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?!
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.
On Monday, April 19th, Porto and parts of Portugal will reopen. Albeit with limited capacity. This means that a person can go out to a restaurant and eat inside if they so desire. Whoo-hoo! We have missed dining out so. It has been a long haul since the country shut down back in January. So much has happened since the beginning of the pandemic, it is almost too much to consider. As stated in The Princess Bride, there is too much, let me sum up. At the start of the Covid crisis, Portugal did a stellar job of keeping the virus numbers down. And the public also kept it together very well. It was a stark contrast to the chaos in the states. We held it together quite well through the first few lockdowns.
Then, after Christmas, we had some of the highest virus numbers in Europe. The downside to how family-oriented the Portuguese are. After nearly a year of lockdown, folks traveled and got together during the holidays. It was game over for low virus numbers and hello new lockdown. Still, people heeded the warnings and hunkered down for the better part of the next three months. Here is the thing, it was not too bad. Again, a contrast to the continued pandemonium in the states. Besides the general peacefulness of Portugal, the food and wine saved the day. Portuguese food and wines are some of the best in the world. And when you can get pretty much anything you want delivered fresh to your door, there is no need to leave the house. One of the many things I love about living here is that COD still exists. (And not just the omnipresent fish.) One of the surprising things about finding food to order online is that there were many local, homemade food services to be found on Instagram, of all places. We have had some of the best food, ordered on IG or Whatsapp, and paid cash on delivery. No worries, no questions asked. This speaks volumes to me about trust here. Virtually everything ordered online in the USA must be paid for in advance. There is no trust for anyone, anywhere over there anymore. It is a sad commentary on American life. Well, because people in the US are A-holes in a lot of cases. And psycho nut-cases. Just look at the news.
Here are some of our favorites. Casa Guedes. Yup, the ubiquitous pernil pork sande. Still one of the best ever. Delivered with love notes. You gotta love it.
Feito Prati. (It means made for you.) A Brazilian woman who makes the most delicious bread and entrees. Delivered fresh and hot to your door. She has a weekly menu with different entrees every day. We have been ordering lunch and a giant loaf of stuffed bread every week for over a month now.
And Flagrante Delito. An outfit that does a special menu weekly to be delivered during the weekend. They make food from different nationalities every week. We have had Cypriot, Mexican, and Italian so far. All were outstanding. Each menu has an omnivore and a vegan option and includes a starter, entree, and dessert. And all of this for about 24 euros for two, delivered. 🙂 I sent pictures of the food to my Mom in California, and she said I wish we had something like that here.
The Easter dinner we got had from The Wine Box in Porto was outstanding. As was the wine we had with it. The Wine Box is a wonderful restaurant and wine bar near the Ponte Luis I. We had cabrito which is traditional for Easter in Portugal. Baby goat. Sorry, it was delicious.
After such a long time staying home, my reclusive tendencies have increased. If I continue to stay home and not interact with people, I could stay healthy for the rest of my life. So, now that the country is about to reopen, I am ready to be a complete shut-in. It is tempting.