Because that’s all the time I had...just enough time to hug my good friend and recent transplant, eat my bodyweight in good food and climb more hills than I’d care to admit. Everyone’s moving to Lisbon, and after this trip, I see why.
Swiftly picking me from the airport we we started at Uaipi, a Brazilian cafe, for and queijo coalho (grilled cheese cubes) the perfect pairing (and stomach lining!) for a glass of Amarguinha, a bitter almond liqueur with lemon juice and plenty of ice. A drink that’s basically liquid sunshine with an attitude.
Bags dropped, spirits high, we wandered.
Lisbon’s streets are made for wandering...narrow, incredibly hilly and tiled façades that look like someone’s grandmother’s kitchen backsplash (in the best way). Every corner offers a new view.
And so we walked. And walked. And sweated. Lisbon’s hills are relentless, but the views are worth every glute contraction.
Dinner was at Familjen, where we arrived slightly breathless and were still welcomed like old friends. It’s the kind of restaurant that manages to feel casual but with elevated fayre at the same time, all low light, good music and a view straight into the kitchen.
We went for their No FOMO – Try It All menu, which did exactly what it promised. The oysters came with sea buckthorn, the kimchi waffles were comfort food you couldn't have dreamed up and the beef tartare with roti was outstanding (You can read more about that dinner in my latest Substack, it deserves its own story.)
The next day we kept it classic with lunch at Solar dos Presuntos, a Lisbon institution. We ordered Bacalhau à Gomes de Sá, layers of salt cod, potatoes, onions, olives and hard-boiled eggs - comforting and filling enough to send me into a delightful nap on the flight back home.
And then, too soon, it was back to the airport.
No pastel de nata were harmed or consumed during this trip. Do with that information what you will. (Yes, I can hear your gasps from here.)
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