Casa Nanda

More than forty years ago, on the corner of Porto’s Rua da Alegria, or “Street of Joy,” sat an old charcoal shop. In 1978, after many years working in a renowned local restaurant, Fernanda (Nanda) Sousa took over the shop with her husband and, together with another couple, they converted it into what’s locally known as a “pastoral house.” With barrels of wine scattered about and ham hocks hanging from the ceiling, it was the quality of the food, not the interior, that elevated Casa Nanda to restaurant status. Now, 40 years on and having stared Covid-19 down, Casa Nanda has reopened on Rua da Alegria after a months-long renovation.

A Regaleira

“Bom filho à casa torna,” we like to say in Portuguese, a maxim that translates to “a good son comes home.” Can the saying be applied to a sandwich? In Porto, we would argue, the answer is yes, especially now that A Regaleira, the birthplace of the francesinha – Porto’s signature dish – is open again after being closed for three years. Even former A Regaleira regulars passing by the reopened restaurant might miss the fact that it has moved a few doors down from its original location. We could have sworn that the restaurant was in the same spot since 1934, but the original A Regaleira was forced to close in 2018 when the building housing it was sold.

Guindalense FC

Those returning to Porto along the Luís I Bridge will notice a set of terraces to their right decorated with colored garlands, flags and string lights, as if someone forgot to take down their decorations after the June 23 São João festival, the city’s largest celebration. The garlands and flags stay up all year, though, and are the easiest way to find one of Porto’s most interesting hidden gems: the Guindalense Futebol Clube, home to some of the city’s best views. The story begins, at least officially, in 1976, when the club was founded as a place for amateur footballers and other athletes in the Guindais neighborhood.

Refúgio 112

Despite the fact that Porto has swelled with tourists in recent years, leading local establishments to evolve in order to cater to these visitors, there are thankfully many places that have swatted away all trends and remained faithful to their roots. In Miragaia, a typical Porto neighborhood that has resisted the pull of tourism, one can still find a place like this on each corner. A good example is Refúgio 112, which is located deep in the warren of narrow streets, where there are only houses and no awnings or anything notable to report. The restaurant is, as the name suggests, the refuge of Clarice Santos, or Clari for short. It opened eight years ago on the same day as the annual São João festival.

Caldo Verde

Caldo verde, Portugal’s most famous soup, doesn’t sound like much in English – “green broth” is the literal translation. I was thinking about this when reading an article on the 20 best soups in the world, which a friend sent to me, noting that caldo verde (a “homey soup” where “thinly sliced greens meld with potatoes and onions”) had made the cut. The article refers, in general, to the restorative power of soup, a belief that is held in very different cultures across the globe – which sounds about right to me. But then the author references a book that broadly defines soup as “just some stuff cooked in water, with the flavored water becoming a crucial part of the dish.” And I have to disagree there, because caldo verde is so much more than flavored water. How to explain that it is a feeling?

Port in the Storm

This is a day to do nothing. After a week of working from home, I’m facing another weekend of lockdown. Our restaurants are closed, and so are the bars – nowhere to get a drink. It’s raining outside, and I realize that I have chosen the wrong book to read: “The Winter of Our Discontent” by John Steinbeck makes the pandemic numbers even more difficult to bear. I open my computer and scan the news. Stopping to read an article about the selection of the year’s best Port wine, I remember that, yes, January 27 was declared International Port Day – a day for the world to celebrate this fortified vinho – a decade or so ago by the Center for Wine Origins, an organization in Washington D.C. At this point in time, I’ll take any reason to celebrate.

Restaurante Pombeiro

After the pandemic shook Porto’s restaurant sector like an earthquake, the city’s eateries are trying to rebuild themselves. Those who are still standing have opened their doors again and are now offering more than delivery and takeaway. In this city we live for contact with other people, talking face to face; nowadays that means imagining a genuine smile behind the mask. A well-known Portuguese expression may be one of the best descriptions for what restaurants are currently experiencing in the time of Covid: “Fazer das tripas coração” (“Making heart from the guts”). It means something like turning adversity into fuel, and in Portugal we use it to describe a superhuman effort. Because that’s what we’re all putting in currently, right?