In Lisbon, the sea suffuses every aspect of local life\u2014especially when it comes to cuisine. <\/span><\/h3>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nWhen I first caught sight of Lisbon, I could barely keep my eyes open. I was fresh off an overnight transatlantic flight, and I hadn\u2019t been able to sleep. Even so, I was determined to make the most of my five-hour afternoon layover\u2014and to make contact with this city that had captured my curiosity from afar.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
![\"A](\"https:\/\/assets.devourtours.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/Lisbon-city-of-the-sea-1.png\")
<\/figure><\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nTo be honest, what I wanted most was to get a glimpse of the sea (which turned out to be a river, but more on that later). To breathe in the weirdly pleasant smell of rotting fish and salty air, and feel the kind of calm that only comes when I\u2019m by the ocean. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nI don\u2019t know where this innate attraction comes from; I was raised in the middle of the Appalachian mountains, hundreds of miles from the coast. My only explanation is that it must be in my blood: passed down from my grandfather, who was a sailor, and infused into my psyche through childhood trips to the Chesapeake Bay.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
![\"A](\"https:\/\/assets.devourtours.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/Love-Letter-Lisbon-PraC3A7a-do-ComC3A9rcio.jpg\")
The Pra\u00e7a do Com\u00e9rcio offers a sweeping sea-level view of the Tagus River.<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nBut let\u2019s get back to Lisbon.<\/h2>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Portugal\u2019s capital is sometimes called the city of seven hills. It’s a sprawling expanse of old houses and churches, terracotta tiles and recklessly refined street art. This urban chaos, in all its contradictory beauty, spills down the steep slopes until they reach the water. And although Lisbon may get its nickname from the terrain, its spirit comes straight from the sea.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
The second time I came to Lisbon, I was marginally better rested. I had been traveling solo through Portugal, clinging to the coast as I made my way down from Porto. I had already fallen in love with one particular feature of this country: almost all of it is fairly close to the ocean. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n![\"A](\"https:\/\/assets.devourtours.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/Devour-Showcooking-55.jpg\")
A view of Costa da Caparica, just across the river from Lisbon.<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThis geographic fact has influenced Portugal\u2019s history, its culture and of course its cuisine. From its generations of sailors, explorers and fishermen to its black and white tiled streets depicting schooners and seashells, salt water runs through Lisbon\u2019s veins.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
A history of exploration<\/h2>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
To get an idea of how much reverence the Portuguese have for seafaring historical figures, just head to Bel\u00e9m. There you\u2019ll find the Padr\u00e3o dos Descobrimentos<\/a>, a monumental homage to those who ventured out from what seemed like the edge of the world, hoping to see what lay beyond it. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThis massive sculpture celebrates the Age of Discovery: the era during which overseas exploration flourished and the trends of globalization and colonialism emerged. It\u2019s a modernistic representation of a giant ship flanked by 33 historical figures, ranging from Alfonso V to Lu\u00eds de Cam\u00f5es. Of course, the water that these figures are gazing out upon is not exactly the open ocean; it\u2019s the Tagus River estuary, from which their ships departed en route to the Atlantic.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
![\"Lisbon,](\"https:\/\/assets.devourtours.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/Love-Letter-Lisbon-PadrC3A3o-dos-Descobrimentos.jpg\")
The Padr\u00e3o dos Descobrimentos honors Portuguese sailors and explorers.<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nSo yes, although Lisbon is a city of the sea, it\u2019s a city on <\/i>the river. The sweeping panoramic views from its highest miradouros <\/i>look out over the Tagus and the peninsula beyond it. But this does not detract from the sense that it sits on the precipice of Europe, right on the edge of the seemingly infinite expanse that separates Old World from New.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Perhaps it\u2019s this feeling of possibility that gives Lisbon a subtle kind of hopefulness; an air of opportunity and innovation that contrasts with age-old tradition. This juxtaposition is visible all over the capital: in rickety trams and high-speed trains, in centuries-old architecture and postmodern art. But nowhere is it more apparent than on the table. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nStraight from the sea to the plate<\/h2>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Lisbon\u2019s culinary culture reflects two seemingly contradictory aspects. On one end, there are classic dishes that bring to mind wizened old grandmothers and family meals in cramped kitchens. On the other, there are avant-garde chefs and haute cuisine. This can be said of many European capitals; but in Lisbon, opposites seem to attract. These two phenomena coexist\u2014for the most part\u2014in harmony.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
So what is it that unites the young and the old, the time-tested and the daring? If you ask me, it all comes down to the sea. Whether you\u2019re biting into a piping hot cod fritter or nibbling at a delicately plated piece of fish, the same essential flavor is there.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
![\"A](\"https:\/\/assets.devourtours.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/photo-7-1.jpg\")
Deep-fried cod is one of the most classic\u2014and simple\u2014Portuguese dishes.<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nSo many of Lisbon\u2019s\u2014and Portugal\u2019s\u2014specialties are fundamentally based on seafood. Take, for example, the canned delicacies<\/a> that either entrance or disgust tourists by the dozen. Tins of tuna, sardines, cod and mussels, preserved in everything from olive oil and garlic to tomato sauce. They\u2019re stinky, they\u2019re salty and they\u2019re entirely addictive. But what I love most about them is that they don\u2019t try to hide their origin\u2014these little cans are bursting with the taste, quite literally, of the ocean.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n![\"A](\"https:\/\/assets.devourtours.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/what-to-buy-in-lisbon-portugal-tinned-fish-1.jpg\")
