Showing posts with label Portugal-Alentejo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Portugal-Alentejo. Show all posts

Sunday 15 October 2023

The Alentejo: Eating and Drinking 2023

Good Food with Regional Character at Reasonable Prices


Portugal
Our first visit to the Alentejo in modern times (1980s camping trips don’t count) was to Évora in 2016. The resulting blogpost was overlong, so the pleasures of the local cuisine were hived off into a separate post called ‘Two Dinners in Évora’. Seven years, four more visits and several dinners later that post has morphed into this one, a companion to Eating the Algarve 2023.

The Alentejo: Where and What is it?


The modern districts
Alentejo Province
The Alentejo was one of Portugal’s traditional seven provinces and as the left-hand map suggest it was by some way the largest (and the most sparsely populated). In 1933 it was hacked in half, the northern Alto Alentejo with its capital at Évora and the southern Baixo Alentejo centred on Beja.

After the 1974 Carnation Revolution (the military coup from which Portugal emerged as a modern parliamentary democracy) the provinces were replaced by 18 districts (right-hand map). Beja district is the old Baixo Alentejo minus a coastal chunk (the Alentejo Litoral) which is now in Setubal Dsitrict, the Alto Alentejo is split between the  Évora District and Portalegre Districts. This post is based in meals eaten in Évora, Beja, MértolaCastro Verde and Serpa – I have marked and ringed these as precisely as I can. The Alentejo may no longer officially exist (except to the Comissão Vitivinícola Regional about whom more later) but the concept of the Alentejo remains strong and the word is in everyday use.

A Confession

Before getting on with the food, a confession: I have spent far more time in the Algarve than the Alentejo and my knowledge of the Alentejo cuisine, having progressed through infancy, has now reached the stroppy teenager stage. This post, then, is far from comprehensive – and may even, despite my best efforts, contain errors!

Meat

The Alentejo has only a small section of coastline and the districts of Portalegre, Évora and Beja are as far from the sea as Portugal can be, so meat is more important here than in the fish-eating Algarve. With that information, I will start with lamb and work my way up to pork, the most important meat in the region...

Lamb (Borrego)

Lamb in Portuguese is also called Cordeira. What the difference is, if any, remains a mystery. In Serpa, the Restaurante O Alentejano was recommended by the friendly staff at our hotel. We found their meat dishes a little heavy, but ate there twice, largely beacuse we could not find anywhere else open on the Wednesday.

On the first evening I had leg of lamb, a dish with a single word Portuguese name, which was much lauded in Trip Advisor reviews. I cannot remember the name, nor can I now find the reviews, but I was disappointed. The lamb seemed to have been roasted, then cut up and dropped into a garlicky broth. The lamb was not the best, or had not been treated well, and the broth seemed underpowered.

Leg of Lamb, O Alentejano, Serpa 2023

On our second visit, Lynne had lamb cutlets. There was little to go wrong here, and the quantity of meat was enormous.

Lamb chops, O Alentejano, Serpa 2023 This was the quantity on the serving plate when Lynne paused for a second wind. 

The other two dishes involved were Porco Preto for Lynne and Carne de Porco à Alentejano for me. Both appear later at different restaurants.

Rabbit (Coelho)

Great Britain is an island hopping with rabbits, but despite this natural resource it is easier to find rabbit on a Michelin starred menu than in a supermarket. Lean and well-flavoured, it should be among the most popular and cheapest of meats, but it isn’t. Restaurant Migas in Mértola (photo: scroll down some way) has no pretentions, but in 2017 it offered Lynne a welcome opportunity to eat a well-cooked rabbit.

Wild Boar (Javila)

At the similarly unpretentious Tamuje, in the same small town, I enjoyed wild boar; the choicest morsels, simply cooked and moistened with the rich garlicky cooking broth and served with salad and potatoes.There was more chew than you get with a regular pig, and with a slightly different, slightly stronger flavour. I liked it very much.

Lynne's Porco Preto, my Javila (wild boar) and a bottle of Herdade dos Lagos, Tamuje, Mértola, 2017

Lynne, meanwhile, enjoyed porco preto cooked and served the same way, which introduces the most important beast in Alentejo cuisine...

Pork

The finest pork comes, indisputably, from From the Iberian black pig (porco preto).

