Travel: Portugal, At the Pace of Appetite

We experienced Portugal on foot and by car, traveling at the pace of appetite and curiosity.

In Lisbon, a walking tour with Devour Tours became my introduction not just to the city’s neighborhoods, but to its food culture and history. The streets felt layered and lived-in, and each stop offered both flavor and context. Tinned fish showed up everywhere, not as a gimmick but as a respected tradition. Sardines, mackerel, and tuna preserved in olive oil or tomato reflected Portugal’s relationship with the sea and the idea of preservation as a craft.

Sintra brought a change in mood. Palaces rose from forests and mist, imaginative and ornate, yet softened by their natural surroundings. Trees, moss, and winding paths kept the experience grounded, allowing the grandeur without overwhelm.

The Jerónimos Monastery grounded my time in Lisbon with its calm presence. Walking through its limestone cloisters, I felt the same sense of care and devotion that I noticed in the city’s kitchens. Built during the Age of Discoveries, the monastery reminded me how Portugal’s history was shaped by what left its ports and what returned. Nearby, I began tasting the country in earnest. Vinho verde felt light and refreshing, more about brightness than weight. Ginginha, the sour cherry liqueur, was served simply and without fuss, while Licor Beirão, herbal and sweet, invited slower sipping and conversation.

Port tastings revealed the patience that went into the wines. From grape to barrel to glass, each step emphasized time and restraint. These tastings were unhurried and thoughtful, much like my visit to Corvall, the village dedicated to pottery. There, traditional clay forms demonstrated the deep connection between food and craft in Portugal. These were everyday vessels made for cooking, storing, and serving, shaped by generations of use rather than decoration.

In Évora, history felt compact and close. Roman ruins, medieval walls, and whitewashed buildings shared the same light. Sheep’s milk cheese stood out as a regional staple. Dense, slightly tangy, and deeply satisfying, it reflected the pastoral landscapes and seasonal rhythms of the region. It tasted unmistakably of place.

Throughout Portugal, food, drink, architecture, and craft felt deeply connected. Nothing stood alone. A glass of green wine, a tin of fish, a piece of pottery, or a slice of sheep’s milk cheese each offered a way to understand how Portugal lives, remembers, and feeds itself, one thoughtful moment at a time.