Some canned seafood is just as beautiful as it is delicious.<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThis clear connection of food to its origins is something that I have never taken for granted. Like many American kids, I grew up eating fish sticks and other forms of seafood that barely resembled the creatures they were (supposedly) made of.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
The cult of candid consumption<\/h2>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
When I relocated to southern Europe, it took a while for me to get used to fish being served whole, eyeballs and all. But after a couple years of adventurous eating, I\u2019ve become a believer in knowing what I’m consuming\u2014and where it comes from. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nIn general, the more that food resembles its original form, the more authentic it feels. So when I peel open a can of tuna, I want to smell the salt water. When I order grilled sardines<\/a>, I want to know that they came from the dock down the road.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
<\/figure><\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nTo be honest, what I wanted most was to get a glimpse of the sea (which turned out to be a river, but more on that later). To breathe in the weirdly pleasant smell of rotting fish and salty air, and feel the kind of calm that only comes when I\u2019m by the ocean. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n I don\u2019t know where this innate attraction comes from; I was raised in the middle of the Appalachian mountains, hundreds of miles from the coast. My only explanation is that it must be in my blood: passed down from my grandfather, who was a sailor, and infused into my psyche through childhood trips to the Chesapeake Bay.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Portugal\u2019s capital is sometimes called the city of seven hills. It’s a sprawling expanse of old houses and churches, terracotta tiles and recklessly refined street art. This urban chaos, in all its contradictory beauty, spills down the steep slopes until they reach the water. And although Lisbon may get its nickname from the terrain, its spirit comes straight from the sea.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n The second time I came to Lisbon, I was marginally better rested. I had been traveling solo through Portugal, clinging to the coast as I made my way down from Porto. I had already fallen in love with one particular feature of this country: almost all of it is fairly close to the ocean. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n This geographic fact has influenced Portugal\u2019s history, its culture and of course its cuisine. From its generations of sailors, explorers and fishermen to its black and white tiled streets depicting schooners and seashells, salt water runs through Lisbon\u2019s veins.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n To get an idea of how much reverence the Portuguese have for seafaring historical figures, just head to Bel\u00e9m. There you\u2019ll find the Padr\u00e3o dos Descobrimentos<\/a>, a monumental homage to those who ventured out from what seemed like the edge of the world, hoping to see what lay beyond it. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n This massive sculpture celebrates the Age of Discovery: the era during which overseas exploration flourished and the trends of globalization and colonialism emerged. It\u2019s a modernistic representation of a giant ship flanked by 33 historical figures, ranging from Alfonso V to Lu\u00eds de Cam\u00f5es. Of course, the water that these figures are gazing out upon is not exactly the open ocean; it\u2019s the Tagus River estuary, from which their ships departed en route to the Atlantic.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n So yes, although Lisbon is a city of the sea, it\u2019s a city on <\/i>the river. The sweeping panoramic views from its highest miradouros <\/i>look out over the Tagus and the peninsula beyond it. But this does not detract from the sense that it sits on the precipice of Europe, right on the edge of the seemingly infinite expanse that separates Old World from New.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Perhaps it\u2019s this feeling of possibility that gives Lisbon a subtle kind of hopefulness; an air of opportunity and innovation that contrasts with age-old tradition. This juxtaposition is visible all over the capital: in rickety trams and high-speed trains, in centuries-old architecture and postmodern art. But nowhere is it more apparent than on the table. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Lisbon\u2019s culinary culture reflects two seemingly contradictory aspects. On one end, there are classic dishes that bring to mind wizened old grandmothers and family meals in cramped kitchens. On the other, there are avant-garde chefs and haute cuisine. This can be said of many European capitals; but in Lisbon, opposites seem to attract. These two phenomena coexist\u2014for the most part\u2014in harmony.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n So what is it that unites the young and the old, the time-tested and the daring? If you ask me, it all comes down to the sea. Whether you\u2019re biting into a piping hot cod fritter or nibbling at a delicately plated piece of fish, the same essential flavor is there.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n So many of Lisbon\u2019s\u2014and Portugal\u2019s\u2014specialties are fundamentally based on seafood. Take, for example, the canned delicacies<\/a> that either entrance or disgust tourists by the dozen. Tins of tuna, sardines, cod and mussels, preserved in everything from olive oil and garlic to tomato sauce. They\u2019re stinky, they\u2019re salty and they\u2019re entirely addictive. But what I love most about them is that they don\u2019t try to hide their origin\u2014these little cans are bursting with the taste, quite literally, of the ocean.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n This clear connection of food to its origins is something that I have never taken for granted. Like many American kids, I grew up eating fish sticks and other forms of seafood that barely resembled the creatures they were (supposedly) made of.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n When I relocated to southern Europe, it took a while for me to get used to fish being served whole, eyeballs and all. But after a couple years of adventurous eating, I\u2019ve become a believer in knowing what I’m consuming\u2014and where it comes from. <\/span><\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n In general, the more that food resembles its original form, the more authentic it feels. So when I peel open a can of tuna, I want to smell the salt water. When I order grilled sardines<\/a>, I want to know that they came from the dock down the road.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nBut let\u2019s get back to Lisbon.<\/h2>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
A history of exploration<\/h2>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Straight from the sea to the plate<\/h2>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
The cult of candid consumption<\/h2>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
![\"Fresh](\"https:\/\/assets.devourtours.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/9-Zombie-bar-1.jpg\")