Two weeks ago, after a very relaxing holiday in Galicia, we chose to make our way home to Jerez via Portugal, stopping off for two nights in Oporto on the way. I’ve been to where they make Madeira, I live where they make sherry but I had never been to Oporto, so this was an exciting opportunity to visit the place where they make Port. For me, the “traditional” fortified wines are madeira, sherry and port so in a way this completes the circle.

What struck me immediately on arriving at Vila Nova de Gaia, where all the port lodges are, was how geared up they are for visitors. This is starkly different to the experiences to be had at the sherry bodegas in Jerez. I’m being general here, so there are exceptions, but I think the sherry trade could learn a lot from their cousins in Portugal. But of course that’s only if the sherry trade sees any benefit in visitors to their bodegas. I often wonder if they really do.

If I were a winemaker and someone made the effort to turn up at my cellar door, interested in my product, I’d be more than happy to show them around, give them a taste and hopefully sell them a bottle or, even better, a case or two. Surely, that’s good PR? Is there any point in catering for wine tourism? Is it worth opening up to visitors? Actions speak louder than words, so the port companies obviously think wine tourism is a …

Two weeks ago, my boyfriend and I decided to take a weekend holiday up North to Guimarães, though each of us seemed to have different intentions for going. I wanted to visit all the wineries of Minho and enjoy a series of tastings, while he just wanted to relax and take it easy. In the end, he won since all of the wineries were closed for the August holiday; but the very Friday night we drove up, I was able savor as dish that I have been waiting a year to taste and ended up enjoying one of the best meals I’ve ever had!

If you do decide to drive up north from Lisbon, mostly likely, you’ll be taking the Estrada National, or National highway, which is about the only major highway in the area. The highway goes right through the town of Mealhada in the region of Bairrada, a small town but popular throughout the country for its Leitão Assado da Bairrada. What is this? Well, its the most succulent suckling pig that you’ll find anywhere! Actually, it’s not quite a suckling pig; the piglets used are between a month and a month and a half old and have been weaned, weighing an average of 6 to 10 kilos. Originally from towns of Covões and Cantanhede, about 10km east, Leitão Assado has been regarded as the richest gastronomic traditions of the region and Mealhada takes pride in roasting their acorn fed piglets in brick ovens fueled by the aromatic eucalyptus bark. The result is a soft and intensely flavorful meat that flakes right off the bone, accompanied by very crispy, golden-orange skin. Additionally, they drizzle a very …

Gabriella and Ryan would like to welcome all of you who read the recently published article in the Star Tribune, our hometown paper from Minneapolis, Minnesota. Bill Ward, the Star Tribune’s wine and food writer, was kind enough to meet with Ryan, while sending some additional questions to Gabriella, in order to profile our entertaining and unexpected journey.

Having just read the article, we feel that Bill did a great job overall, and despite some left out content and a few errors (such as the word el enchufe being misspelled as el enfouche), we’re ecstatic to have all of you join us from the Twin Cities. That said, we’d like to personally introduce ourselves and direct you to some of our favorite links, sites, and stories! Oh, and for those of you who only caught the article in the paper, continue on to Bill Ward’s blog to read some quotes from our lunch!

So welcome, one and all, and we hope that a few of you stick around and continue to follow us. If you know what RSS is, you can subscribe to Catavino here, and if you want to just sign up for our monthly newsletter (completely independent content) you can do so in the side bar to the right of this post.

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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 …

It’s summertime in Portugal, and as the tourists flood the downtown, the Portuguese retreat to their local restaurants and bars to enjoy the gastronomic tradition of the season: snails! Yes, that’s right, Caracois are to the Portuguese as hot dogs and hamburgers are to the Americans this season, and they’re both cheap eats. From what most Americans know about snails in general, we know from the French, and still don’t quite understand why they would regard such things as a delicacy! Well, it may not be a delicacy here, but they’re definitely something the Portuguese like to eat a lot of, having anxiously awaited the moment in mid-June when they see the signs go up outside the restaurants saying “Há Caracois” (there are Caracois).

But I never thought I’d see people get so excited over something my culture won’t even get near. When I walk into a local bar or cafe here, between the hours of 5 and 7pm, the whole place is packed with everyone chowing down on heaping plates of Caracois. It may look like an enormous amount but these Portuguese snails are much smaller than their known French cousins. So there’s a lot of lip-smacking and finger-licking, as the Caracois are cooked in a very flavorful broth and its custom to just suck those little guys right out of their shells! They do give you toothpicks if you’re not courageous enough, so you can pull them out instead (like I did).

The tradition of eating Caracois in the summer originated in the southerly Portuguese region of Alentejo, with influence from the Andalucia region in southern Spain. Both of these regions get extremely hot in the summer but also have the humidity that promotes snail …