My bestie who is a local brought me, a filthy American, to this absolute local gem... (may his people forgive him for this). The food took an unholy amount of time to come out, and it wasn't even busy. I'm convinced it's because I'm American. It's fine. I'll process it in my diary later like a mature adult.
Anyway, the wait? Worth it. If this restaurant were a toxic relationship, I'd stay. No notes.
The leitão (baby pig) was succulent (I hate that word, but it's accurate), and the skin crackled in your mouth: sharp, loud, and wildly satisfying. It came with a rich, savory jus that didn't need to save the dish, just hang out and enhance what was already perfect. And unlike most American food where you need sauce to disguise the mediocrity, here the pig and the jus were like Simon and The Garfoonkul, both could stand alone, but together? Magic.
My friend didn't love the sparkling wine (he has a palate that whispers "Michelin star or bust"), but I thought it was solid! He said the grapes came from the vineyard across the street. Like, literally, across the street. I thought this was so cool!
Also, let the record show: I fed him In-N-Out when he visited the States, and this is what he gave me in return. No regrets. None.
I may never return to Porto but I hope to return here one day.
Dessert: the Molotov cake (egg-white cloud dessert)? Tasted like air and lies- hard pass.
Sides: slapped. read more