Iberian black sow, from the 2019 post Pigs, Ham and Tapas (Andalusia)

Keen observers might notice the pig is not really black, the name comes from the glossy lacquer-like blackness of the trotters.

Iberian black pigs – believed to be a cross between domestic pigs introduced by the Phoenicians and wild boar - have been raised in central southern Spain and Portugal for millennia. They live a pampered life roaming in herds among the sparse oak forests feeding mainly on acorns.

Porco is Portuguese for ‘pig’, there is no word for ‘pork’, menus always refer to pig meat, Carne de Porco Preto. It is, of course, the pig that is black, or at least its trotters, not the meat which is normal pork colour.

The Spanish make a big fuss over their Jamón Iberico produced from these pigs, the finest of which fetches astronomical prices. We enjoyed three days in Andalusia in 2019 on an Iberian Ham extravaganza (three blogposts, for the first click here). The Portuguese produce ham, too, but this post concentrates more on the regular pork.

I first encountered Porco Preto in 2016 at Restaurant Malagueta in Évora and from the very first forkful I realised that there was something special on my plate.

Menu, Casa do Alentejo, Castro Verde, 2022

Migas is the usual accompaniment to porco preto, and is often named first, Migas de Espargos c/ Carne de Porco Preto as it says in the Casa Alentejo menu above. Migas is made from leftover bread (or sometimes potato) mashed and seasoned and mixed with garlic and olive oil and either tomato or asparagus. It is very heavy; the first time I ate migas and porco preto there were also chips on the plate and I dutifully scoffed the lot. I did not immediately realise how much I had overeaten, but 48-hours passed before I could face more food. This time I took a small portion from the slab on the serving plate – and was better for it.

Just a little migas with Carne de Porco Preto, Casa Alentejano, Castro Verde, 2022

The precise cuts of Porco Preto are important in Spain and Portugal, The menu tells me I had magro, abanico e cachaço (lean, fan and neck). I don’t know which was which but they were all excellent. Under Talho (Butcher) I could have chosen lagartos (lizards(?!)), secretos (secrets) presa (plunder) or plumas (feathers) wonderfully descriptive words even if I would not know one from another.

Bochechas de Porco em Vinho Tinto. Pork cheeks stewed in red wine may not be unique to the Alentejo, but they are very much at home here.

I have seen recipes that use porco preto, but after it has marinated in red wine for several hours and then stewed in the same wine for several more, I suspect a special pork – or a high-quality wine – would have lost its finesse. This is hearty, rustic food; the firm wine-dark slabs of porky loveliness need only a salad, maybe a few chips and a jarra de vinho tinto to be totally satisfying.

Rabbit (Lynne) and bochechas (me), Restaurant Migas, Mértola, 2017

Pousadas are relatively upmarket hotels that specialise in regional dishes. At the Beja Poussada the attempted elevation of the dish by adding a poached pear, cinnamoned close to inedibility, just seemed odd. Bochechas are fine as they are, leave ‘em alone. Lynne was eating asparagus migas with porco preto – they did not mess with that. Fortunately the slab of migas was modest in size.

Dinner at the Pousada Convento, Beja, 2018

Carne de Porco à Alentejano

As in the Algarve the link between meat and fish is provided by pork and clams, though the clams go unmentioned in the dish’s title. In the Algarve pork and clams are cooked in a cataplana, in the Alentejo the pork and potatoes are pan fried and then join the clams in a rich brown, garlicky sauce.

Carne de Porco à Alentejano, Casa Aletejano, 2022, Castro Verde

The dish is occasionally available in the Algarve, the finest I have ever eaten was at Dois Irmão in Faro. Lynne was disappointed with her Carne de Porco à Alentejano at the Casa Alentejano in Castro Verde, there were only seven clams, and four of those seemed to be cockles, a related but different animal. I did better in 2023 at the O Alentejano (there is a theme merging with these names!) in Serpa. I had 12 clams, and they were all clams.

Fish and Seafood

For centuries - or millennia, the districts of Beja, Évora and Portalegre were too far from the sea for fresh fish to be transported. There are no natural lakes and most rivers only run for a few months a year, so there was no tradition of fish eating - except for....

