With the pervasive summer heat, naked is the way to go. And in the obscure grape department, Vinão is the winner for this wine drinker. As much as I love a good white from Vinho Verde, especially the Alvarinhos, I still love a chillable red wine. Vinão is one of the few red grapes from the Vinho Verde region in northern Portugal. This grape is hard to find even in Portugal but is worth seeking out. The red wines from the north are fruit juicy, delicious, and eminently chillable.
The Naked Vinhão from AB Valley wines is a white wine made from red Vinhão grapes. This wine tastes like a red. It is a bit disconcerting when you first take a sip. Tasted double-blind, I bet most tasters would say that it is red wine. Nope, it is a white wine from red grapes. It is crisp and refreshing, fruity, and grapey in a good way. It has great acidity that makes one want to have more after each sip.
Naked Vinhão is the brainchild of António Sousa, the winemaker for AB Valley Wines. The single varietal whites from the area are outstanding. Try some Avesso, Arinto and Azal on for size. These are all delicious well-made wines from the region.
Que Se Foda. A wine whose time has come. It means what the f*%# in Portuguese. More of an art piece, really. Wine as art, if you will. Or art as wine. The perpetrator of this bit of fun is Francisco Eduardo. An artist based in Lisbon. Here is the message on the bottle: “The message behind the coarse expression used in this work of art is a message of hope and a synonym of faith. When we are in doubt, often our fears win over our dreams, and it is at that time that it is necessary to say, (WTF.) Que se foda?!”
WTF indeed! Side effects of the pandemic include political insanity and random increased violence, especially in the US and on airplanes, it seems. Wow. Just when we thought it could not get any worse in the weirdness department. And I love that this artist is selling his Que se Foda wines online with great success. The red sold out before we even knew about it. (Sounds like a great wine, I will have to seek it out from the winemaker.) I was lucky to score a bottle of the white Vinho Verde before it sold out. Hopefully, Mr. Eduardo will keep them coming.
The TTB (Alcohol and Tabacco Tax and Trade Bureau) would throw a fit if someone tried to sell wine with such profanity for a name on the label in the states. Puritanical mo-fos. I am pretty sure that the acronym would not be approved unless it stood for something else altogether. Much less spelling it out as it is on this fine Portuguese wine. And look at me, unwilling to even spell the word out myself. This from a lifetime of conditioning and fear of offending anyone. WTF?!
Happy Porto garbage trucks. That’s right, I said happy Porto garbage trucks. The color of the city of Porto is a bright navy blue. Which is appropriate given the proximity to the river and ocean. And even the garbage trucks are painted this color. They are shiny and new-looking and have digital signs on the back with public service announcements. Use máscara. Use a mask! Obrigado. Thank you. We have lived here for a while now, and we love the city and most everything about it. When I remember the nasty-looking garbage trucks in the US, and I see the trucks here in Porto, all I can think is, happy Porto garbage trucks! The atmosphere in Portugal is happier and more relaxed than in the states, by far. And as far as the superior quality of just about everything here, I think it is a case of smaller is better. I like to say that Portugal is a lot like California only, smaller and better. No offense Cali, but it is true! Bigger and bolder are not always better.
Sundays. Remember when Sunday was a day of rest? Probably not. That concept has somehow been lost in the US. It does not matter what day it is. It’s, go, go, go, all the time. Here in Europe, Sunday is still a day of rest. Shops are closed, and the streets are quiet. It is my favorite day to go out strolling. The Portuguese say, calma! Calm down, take it easy. America has forgotten what it means to take it easy. In so many ways.
And the flowers. There is a profusion of flowers everywhere. The trumpet flowers are enormous, and the perfume from them is intoxicating. And then there are the giant multi-colored hydrangeas. They are mind-blowing.
And, once more, I have to mention the food and drink. I wish I could convey how good it all is here. You have to taste it to believe it. Again, I think it is a case of a smaller place that has superior quality. We have never loved having salads as much as we have here. And the country is a wino’s dream. There are fabulous wines to be had for less than five euros. Portugal personifies the saying as an embarrassment of riches. We are so happy and fortunate to be here to enjoy them.
