A TOAST TO SARDINES!
This tasty trip to the Algarve will make your mouth water
HOT AND sizzling, the fish is slapped down in front of me straight from the open fire, the silver skin lightly scorched, the aroma irresistible. I pick up my knife and fork, only for Antonio, a local foodie, to intervene. ‘That’s not the way to eat a sardine! Pick it up with your hands.’
I do — cramming the succulent, oily flesh into my mouth. It’s as soft as butter, with the salty tang of the Atlantic, the simple fruit of the sea at its freshest best. Here in the Algarve, I’ve found the perfect sardine.
Most Britons jet into this southern strip of Portugal for its sandy beaches and golf courses, but we are here for the food. Mind you, when staying at the Porto Bay in Falesia, we also get our share of luxury. Perched on a cliff-top near Albufeira, it’s a splendid place to soak up the sun and sea views.
But back to the fish. At a market in Faro (pictured), the regional capital, the stalls glisten with bream, bass, snapper, swordfish, salmon, shark, monk fish, tuna, eels, shrimp, lobster and spider crab. Our eyes settle on the serried ranks of silvery sardines — those eight-inch power-packs of protein that are a staple the world over forked from a tin, but when fresh-caught and barbecued whole, are a feast for gourmets.
They are the heart and soul of the Algarve, according to Antonio Guerreiro, of Eating Algarve Food Tours, our invaluable guide to the region’s food specialities. His gastronomic Fisherman Tour begins in a busy snack- bar, where we gorge on bifana, a hot pork sandwich, which local fishermen stoke up on before heading out to sea each day.
Then we make our way through the market, sampling bread and cheese before slipping into a cafe for a mid-morning massinha
de peixe, a steaming stew of grouper, macaroni and mint. It’s delicious, as are the razor-clams and dry tuna we try as we wander Faro’s streets, before heading to the harbour for a sumptuous dish of xerem — polenta and clams in shells.
We make a dozen stops to eat and drink, all accompanied by lively talk about the Roman, Moorish and medieval remains we pass. This is far from being another pit stop on the tourist track.
Later, we head to the western tip of the Algarve to lunch on golden bream and squid at the Telheiro do Infante restaurant in Sagres. We stare in awe at the Atlantic from the same spot from that 15th- century navigators gazed, dreaming of discovering the New World.
Our highlight is a restaurant in downtown Faro, on a side street well away from the sea-front tourist spots. Wooden tables are covered with plastic cloths, smoke swirls and the sweating cook furiously grills 30 sardines at a time on the open fire.
But Chalavar is full to bursting. Locals, from street cleaners to the mayor, eat here.
Once we’ve finished our fingerlicking feast, a flask of red wine is produced, not to wash down the meal but to rinse our hands. With this ritual, we are initiated into the cult as Sardine-Heads.