...Bacalhau.

'Bacalhau' is Portuguese for cod, but when used on its own means 'salt cod', fresh cod is always bacalhau fresco. Portuguese fisherman were catching cod on the Grand Banks off Newfoundland as early as the 1500s. To get the fish home in edible condition it was first landed and then salted in Newfoundland, Nova Scotia or, later, Iceland.

Salt cod was cheap, light and easy to transport across land or sea, and soon became the main source of protein for the Portuguese peasantry. Soaking is the first step to making it palatable and resourceful and imaginative people developed a range of recipes - there said to be 365 - so they could eat bacalhau everyday but still enjoy variety. In time the wealthier classes realised they were missing something good and bacalhau soon became the national dish of all Portuguese people.

The Portuguese love affair with salt cod has continued. There is no longer any need to preserve cod in this way, but every corner shop and supermarket has rustling sheets of salt cod -  loose, not pre-packed - for shoppers to sort through and select what they want.

Pataniscas de Bacalhau.Theis year (2023) I ate pataniscas de Balcahau in Restaurante Molho Bico in Serpa.

Pataniscas de Bacalhau with rice and beans, Restaurante Molho Bico, Serpa, 2023

A patanisca is made by frying shredded bacalhau with onion in a wheat flour and egg batter. It was served with a bowl of rice and beans and a good salad (not photographed). This is comfort food, not haute cuisine, but like all great comfort food it is rich, savoury and very satisfying.

Other Fish and Seafood

The age of the refrigerated lorry arrived decades ago, so inland Portugal has all the fish it wants, though it can never be as fresh as it is beside the sea. In 2022 we both ate Polvo à Lagareiro (Octopus Lagareiro -see Eating the Algarve for more details) in the oddly named Planície Gastronomia Criativa (Plain Creative Gastronomy‽) in Castro Verde.

Chocos This year (2023) Lynne ate chocos (cuttlefish) while I was eating my Bacalhau. Like Polvo this is more of an Algarve speciality, though it rarely appears on tourist orientated menus. It is a favourite of Lynne's, but to me it looks like a yolkless fried egg.

Cuttlefish, Restaurante Molho Bico, Serpa, 2023

Cataplana Alentejano may not really be ‘a thing’, but it was on the menu at Mr Pickwicks in Évora. The cataplana is a traditional Algarve cooking vessel so this may be ‘cultural appropriation’ (which is, apparently ‘a thing’) but we ordered it anyway. It was opened at the table producing a waft of inviting odours. Inside were huge chunks of deeply flavoured stewed pork, tiger prawns (of Thai origin?), mussels, crab claws and, of course, clams. Everything was steeped in a broth of the usual Portuguese suspects, tomato, peppers, garlic and coriander with chunks of potato boiled in the broth.

Inside the cataplana, Mr Pickwick's, Évora, 2016

It was wonderfully messy – getting your hands in is the only way to deal with prawns and crabs - and in every way delightful. The clams had a yellowish shell with a distinctive black tip. In October we bought and cooked some identical clams and discovered they originated in Vietnam. In November we ate the same clams both in Hong Kong and Macau. Algarve clams have been over-exploited, these are good, cheap and (for the moment) plentiful.

Cheese

Portugal has eleven cheeses that have been awarded PDO (Product of Designated Origin), three of them (Évora, Serpa and Nisa) come from the Alentejo. I was unaware of Évora cheese when we visited in 2016, but Nisa is available in the Algarve and we visited Serpa this year (2023) partly with the cheese in mind.

Nisa & Serpa

Nisa is a small town in the Portalegre district, Serpa a small city in the Beja district. Both produce sheep’s milk cheese using unpasteurised milk curdled using an extract from the cardoon thistle.

Nisa is classified as 'semi-hard,' has a dense texture and is (usually) yellowish white with a subtle flavour and an acidic finish. My pictured example was not particularly yellow inside nor was an 'acidic finish' particularly obvious, but the relatively mild flavour was undoubtedly complex. The Wine Spectator cheese edition ranked Nisa among their 100 Great Cheeses.

Queijo de Nisa

Serpa looks quite similar but is softer and a little stronger than Nisa. Its style is known as amanteigado meaning buttery and Forever Cheese describe it as strong and complex with sheepy, sour and buttery notes. That seems about right to me.