Above, mustard pork Niçoise salad with shrimp, greens and bechamel stuffed bread. And this was created with leftovers! Thanks to Feito Prati for the amazing pão trança, braided stuffed bread, and the mustard pork.
I read this one in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. Big mistake. It just got me all fired up about the egregious disparities between the US and the rest of the world. Again.
12 of the “best” rosés in this lineup are American. Of those 12, 11 are from California. Biased? I am thinking so. Then there is the subject of price. “…over half of the bottles here clock in at under $25…making them great case-buys.” Lol. Sounds expensive to me. Maybe that is because here in Portugal I can buy fabulous rosés for about $2-5 per bottle. If I want to seriously splurge, I can drop 24 euros on an outstanding single varietal Touriga Nacional rosé. I am sure it would compare favorably with the $40 Provence rosé they peg at number four on the list. In fact, I know that I would prefer the Portuguese rosé because I have had the Domaines Ott rosé. And while it is good, it is not worth $40 a bottle in my book. The Pacheca reserva rosé is more complex and satisfying in my estimation. And admittedly, in this case, I am biased.
So why are wines so much more expensive in the states? Well, because of the three-tier system, a throwback to prohibition, prices are disproportionately jacked up. There is talk of revamping this auto-overpricing system. But given America’s Puritanical, capitalistic roots, I would be surprised if that actually happens. (Just like the health insurance system, to name one of the many broken systems in the US. But I digress.) Reading the Vinepair article, I am reminded of how oblivious people in the US are. Hell, I was one of them until about five years ago. Back in the day, we all thought that America was the greatest country in the world. And maybe back then, it was. Sadly, not anymore. When I mention how scary and dangerous it is over there, my friends say it is not that bad. Really? When a person can be shot and killed going to the grocery store on any given day, I have to say, yes, it is. The shooting du jour has become shootings du jour. And that is the tip of the iceberg, I am afraid. But again, I digress.
To further illustrate my point, here is an article about affordable rosés that appeared in the Irish Sun. https://www.thesun.ie/fabulous/6994586/10-presentable-bottles-rose-enjoy-ireland/ It is titled, On the Grapevine. 10 of the best perfectly presentable and very affordable bottles of Rosé wine for you to enjoy. They run from about 6.50 to 25 euros, with one from Italy for 40 euros. And, I should point out that the 40 euro number is different because of the winemaking process and is aged for a year. That might justify the higher price. (Not just another overpriced French rosé.) Now, Ireland is an island and, these wines all have to be shipped over. So the fact that they are so much cheaper than their American cousins, for the most part, underscores my point. Most of them are 7-12 euros. This sounds like a much better case-buy to me.
The Palmelão pictured below is a great every day rosé for about $2. I am sure that it would compare favorably to most of the $15 rosés that are available in the US. And it is not Franzia-like leftovers. It is a well crafted three-varietal rosé. For about two dollars a bottle. (Eat your heart out two buck Chuck!)
Having spent years in the booze biz in the states, I have tasted a lot of wines. And while I can appreciate a good Provence rosé, now that I have had some of the Portuguese rosés for a fraction of the price, I can never go back. Never mind the wildly overpriced California offerings. (Sorry, Ca. And, I am from the Golden state.) Why would I want to? And, I guess if you live in the United States, it helps to be oblivious to these kinds of disparities.
So close and yet so far. That is how it feels living in a foreign country during a pandemic. One could say that is how it feels living in a foreign country in general. We are close to others physically but, the language acts as a barrier that keeps us from connecting. And with lockdown and social distancing and masks, even more so. Having been stuck at home for the past three months, we have got to know our neighbors through observation. Since we live over a café, there is plenty to observe. It is sort of a neighborhood hangout. The guys stand around and chat off and on at all hours of the day.
Here’s what we have perceived about them. Our neighbors upstairs are very sweet octagenarians. They are friendly and thankful to have us. Apparently, the previous tenants were not so desirable and routinely trashed the place. Isabel always says, if we need anything, just let them know. I just wish I could understand her better. I figure I get about half of what she is saying when we interact. Their daughter is friendly as well. Happily, she speaks English, which helps. They warmly welcomed us to the neighborhood, which was great.
