It’s an early example of guilt tripping. The story goes that a monk arrived in a Portuguese village, hungry and clever. He grabbed a rock and carried it door to door, claiming that it was his only ingredient, asking people if they would be kind enough to supplement it so he could make a meal. Tugging on heartstrings in this manner, he was able to accumulate a pot, a potato, some beans, a bit of sausage and some salt-preserved pork and seasonings – a hodgepodge of ingredients that, along with that crucial stone, he united as soup. Thus, goes the story, sopa de pedra, “stone soup,” was born. Hélia Costa, a restaurateur in Almeirim, an hour north of Lisbon, tells a much more practical origin story for the dish’s unique name.

“It’s the king of Portuguese gastronomy,” declares Miguel Oliveira. He’s describing pudim Abade de Priscos, one of Portugal’s most infamous desserts, and the dish that is the specialty of his Lisbon sweets shop. Allegedly invented by the eponymous abbot in the 19th century (pudim is a term that refers to a variety of steamed desserts in Portugal), the dish unites a staggering 15 egg yolks, sugar, pork fat, port wine and aromatics in the form of a gleaming, golden ring. It’s easily the most over-the-top dessert in a country of already over-the-top desserts, and is the dish that has captivated Miguel more than any other.

This year, our Lisbon team was busy exploring place both near and far. Correspondent Austin Bush, who moved to the city almost two years ago, has been able to go deeper – and farther – in his pursuit of food as his Portuguese improves. As a result, the dishes, ingredients and drinks that most excited him this year included those outside of Lisbon, or were things that he wasn't previously aware of, or that took a bit more work to find, and as a result, they were that much more rewarding. Lisbon bureau chief and lead guide Célia Pedroso, meanwhile, managed to explore the world without leaving the Portuguese capital, savoring flavors from Angola and Goa, while also returning to some local classic Portuguese spots that, year after year, continue to provide her with unforgettable culinary memories.

Your friends or family are visiting Lisbon for the first time. Where do you take them to eat? If you’re us, it’s a no-brainer: Pica-Pau. Open for less than a year now, the restaurant, for us at least, has become a go-to introduction to the dishes, ingredients and flavors of Portugal. Or, more accurately, the dishes, ingredients and flavors of Lisbon. “Lisbon is a culinary region, just like Trás-os-Montes or Alentejo,” says Luís Gaspar, referring to Portugal’s far north and south, both regions with distinct, recognizable culinary legacies. He’s the chef behind Pica-Pau, and collaborated with the restaurant group Plateform to create a venue that centers around the sometimes-neglected cuisine of Lisbon.

If there’s one Portuguese ingredient familiar to all, it’s probably salt cod. And if there’s one Portuguese salt cod dish that’s best known, it’s likely bacalhau à Brás. Why has this particular dish – salt cod scrambled with eggs, onions and matchstick potatoes – risen to the top? “It’s the most democratic,” theorizes chef Luís Gaspar. “It has eggs, potatoes – things everyone likes.”

It’s been a long journey – literally – for pastry chef Juliana Penteado, culminating in her small-but-beautiful bakery in Lisbon’s São Bento neighborhood, and another shop soon to come. The Brazilian chef first enrolled in a cooking school in São Paulo at age 12 where, she would spend six years studying. As a young girl, she went back and forth between cooking and baking, but the latter would eventually win. “I also like cooking but baking has a more delicate and feminine side which make my eyes sparkle,” she tells us. It’s that inspiration which shines through in the elegant, lovingly made pastries that have become her calling card.

Lisbon, it could be said, is a tough city for fresh markets. The Greater Lisbon area is home to 28 market spaces, yet only ten of these currently witness any significant commercial activity. And among these ten, many have seen immense changes, with Mercado da Ribeira, Mercado Campo de Ourique and Mercado de Algés essentially operating more as food courts rather than fresh markets. Mercado 31 de Janeiro, in Lisbon’s Saldanha neighborhood, has also seen its share of changes in its near century of existence that spans various incarnations. But it stubbornly remains a relevant marketplace for Lisbon shoppers.

