Country Number 1

Country number 1 (of three) on my post-Espana EuroTour was Portugal. I don’t exactly know why I chose this small, yet culturally rich country as my first stop. My reasoning may have been that because I eventually want to see all of Europe, being so close to Portugal and not visiting it now would be inefficient (I’m studying economics). Efficiency aside, I know it was a great decision because, as I sit in the Milan airport on my way to country number 2, I already miss it.
For the month I have to travel, I am trying to stay in as few hostels as possible. In April, I joined an online community of travelers called Couchsurfing, which I will use as my main accommodation. The idea is that because I belong to the group, I can stay with other members of the group all over the world. Even though I am not set up to host in Boston, I am already looking forward to hosting Couchsurfers when I have my own place. It’s an ingenious concept with a very accessible website (I’m not advertising, really), but Couchsurfing only suits certain people. “Surfing” someone’s couch is a kind of homestay. In reality, I am staying with people in foreign countries whom I have never met. Thus far, these people have been Joana in Lisbon, Margarida in Cascais, and Judite in Porto. Each experience has been unique, but each host has been kind, generous, and overwhelmingly helpful.
I met Joana at her wonderful flat in an old part of Lisbon that reminded me of the houses in the Fan district of Richmond, Virginia. If you haven’t been there, the houses are mostly narrow and deep. Joana’s place is just like that, with high ceilings and white walls. I had luxurious accommodations having her guest bedroom all to myself. The first night, I learned more about the Portuguese economy, society, and culture than I ever expected to digest over one meal. I heard one of the very few critical voices of the Portuguese soccer craze. We discussed Portugal’s significance in the world and how America views it. We even touched on the relatively low minimum wage, and how prices match European countries with twice the median salaries. I wouldn’t have learned that much in a month if I stayed in hostels. It was just my first night surfing a couch, but I knew as I went to bed that this was definitely for me.
The next day, I had an amazing breakfast of fresh, warm, crusty bread with various cheeses and jams. Queso fresco is a fresh, firm, slightly salty white cheese delicious on the bread with some jam. I knew I was going to enjoy eating in Portugal when halfway through my breakfast, Joana’s boyfriend apologized for the bread being “too commercial.” Whatever that means. If this bread wasn’t considered great, then I couldn’t wait to try what was.
I wandered through Belem, a historic neighborhood 7 km from Lisbon center. The huge old cathedral was quite impressive, as were the creamy custard tartlets from the famous Pasteleria de Belem. I hopped the train to Chiado, the SoHo of Lisbon, a quick ten minutes away. Because it was Sunday, the streets were nearly empty, except for one packed with men, women, and children dressed in authentic-looking 19th century clothing. They were actors for a TV series, brave enough to sport woolen garb in the intense heat. It was somewhere in the high 30s Celcius, so after my lunch of octopus salad, I headed home for a siesta. These warm afternoons are the origins of the siesta, the break in the day when it is too hot to do anything but sleep.
On Sunday night, Joana and I went out for roasted sardines. June is supposedly the best time to eat sardines because they are the fattest during this month. We sat outside sipping white sangria and nibbling on bread and cheese when the pile of whole fish arrived, along with a salad with roasted peppers, and more bread. Joana told me the best way to eat them is on top of a slice of bread. After finishing 2 or 3, the bread has soaked up the oils and flavors of the fish becoming a savory treat in itself. We had five fish each- leaving us with very full bellies. I couldn’t skip dessert, though, so I tried a tiramisu-like layered cake. Biscuit cookies are soaked in coffee and layered with coffee mousse, then covered with caramel buttercream and sprinkled with pine nuts and brown sugar. It was rich and delicious, prompting an evening stroll before we headed home. Joana led me through the windy, narrow streets of the historic Alfama district of Lisbon. We stopped to see her favorite bar/restaurant, which doubles as a circus training school. The students work at the restaurant to help offset the tuition. The atmosphere felt more relaxed than silly, but I could have pictured a clown car packed with 12 people buzzing onto the dimly-lit patio.
The next day, I did more wandering through the city center. I told Joana I would bring home a dinner of Portuguese cheeses, good bread, and salad. She gave me the names of her favorite kinds, all of which were sheep’s milk varieties. She assured me El Corte Ingles, the largest department store chain in Spain with outlets in Portugal, would have them. The supermarket of the department store is on the lowest level and has the largest cheese selection I have ever seen in one place. Coming from Wisconsin, that is saying a lot. There must have been over 2000 cheeses from several countries, in addition to anything else you could hope for in a one-stop shop. My conversation in Spanglish with one of the helpful cheese mongers taught me a lot about which ones go together well. I brought back four of those she recommended, each with a distinct flavor and texture. Now, I realized after this lovely dinner that Portuguese cheeses are highly overlooked gourmet products. Small-scale production makes exporting many of these difficult, so Americans living 5000 miles away will have a hard time finding a Portuguese cheese plate on many menus. Also, many are highly perishable, and probably wouldn’t make it to North America retaining their high quality. This made me wonder what types of fancy French cheeses actually make the journey to the States. Only the mass-produced ones or varieties with serious lasting power will ever reach our plates. Nothing beats eating at the source.