Queijo de Serpa

Other Cheeses

Alentejo produces a large quantity of less exalted cheeses. The picture below shows another favourite Alentejo sheep’s cheese (left), I also like the paprika dusted version. The cheese on the right is from the Azores; the Portuguese Islands, 1000km out in the Atlantic, are a major producer for the mainland market.

An Alentejo sheep's cheese (left) and an Azores mixed milk cheese (right)

Although I have cut wedges from these cheeses, the usual Portuguese way is to slice across the cheese, see Sepa above. The rinds are, with rare exceptions, edible

Wine

Alentejo may no longer exist for purposes of local government, but the Comissão Vitivinícola Regional recognises an Alentejo Denominação de Origem Controlada that covers large parts of the Évora and Portalegre districts. Eight subregions (Borba, Évora, Granja-Amareleja, Moura, Portalegre, Redondo, Reguengos, and Vidigueira) can use their own name as well as ‘Alentejo’ on the label.

Borba Tinto

The reds are soft, juicy and easy drinking. Borba is the largest sub-region (by production) and I have always enjoyed the wines from the local co-operative which are inexpensive, widely available and guaranteed to bring a smile to the face.

Encostas de Serpa, Vinho Regional

The whites tend to be more austere. They don’t win prizes in blind tastings, but paired with the right food they have a way of opening out and complementing the flavours of the dish. This is what they were designed to do, and they are very good at it. The Reguengos we drank with the cataplana Alentejano in Évora and the Vidigueira with the polvo in Castro Verde were particularly satisfying.

There is much DOC Alentejo wine, but there is even more Vinho Regional Alentejano, a classification for more basic wines, or for winemakers reluctant to follow the strict rules of DOC. I tend to go by cost rather than precise appellation, at any price point up to €10-12 Alentejo, or Alentejano wines can be relied upon for excellent value

And Finally

Light lunches in small cafés are rarely gastronomic, and not always light. The toastie is universally popular, the word long ago incorporated into Portuguese. Sometimes a ‘sharing toastie’ can look….

It's a sandwich, Jim, but not as we know it, Café 7arte, Castro Verde 2022

….immense.

Thursday 29 September 2022

Castro Verde (2): Castro Verde and Ourique

Roman Lamps, Windmills and an Almost Vanished Castle

Portugal
Castro V. Parish

28-Sept-2022

Castro Verde (1) ended with a lunchtime toastie after we had found the town’s two main churches tightly locked. Castro Verde (2) starts with a couple of rather more successful visits.

Southern Portugal showing locations of Castro Verde, Ourique and Faro (the capital of the Algarve)
Castro Verde and Ourique are approx 100 Km north of Faro

Roman Lamp Museum

We lingered over lunch then strolled south through the narrow streets beyond the Basilica of Nossa Senhora da Conceição….

Past the Basilica, Castro Verde

….until we reached the former Armazem de Produtos (warehouse) of the company of Senhor Prazeres, his brother and successors. A smaller sign by the door informed it is now the Museu da Lucerna, the Museum of Lamps.

The Lamp Museum, Castro Verde

A 1994 archaeological dig in the village of Santa Bárbara dos Padrões (we visited yesterday) unearthed, among other things, a collection of Roman era (1st-3rd centuries CE) oil lamps.

A collection of other artefacts from the dig, Museum of Lamps, Castro Verde

Many years ago, we visited a small Etruscan museum in the hills above Florence. Most of the good stuff had gone to the city or to Rome, but they had left enough interesting artefacts to justify a small local museum - and they had also left the oil lamps. A hundred or more were on display, all simply constructed and largely identical. I held out little hope for a museum majoring in lamps.

Some basic lamps, Museum of Lamps, Castro Verde

But I was wrong, there were some basic lamps but most on show were decorated with household gods, simple objects, scenes from everyday life….

Assorted decorated lamps, Castro Verde

…animals…

Wolf on a lamp, Castro Verde

…and characters and beasts from mythology. Among the best, a winged horse set amid other decorations.

Winged horse lamp, Castro Verde

The South End of Town

Continuing from the museum we soon reached the southern end of the small town. The north entrance had featured a roundabout on which sheep could safely graze, the southern end went more for snuffling pigs.