The dudes in the hood, however, were another matter. They have been very wary of us. Finally, after six months, they will say good morning or afternoon when we see them. One of them has two dogs, and he has become friendly. His dogs and our dog have become buds. We have even chatted once or twice, with my limited Portuguese. He seems nice enough but somewhat downtrodden. He wears a sweatshirt sometimes that says NOTHING. This, to me, speaks volumes. He appears to be kind of sad at times and sometimes looks positively beat up.
Then there is the talker. He has a distinctive voice that carries. I get the feeling that he does not like us. Or maybe he just doesn’t like foreigners. He doesn’t seem as threatened by us now as when we first moved in. Just a feeling I get. Xenophobia is everywhere. The funny thing is one evening, I overheard him saying what I construed as something derogatory about the English and Americans. Full disclosure, English and Americans were the only two words that I understood of his would-be diatribe. Then, in a moment of the universe laughing in my face, I saw him wearing a sweatshirt that said USA on it the next day!
For comic relief, we have the Oxford yodler and Alice Kravatz across the street. The O.Y. seems like a lost soul. He has severe psoriasis and wanders around, looking bereft a lot of the time. He wears an Oxford University sweatshirt most of the time. He likes to sing and yodels occasionally in the street. He actually has a pleasant singing voice. The yodeling is a bit odd but always makes me laugh.
And then there is Alice. I call her Alice Kravatz as in the character of the same name on the old Bewitched sitcom. The nosey neighbor. She was always looking out the window and getting into the business of others. This Alice likes to look out the window of her front door. Or she stands just outside of the front door in her slippers. A blanket draped over her shoulders while watching what is going on in the street. Occasionally, she will sport a red hat reminiscent of those worn by the band Devo. Her ensembles are noteworthy. In a, I’m an old lady, and I don’t give a shit kind of way. She is the neighborhood watch.
I wonder if we would have noticed our new neighbors as much if it wasn’t for the pandemic. Because we certainly would be out and about much more. Since we are always home, and our place is like a fishbowl, watching the goings-on in the street has become a form of entertainment. I guess we all have some Alice Kravatz in us in the end.
We are heading into week number 4 of lockdown here in Portugal and, I have to say that it hasn’t been too bad. The lines to get into the stores have been minimal. There has not been a shortage of much of anything so far. I am happy to report that there is plenty of TP, food, and drink. It is a far cry from the pandemonium we are hearing coming from our friends in Italy, Spain, and the US. We wish you all well. So sorry that you are the victims of so much trumpery. (Yup, it’s a word. Go ahead, look it up.)
Kudos to the Portuguese government for handling the crisis so well thus far. Thanks to the quick official response, and cooperation of the people, it looks like the virus will be contained here sooner rather than later. We hope so. In any case, it is being taken a lot more seriously than in a lot of countries.
There have even been some perks. One of our favorite wineries, Quinta da Pacheca, has been offering 20% off their wines with free delivery on a case or more. We now have plenty of wine. More and more restaurants are offering take-out and delivery. That includes our favorite pizza place, Rei da Gula, here in Gaia. So, theoretically, we wouldn’t have to leave the house at all except to walk the dog. The mandate is to, “Fique em casa.” Stay home, which we are doing. We hope that you are too. Lay low and know that better times are coming. Stay strong and stay well, everyone.
I think we would all agree that moving is hell. Even with movers, you must go through all your things and decide what to ditch and what to keep. This move happened on short notice, and we didn’t have a lot of time to get it together. You never realize how much crap you have until you go to move it all.
We were fortunate that we found takers for all the over-sized things that were a tough sell, some at the last minute. Large architectural flat files and a seven-foot-tall harp case were two of them. (Mr. Roberts, harp purchaser, and Craig’s List to the rescue!) There is a big Good Will store in Stapleton, and I must have made 25-30 trips over there with carloads of stuff. Still, there was too much to do, and we weren’t ready when the movers came. The goal was to rid ourselves of 80 percent of our belongings. I think we might have hit about 60 percent. Oh, and the apartment to which we moved is up three flights of stairs. And it was about 95 degrees that entire week. Ugh.
