It was past two o’clock in the afternoon when we arrived in Alcobaça, a city in central Portugal that sprouted along the banks of the Alcoa and Baca Rivers, from which it derives its name. We were there to visit its famous church and monastery. By that time, all of us were famished and could think of nothing but food.
Our Tour Director walked with us to the square facing the monastery. The short trek from the parking lot took us through winding cobbled alleys, where we were greeted by houses whose façades were encrusted with tiles in geometric patterns, and by old bridges, abandoned fountains, and a pedestrian path by the Baça River. Some buildings appeared dilapidated, but their bright colours made them seem alive amidst this sleepy little town. The main square itself was almost empty, but we were told it was once vibrant with cars and strollers passing by.
Perhaps it was the time of our arrival that made it seem that way. It was too late for lunch and too early for an afternoon excursion. Our Tour Director told us we could have lunch at one of the many restaurants around the area and then meet him back near the monastery stairs after an hour and half. Before he left, he suggested we try the town’s specialty – the Frango na Púcara , a delicious chicken dish in a pot that almost every restaurant around there feature on their menu.
As we were huddled together in the centre of the open square, it was pretty obvious we were tourists that recently disembarked from the bus. A particularly vigilant restaurant host/manager, who happened to be standing outside the tavern directly across from the church, practically ran toward us. I guess he had been on the lookout for folks like us, for he came prepared, with menu cards on one hand, and discount coupons on the other.
He enthusiastically welcomed us and announced that if we were looking for a place to eat, his restaurant was just the right place. He proceeded to enumerate the day’s specials as he handed each of us the menu and the coupons and deftly led us to the covered patio fronting his establishment. It was a smart move since it was indeed easier to maneuver our group to take our seats outside than direct us to the narrow doorway of his tavern.
But this guy was not so smooth. If anything, he was a little too loud, too pushy, and too high-strung. I guess our hunger prevented most of us to think, since he managed to seat all of us like obedient school children on a field trip. And in a matter of seconds, he was already taking orders while barking instructions to his assistants to start serving bread and water.
My three solo-travelling amigas and I were the last ones to take a table, and as we were waiting for our orders to be taken, we came to our senses. One of us expressed exasperation at the guy’s almost-theatrical customer service performance. How could we possibly eat in peace with him hovering around the tables and buzzing like a bee! We decided to look for another place. As we stood up, Mr. Loud Guy rushed to us and asked why we were leaving. We told him we wanted to go shopping instead.
We found an unassuming place two blocks up the hillside called Restaurante Garrafeira. It was empty but open, and the menu posted on their billboard advertised a lunch special for ten euros consisting of bread, appetizer, main dish, a glass of wine, and coffee or tea. Inside, it was quite charming in a rustic kind of way. There were about twelve tables laid out around a counter with displays of bread, pastries, and deli meat, and which also doubled as a bar. The four-seater tables were covered with lime green and white plaid tablecloth and emerald green placemats for each seat. From the ceiling and on the windows hung woven baskets of all shapes and sizes. On the walls were framed coloured sketches of the Alcobaça neighborhood. In an adjacent section were a small wine shop and a grocery store selling local products.
The counter was tended by a petite woman that cheerfully assigned us a table by the window and calmly took our orders. This was significantly different from the scene we just left outside…so much better! We could tell we would be having a great meal in peace. Three of us ordered the Frango na Púcara dish and one opted for grilled squid. We were promptly served oven-warm bread with the accompanying olive oil and balsamic vinegar dip, a plate of assorted cheeses, a bowl of pickled olives, and bottled water. The main dishes came shortly. The frango did not disappoint, from the presentation to its taste.
Frango is chicken in Portuguese and the púcara is a tall clay pot with a lid where the chicken is cooked in a blend of Portuguese alcohol (Vinho Verde, port, and Aguardente brandy) and tomatoes, garlic, bay leaves, parsley, mustard, and strips of prosciutto. This recipe was said to have been invented by the monks at the monastery. But another version says that a local chef concocted this recipe to make chicken taste like the old regional partridge dish when partridges became scarce in the late 19th century.
The dish, served with roasted potatoes and carrots, was heavenly! My travel companion who ordered the grilled squid declared it was cooked to perfection as well. We enjoyed our meals with a glass of local red wine, chosen by our server. She told us that Alcobaça is one of the popular wine producers in the region and they grow both red and white varieties. In fact, located in this very town is the National Museum of Wine. The coffee we had at the end of the meal was also superb. Our server told us she buys only the best Portuguese brands.
We had a little time to browse the shops before our appointment with our Tour Director. We checked out several souvenir stores that sell porcelain and pottery, which the town is famous for, but since I was not planning to shop during this tour, I just got handmade porcelain magnets (miniature bowls) to add to our collection at home.
For those who are into hand-painted ceramics, it is worth visiting Alcobaça. This art has been practiced in this region since the Neolithic period and today, the town still boasts of talented artisan families whose craft has been passed on from generation to generation. The pieces are characterized by their blue paint and drawings of flowers, landscapes, or sayings. The older pieces from the 18th century has the word, "Alcobaça" inscribed in the middle, but the much later ones do not feature it anymore.
When we reunited with our tour mates at the front of the monastery, we heard several versions of their lunch horror story – how they waited for over thirty minutes for the food to arrive, how the orders were all mixed up, and how they paid almost twice the “special” amount originally quoted by Mr. Loud Guy because he charged them for the bread, the appetizers, and drinks, as these were supposedly “extras.” My amigas and I silently vowed that for the succeeding meals for the rest of this trip, we will continue to do as we did – take off from the band and venture a little further to get something better.
Photo Credits:
Vitor Oliveira (Wikimedia Commons), resorthappa.com, thelonelytraveler.org, classic-portugal.com, emiliodearriba (Trip Advisor), Andre A (Trip Advisor)
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