Pigs on a roundabout, Castro Verde

From the roundabout there was a pleasing view back to the Basilica, though it is a shame the church is not kept open.

Looking back to the Basilica, Castro Verde

The Windmill on the Largo de Feira

Beyond the roundabout is the Largo da Feira, a dusty open space used for fairs and markets, though mostly it serves as an overspill car park.

We had spotted the windmill as soon as we arrived, it is difficult to miss, but it had been closed. When we crossed the largo later in the afternoon on our way to the just-out-of-town supermarket beyond, we discovered it was now open.

The small pieces of pottery that can be seen attached to the ends of the spars and the connecting ropes are ocarinas, of a sort. The sales were tethered but there was a good breeze and they generated a continuous plaintive song, as if they wanted to be set free to turn.

Castro Verde windmill

No one knows quite how old the windmill is. It was included in a sketch of the square dated 1813, but is probably much older. It was closed in 1930 and was for a time used as a dwelling. In 2003 ownership passed to the local government and the windmill was fully restored. The door was open so we walked in and climbed the stairs. The internal mechanism was in full working order and ready to grind corn as soon as the sails were released.

Castro Verde windmill ready to grind corn

That happened while we were doing our shopping, and on our return the windmill was working and singing, just as it did a century ago.

Dinner

We dined at Planicie Gastronomia on Polvo à Lagareiro, octopus brushed with olive oil, and very good it was, too.

Polvo à Lagareiro, Castro Verde

For more about the pleasures of the table in Alentejo, see The Alentejo: Eating and Drinking.

We strolled back to our hotel beneath a pleasing crescent moon.

Walking back to our hotel under a crescent moon, Castro Verde

29-Sept-2022

Ourique

After breakfast we drove to Ourique, the main town of the adjacent municipality some 15 km to the west. Castro Verde is small but Ourique is smaller, though it boasts a castle and miradouro. It also shares its name with the legendary battle of 1139 which turned Count Afonso Henriques into King Afonso I, the first king of Portugal.

Unlike Castro Verde, which is flat, the northern end of Ourique sits on a hill rising from the surrounding plain. We left the IC1 at a sign to the castle and miradoura, following a small road that unsurprisingly wound its way upwards. We semi-intentionally drove round the top of the hill a couple of times attempting to orientate ourselves and find somewhere to park.

Miradouro

The Miradoura gives every impression of being built in 1915, and in 2000 was renamed the Miradoura Ramon Sobral in memory of a president of the local council in the 1970s and 80s.

The Miradoura Ramon Sobral, Ourique

It contains – or is surrounded by – a pleasant garden and has the sort of view that is mandatory for a miradouro.

The Plain of Ourique from the Miradouro

Afonso I and the Battle of Ourique

It also has a more than life size statue of King Afonso I looking appropriately warlike.

Lynne and Afonso I

Ourique Castle

The hilltop is the obvious site for a castle and there is alleged to be one linked to the exploits of Afonso I, but the earliest castle charter dates from 1290 and archaeology suggests that King Dinis (ruled 1279-1325) built over a Roman castro that had also been used by the Moors. Manuel I issued a new charter in 1510, but despite this documented history we could find no castle.

The castle was abandoned, probably in the 16th century, became a ruin and was ‘tidied up’ during the construction of the viewpoint. All that remains is one heavily restored wall.

All that remains of Ourique Castle

Igreja Matriz, Parish Church

The Parish Church of Santa Maria da Misericórdia, constructed on a shelf in the hillside below the castle is, in contrast, complete. It was built in the 18th century on the orders of King João V and inside there is, I read, much gilded baroque woodwork. The locals seem very keen on the application of dark blue paint to their churches, they are less keen to open them up.

Ourique Parish Church

We appeared to have the hilltop largely to ourselves. Most of the modern town sits on the gentler slope on the southern side of the hill. There we drove along a street with busy cafés and people going about their business. I feel I need to point this out, as our photographs yesterday and today show an almost complete absence of people (except us). This area is sparsely populated, but we did not visit a series of ghost towns, however it might look. The penultimate picture of this post will, I promise, prove we were not entirely alone.

