornate yet clean.
It’s a long walk back down to our hotel at sea level, and we
immediately head up the other side to Bairro Alto. If Baixa is Touristo Centro and Alfama is for
the height of religion, Bairro Alto is the perpetually gentrifying, funky,
bohemian neighborhood. Forged by the
traditions of the dissenting free press in the late 1800s, the streets still verberate
with the political and musical undertones of SoHo or Paris. We stop to see the Carmo Church, built in the
late 14th century then mostly destroyed in the Great Earthquake of 1755. We find that the remaining bones, soaring
columns and arches, with no roof left to support, suggest the existence of God
more powerfully than any intact religious structure we have ever been in. If this was a painting, you’d call the roof
“negative space”, but the blue blue sky pouring in through the few standing
trusses and buttresses is cause for belief in, and joyous celebration of, a
higher power. Oh yea, and there’s a cat.
It's afternoon in Europe, so we do the afternoon in Europe
thing. Find a table outside of a little
café on a narrow street and order libations.
Just one though. We’ll need a nap
before dinner.
And what a dinner we have planned. Way off the beaten tourist path to Adega da
Tia Matilde – Aunt Matilda’s Wine Cellar – where we will hear no English spoke
for the rest of the night. Not by the
staff, the patrons or even our Uber driver.
This is strictly for the home team.
Thank god for Google translate, because between Mandy and I we know a
total of five Portuguese words. The cod
cake is essentially a fish fritter, crispy outside, flavorful in and I still
can’t believe you can make anything taste this good from that white, powder
covered hunk of fish jerky we say in the market. We see what in Spain we would call a Jamon
Iberico and ask them what they call it here, the waitress proudly says
“prosciutto”, so now we have a dish of delish, thinly sliced cured ham and our
sixth Portuguese word. The whole grilled
sea bass is paired with a white “Quartz” wine from the Duoro Valley, the
minerality bouncing nicely off the well prepared fish. We just want to be here a bit longer, so some
pantomime ensues that results in us receiving a few digestiefs. Mandy is presented with a pour of Beirao, the
local herbal liquor equivalent of amaro (but sweeter) and the owner mixes me an
almond liquor with a giant squish of lemon which ends up being a surprisingly
satisfying way to end our night.
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