Gabriella and I are adventurous. When out with clients, or even friends, in a new city, we inevitably suggest that they choose something typical from the region that is important to the understanding of the wine or culture of the region. We, for the most part, have been fortunate and rarely end up regretting our choice. Granted, when I was in Toro two years ago, the idea of pig snout was not exactly what I had in mind, but in the end, it turned out to be decent. In fact, I loved it, though I’m not sure Gabriella would have felt the same way had she been with me.

Last week, while visiting a few wineries in the Douro, we were presented with a meal that both surprised and fascinated us. We found our way to a small restaurant in the town of Pinhao, on top of a fire station of all things. Familiar in the sense that everyone seemed to know everyone else, this was the type of place that you might find vineyard workers in, downing jars of young wine while talking of the days events.

As is our typical custom, when the group suggests a traditional dish from the menu, such as the Cozido à Portuguesa, we eagerly accept. In this case. Sipping on our wines, which conversely acted on our empty bellies, leaving us in a bit of a euphoric in mood. To counter the deep, echoing growl, we nibbled on some traditional ham and spreads that come before any Portuguese meal, hoping to ease discomfort.

With a slight rustle behind me signaling an approaching waitress, I realized the food was here. Busily moving the dishes on the table to make room for the large …