Castro da Cola

Castro da Cola was next on our list of ‘things to visit in Ourique’, though we were not entirely sure what it was. Getting there involved driving a further 10km south on the IC1 before turning right onto a minor road. A few kilometres later we found a sign pointing up a well-maintained if tarmac-free track

After a 100m there was a track to our left with a ‘no entry’ sign. We carried on round the base of a hill to a T-junction with the Restaurante Castro da Cola one way and a farmyard and church the other, but no sign of the actual castro. The restaurant was closed, so we borrowed their car park while surveying the scene and wondering if Castro da Cola would prove as elusive as Ourique Castle.

Driving past the farmyard and the church – a smaller version of the Ourique parish church – we found the road looped round the base of the hill and then up across its eastern flank. There seemed to be something higher up, so we pulled off the road to take a look.

Igreja de Nossa Senora da Cola

Strolling upwards we found old walls and a sign board to help us make sense of them.

When and how this place became known as ‘Castro da Cola’ is not obvious, but we were standing in the ruins of a medieval fortified village formerly known as Marachique.

Castro da Cola

A garrison was accommodated at one end of the walled enclosure, while the dwellings of the villagers occupied the rest – and the more we explored the more we realised how extensive the settlement had been.

Castro dal Cola, garrison

Marachique was inhabited from the 10th to the 13th century, spanning the Islamic and Christian period, then it was apparently abandoned. Archaeologists have found vestiges of occupation from both Roman and pre-historic times so the site was occupied for many centuries, though to the modern eye it does not look an attractive site for a village.

Castro da Cola, dwellings

The Necrópole da Atalaia

Barely 2 km away as crow flies is the Necrópole da Atalaia. As necropolises go, this is not the most dramatic, but there is not much to see round here, and finding it promised a challenge.

The Plain of Ourique, like may plains, is not actually flat. There are no real hills (the small hill on which Ourique stands being an exception) and there are no deep valleys, but the scrub covered landscape is creased and wrinkled. It is also criss-crossed by an extensive network of well-maintained dirt roads.

My phone knew both the position of the necropolis and the lay-out of the dirt roads, so we bumped slowly along in our own personal dust cloud drawing ever closer to our quarry.

Eventually Doris (all sat navs are called ‘Doris’) suggested we turn up a smaller track that looked fine for a Land Rover, but unsuitable for a Renault Clio. I parked the Clio and we continued on foot.

I turned the Clio and parked beside the unsuitable track

We had only a few hundred metres to go, but the necropolis was not actually on the track, the sat nav positioning was imprecise and we already knew that it was signed only if you approach from the north. We came from the south, and after marching about the right distance and wandering around in the scrub for a while, we admitted defeat.

Lynne striding forth confidently to failure

It was no great disaster; I had already seen the pictures. The best available is on TripAdvisor, so if you want to see it, click here and prepare to be underwhelmed.

An Italian Dinner

We did little of interest in the afternoon. This area has a dry climate, the summer months being largely rain free, while in an average September they expect 24 mm (1 inch) of rain. Most of it fell that afternoon.

The evening was drier so we went in search of dinner. Apparently, we had struck the last week of the season and restaurants had been closing daily. Tonight, both our Plan A and B restaurants were shut up tight, but the Villa Itália was open and doing good business.

Along the Algarve’s holiday coast, restaurants of all styles abound, but finding an Italian restaurant (as distinct from the ubiquitous pizzerias) in rural Portugal felt odd. There was a time when Italy was poor, Italians emigrated and, in the UK, like the Hong Kong Chinese and Bangladeshis who followed them, many opened restaurants. But when Italy was poor, Portugal was poorer, this is not where they came.

The menu was Italian but the wine list was Portuguese and we ordered a bottle of Entradas, an Alentejano Vinho Regional with a Great Bustard on the label. We visited Entradas yesterday; the village produces wheat and olives, but we saw no grapes. The name is unprotected so the wine - good rusric stuff - could have been made almost anywhere in Alentejo.

Entradas wine, Villa Itália, Castro Verde (and a picture with other people in it!)

Lynne chose pizza, I went for gnocchi which was flavourful and comforting.

Gnocchi, Villa Itália, Castro Verde

30-Sept-2022

We headed south to the sun, sand and sangria of the Algarve.