We had a new understanding of the word exhaustion by the end of it. My calves were screaming for mercy from lugging boxes up the stairs. The closing went well, but we signed the place over at 10am and still had things in the house to move! Ack! By law, in Colorado, the buyers take possession when the sellers sign it over. The fact that we weren’t out by the time we signed was unacceptable. The buyers were understandably annoyed, but what could we do? At that point: apologize profusely and get ‘er done! We both had to work that day as well. The timing was abysmal. So, at 8:30pm, we went back over to finish up. After a few more trips back and forth, we were finally out by 10pm. We left the new owners a bottle of bubbly and some restaurant coupons and hoped they would be ok with it. Happily, they were.
Our goal is to leave for Portugal by September. We now have about two months to relieve ourselves of a lot more stuff and ship over the rest. Holy mother of F: why do we need so much stuff?! We don’t, that’s the thing. The purge continues, but now we have a new neighborhood and time to breathe, at least.
The next step will be to go over and find a place to live. The plan is to do so at the end of August and then apply for our visa. That’s the catch 22: can’t apply for a visa without an address, can’t really get an address without going over. Why can’t anything be simple?! Those online con artists have ruined it for the rest of us! Apparently, there are plenty of Eastern Euro scumbags taking your money for an apartment and running with it, so internet renters beware!
Now it’s near 100 degrees in Denver for the next three months, and where can I go RIGHT NOW to escape this heat? This is why I wanted to be gone by June. The sweltering continues! I must remember that it could be worse. We could be in L.A. (120 degrees last week), Arid-zona, Palm Springs, or Las Vegas. All versions of Hell on earth right now. Which level would you like?!
In the meantime, cool off with a cocktail! Or three…
Being older helped us out with the timing of everything we did on this trip. While the rest of the Portuguese world has lunch around 1pm or later, we were usually hungry by noon. The same went for dinner. We usually wanted to eat around 6pm and were the only ones in the dining room at that time. Restaurants got busy after 7pm, which suited us just fine.
We re-visited the Pasteis de Belem at about 11am in the morning and, guess what? There was no line! The place is also much bigger than it looks from the outside and seats around 400. We ordered coffee and two pasteis de nata, as they are known. This is the Café du Monde of Lisbon. They serve delicious little custard tarts in a parchment-like pastry shell. Not as good as beignets, but still, quite tasty.
After our “breakfast” of custard tarts and coffee, we decided to check out the Coach Museum. Now, Joe thought, really? A coach museum, how interesting could it be? Boy, was he surprised! As was I. These were historic coaches built for royalty, and they were amazing, to say the least. Having been a carriage driver in Denver for many years, I could really appreciate these mobile works of art. They made our carriages look mighty pedestrian, I’ll say! Well, look!
After being wowed by the antique coaches for royalty, we found O Prado for lunch. This little gem of a restaurant is on Rua da Junqueira, 474, 1300-341, Lisboa, and if you are ever in Lisboa (Lisbon, to us foreigners!) you need to dine there. We sat at the bar and were entertained by the Johnny and Christina show! These two run the place, and they are awesome, as is the food. I had a salmon steak that was crazy good, super fresh, and cooked to perfection, that is not overdone, and Joe had a pork dish that melted in the mouth. We shared a bottle of the house red wine that was a red Vinho Verde. Why, oh why, do we not get this wine over here?! Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not against the white Vinho Verdes, but the red is so perfect with everything! Beautiful dark red color, a hint of effervescence, light- bodied with dark fruit flavors, and nice and dry on the finish. Yumilicious, it was. It reminded me of the dry Lambrusco from Emilia-Romagna in Italy. I wish I could have brought some home. One of the many reasons we’ll just have to move there! Seriously, I have traveled a lot, but never have I visited a country where all the food and drink is so consistently good, if not great.
Given the great fun, food, and drink, we became instant friends with Christina and Johnny and said we’d be back before we left Lisbon.