Wilson and his wife have been exploring Lisbon for years in search of the perfect small restaurant. . .  and they finally found it. At least until the next visit.

EARLY BIRDS
My wife and I recently visited Pap Açorda, a restaurant in Lisbon’s hip Bairro Alto neighborhood that basically invented Nouveau Portuguese cuisine. Though the restaurant had yet to open for the evening, owner Jose Miranda met us in the empty dining room for a tutorial on the restaurant’s namesake dish açorda, the delicious thick porridge made with bread, garlic, coriander, olive oil, salt, eggs and seafood (usually shrimp or salted cod). “Portuguese cuisine is the most Mediterranean of all the Mediterranean cuisines,” Miranda said. “The traditional Portuguese family is poor, and ours is a poor but honest cuisine.”

While we talked, a family of four rosy-cheeked blonds wandered in the door. Jose Miranda ignored them for several minutes, until the father finally said (in English, obviously annoyed), “Excuse me. We have a reservation for eight o’clock. Can we be seated?”

Miranda sighed heavily. “What time is it?”

“It’s 7:20,” said the father.

“Well,” Miranda said, “I guess it’s not yet eight o’clock then.”

The family retreated in a huff and Miranda snorted, “Tourists! What do they think I am running here? I say eight o’clock, and that’s what time I open. This is Lisbon. This is not . . . America.”

While some might consider Miranda discourteous, this Old World stubbornness is what I love best about Lisbon.

NOTHING FANCY
In Lisbon, you know that lunch will last two hours, and you may as well stretch it out with a bottle of red wine and a sweet custard dessert. That’s what everyone else is doing before they return to work. Besides, the shops are closed till late afternoon anyway. My wife and I love long lunches at Lisbon’s hole-in-the-wall spots. Some of these have no more than six or eight tables, and your waiter is often the owner. The fare is generally some variation on the traditional Portuguese menu of fresh fish and meats. In summer, there are grilled sardines and my favorite, porco a Alentejana, pork and clams in garlic-coriander broth. Lisbon has hundreds of small restaurants like this, and I’m always on the lookout for the absolute best example. I thought I’d found it when I discovered Casa Eurico Ferreria near the castle. 

But on our last trip we found a new favorite: Stop do Bairro (“the neighborhood stop”), in an untouristy area near the Campo de Ourique Market. When we walked in at lunchtime on a busy Saturday, the owner smiled warmly and waved us over to a long table, beneath soccer memorabilia hanging on the wall. We sat down next to a couple and their college-age daughter, and in no time we were fast friends. They recommended the grilled dourado and a few local wines; the porco a Alentejana was the best I’ve ever eaten. Before we left, the owner broke out a quince brandy that he’d made and aged himself.

CHERRY BREAK
Ginginha, a strong, sweet cherry brandy, is one of the fluids fueling Lisbon’s labor force. All day long, groups of young and old congregate outside the ginginha bars, sipping from small glasses. When I’m in Lisbon, I often make a late-afternoon stop at a ginginha bar around the Largo de São Domingos across from the National Theater (near the main square, Rossio). The bar itself only seats four people, so after the barman pours your drink (price: one euro), you join the throng of locals in the cobblestoned square. I’ve met older ladies dropping by after a day of shopping, immigrants from Brazil and Mozambique, and local college students who offer tips on which bars and cafés to try at night.

STAFF OF LIFE
If bread is a religion in Lisbon, then Pastelaria-Padaria São Roque is its church (57 Rua Dom Pedro V). In fact, the bakery calls itself Catédral do Pão (“cathedral of bread”), and it may well be the best in a city full of great bakeries. Ornate pillars and vivid azulejo tiles contribute to the cathedral look. I like to pick up a loaf and slather on some creamy queijo fresco. And while it may seem odd to choose a hotel because of bread, I’ve actually done that in Lisbon. This art deco bakery sits on the street level of the Pensão Londres, turning an already good budget hotel into an even more appealing place to stay.

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