Over four weeks, despite having a kitchen, we ate at a lot of restaurants in Lisbon. Most of which were good. I am only going to talk about those that, for one reason or another, left an impression.
The thing about kid friendly in Lisbon is that though kids are welcome and indulged everywhere it’s not very kid focused. Kids are part of the family and are expected to do what the family does. This is especially true when it comes to restaurants. Kid menus are not uncommon, but don’t expect them everywhere. And most places only nod to kids is having a high chair available. Also, the Portuguese tend to eat late- not Spanish, Argentinian, or Greek late. But late.
Our first accommodation was near the Mercado de Campo de Ourique. To my great disappointment we never made it there. Fortunately, the apartment we ended up in was just down the street from Churrasqueira da Paz .
This is one one of those places that is so good that you are left in a conundrum: to tell everyone or tell no one. Keep the place a secret and hope that it continues to provide amazing food and great service at reasonable prices. Or tell everyone to assure its success (and therefore, hopefully, guarantee its survival).
The only reason I am going the second route is because, based on the groups of foreigners lining up at the place most nights, the cat is thoroughly out of the bag. We ate here several times, probably devouring the whole menu by the end, and at no time were we disappointed. Instead we were continually impressed and (overly) satiated. Not a great place for vegetarians, though.
Thanks to the conveniently placed playground we did end up at the Time Out Market (Mercado da Ribeira). Several times. But we only ate there twice. It is often listed as great place to take littles. Well, there are certainly a lot of choices…
The first time we went back to TOM on this second Lisbon visit was so meh that the only reason we went back again was to introduce the place to our friend D. We should have gone to the Mercado de Campo de Ourique, instead. Both times at TOM the food was underwhelming and the crowd oppressive. The meal that left the strongest impression did so in the negative.
When we went to show D the place, among other things we had one of Portugal’s very traditional dishes. Bacolao, or codfish, on a bed of maize. Here maize was a polenta like substance. I love fish. But I fucking adore grits and polenta is European grits. More, LB fucking adores grits and polenta. I can always count on her finishing at least two bowls when I make it. This stuff, however, tasted like nothing. The fish, though flaky and moist, had barely any flavor. And the maize was what I imagine the gruel served to prisoners in previous centuries tasted like. Even between the four of us we didn’t finish it.
On the plus side the croquette shop still had the tasty fried balls we liked. Though they are at least double the price you would find in a local place they also offered flavor combinations I didn’t see anywhere else. And they are highly portable so easily transported to the playground next door.
Near one of the many other playgrounds we scouted for LB we uncovered a great Google find. The playground was a nice size with the usual gear. Quite busy in the afternoons and on weekends. There was a small cafe nearby, though not close enough to keep an eye on the playground. The coolest feature of the park in which the playground was situated was the tree trellis on the other side. A tree, that had to be at least a century old if it was a day, spread out over a frame set above several benches surrounding the trunk. The tree’s thick, vinelike branches weighed on the frame forming a dense canaopy which must be absolute heaven during the hotter months.
After an hour or two at the playground capping off a full day of sightseeing we were ravenous. Google maps pointed us the way and did not let us down. Again not great for vegetarians, Frangasqueira Nacional is wonderful for us omnivores. It’s ostensibly a chicken place though pig was also heavily featured on the menu. Even LB ate her fill! And not just French fries. We had the mixed grill which consisted of chicken, sausage, and ribs with fries and garlic rice as sides. I know, two starches. In our defense there were not a lot of side choices.
Probably because most people just fill up on the delicious animal flesh. And it is so very delicious. The ribs were tender, the chicken juicy, the sausage flavorful, and it was all accompanied by a (somewhat) spicy chilli oil. It was so good we ordered more as take out for the next day’s lunch. This place, too, seems to already be on the foodie radar based on the clientele we encountered.
At the LxFactory we had Brazilian influenced blah from wherever. Not even going to bother looking the place up it left that little of an impression. But on the way out we ran into Garage BBQ. The American owners may not originally be from Texas but they spent a couple of decades there and it shows in the food. And the beer. And the cocktails. We split the pulled pork sandwich. The thing about pulled pork, or pulled anything, is it’s easy to cook something to death and cover it in sauce. What’s hard is getting to that ‘o’ place where the fats, the gelatine, and the juiciness of the meat coalesce in your mouth making the sauce a touch of perfume on the naked body instead of the drape hiding imperfections. This was not the best bbq I have ever had. I, too, lived in Texas. But it may be the best Texas style bbq in Portugal.
We went to El Corte Inglés because we mistakenly believed that this was the mall with the drop off kid zone. We were wrong. They don’t have a kid zone of any kind. But we were there. And we were hungry.
I like spaghetti carbonara. The traditional version*. It’s a simple dish, but like a lot of simple dishes, easy to fuck up. Between the egg yolk and the pancetta it’s also a bit of an indulgence. The last few months I have been less imaginative in the kitchen what with buying things that need to be used within a month and won’t spoil in the duration. When I saw on the menu that they had Carbonara with egg I was pleased. Until I got the dish.
It had cream. Traditional carbonara does not have cream. There is nothing wrong with adding cream but it was not what I expected. Weirdly placed in the nested pasta bathed in cream was the ‘low temperature” egg yolk from the menu. It was alright.
However, not nearly good enough to justify the imdulgence. Even weirder they refused to give our kid sauce free noodles. Just said no, couldn’t be done. I mean, do all the plates come with sauce attached? Seriously, wtf is that about? They compromised by putting the sauce on the bottom of the dish. Yeah, yeah, it’s very American to expect to be accommodated in a restaurant but this is the only place during a multi-month, multi-continental trip that refused to alter a dish for the child- one from the kiddie menu! Pretty sure they make the pasta. D’s dish was quite good.
The most kid friendly place we found, Doca de Santo, had its own playground. Or, I should say playgrounds as there is a fenced in outdoor space with the usual playground equipment and an indoor space filled with toys. As they do not market themselves as family friendly, instead going with a sort of upmarket theme based on the tasty menu and excellent location on the river, we probably never would have found the place if my husband hadn’t discovered it on one of his runs.
The last place that made an impression was Pastelaria Hatari. The apartment we rented turned out to be in a much better (read: trendy and touristy) area than we anticipated based on the maps we perused online. Meaning even the local joints tended to be priced for the tourist trade. Especially those on the main streets. But at Pastelaria Hatari I was able to have a tasty 7€ salmon dinner that I could easily have split with a companion.
3 Amigos gets an honorable mention not for its mediocre AmeriMexican food but for the excellent playlist blasting from the top floor apartment across the street. The whole time we were at the joint we were serenaded by forgotten hits of the late 80s and early 90s. It was like a DJ was auditioning for the mixer held before our twenty year class reunion.
There were a few places in Casçais that I will mention in the daytrip post. Otherwise that’s it for restaurants. On to the sites and the awkward Portuguese handling of their colonial past.