As the highway speeds out of Lisbon northward, the pastel apartment blocks of greater Lisbon’s northern sprawl give way to plots of farmland. It’s a road with no distinction, one not unlike countless others leaving cities elsewhere. Around 80 kilometers from Lisbon, the highway passes into the region of Oeste; although not readily apparent, Oeste is a place of great distinction. That becomes clearer a bit farther down the road, where on the side of a warehouse the words “Rocha Mundial” are printed beside the giant likeness of the region’s claim to fame, a green pear with light brown spots.

You don’t have to look far to find a glass of wine in Lisbon. But a unique glass of wine – perhaps something made by a small producer, or a bottle from an obscure region – in a comfortable or perhaps even trendy atmosphere, poured by someone who can explain what you’re drinking? That’s where it gets tough. But Lisbon can deliver. In recent years, the city has seen an explosion of wine bars. If we broaden the term, these could include restaurants with forward-thinking wine lists such as Insaciável, Senhor Uva, Tati and Sem. But we wanted to focus on venues that, in our opinion at least, prioritize bottles and glasses over plates.

As we shoot dishes in Criolense Kitchen Club, drawing attention as photography often does, we get the distinct impression that locals passing by are noticing the space for the first time. It’s possible they hadn’t noticed this bar/restaurant in Lisbon’s Graça neighborhood because, well, it has no sign. Criolense Kitchen Club shares space with art gallery Hangar, which both outside and in boasts the kind of muted, ship-gray tones and industrial elements one might associate with an edgy art space or perhaps even a workshop. There’s the approximate infrastructure of a restaurant, but the vibe feels more like a private party. It’s the kind of place that inspires the thought, “What, exactly, is going on in there?”

Head due north from Portugal, and you’ll encounter Asturias, a region of Spain with a deep tradition of producing and drinking cider. Shift just east from there, and Spain’s Basque country has its own unique apple-based drink, known as sagardoa. And of course, France’s Atlantic coast has a longstanding, sophisticated tradition of turning apples and pears into alcohol. Back in Portugal, craft cider is, well, a lot harder to find. In recent years, commercial brands such as Bandida do Pomar – part of the company that produces Sagres beer and other products – have become common, but the drink is almost a novelty.

In a city where new restaurants and cafés – many directed at Lisbon’s new residents and digital nomads – pop up faster than we can keep track of, Gunpowder has set its sights on conquering the tastebuds of locals though Indian seafood dishes and spices. Harneet Baweja, originally from Calcutta, founded the original Gunpowder restaurant in London in 2015. A love for surfing drew him to the Portuguese capital, and he started making frequent trips to Lisbon and its surrounding beaches. “I absolutely love Lisbon, so it was a natural choice for me to open a restaurant here,” he says. “I fell in love with the city and the culture.” It was a love so strong that Baweja now divides his time between Lisbon and London, managing the several Gunpowder locations, while still chasing the waves of the Portuguese coast.

We’re in a small café in Lisbon’s Madragoa neighborhood, and all of the disparate dishes loading down the table in front of us – small bread-like balls, a dish that resembles a small crepe, granola studded with flakes of grains, a pudding-like dessert – have one ingredient in common: cassava. “Cassava is known as the Queen of Brazil,” says Laila Ferreira Soares. “Everyone eats it, it’s always present.” Laila, a native of Brazil, along with her partner, Gregory Busson, a Frenchman, are the pair behind Uaipi, a new café/market in Lisbon with a focus on this particular ingredient.

We are in Lota da Esquina, in Cascais, staring down a small bowl filled to the brim with a mix of crab meat, chopped eggs, mayonnaise and other seasonings. On the surface, it looks like a straightforwardly decadent dish but according to chef/owner Vítor Sobral, it’s actually a way to boost a product that’s not quite at its peak.

One of the joys of Lisbon’s food scene is the access it allows to cuisines from across the Lusophone world. And one of the most represented is the food of Cabo Verde (formerly known as Cape Verde), an archipelago of 10 islands off the western coast of Africa. Its ubiquity is due to immigrants from the islands, but also perhaps because it has so many links with the cuisine of Portugal. “Our ingredients [in Cabo Verde] are almost completely European,” explains Maria Andrade, better known as Milocas, the chef/owner behind By Milocas, a Cabo Verdean restaurant in Lisbon. “Our food has so much to do with Portugal. The way we prepare fish, octopus and seafood is similar to how they’re prepared in Portugal.”