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algarving foooood

xarém

corn flour is used in the north of portugal to make “broa”, a heavy kind of bread that often accompanies countryside meals… but in the south, this bread is nowhere to be found. instead, they grind the corn coarsely to make xarém, a sort of soupy concoction resembling very watery polenta. corn being corn, it tastes mostly to the flavorings one adds to it, and so it’s incredibly versatile.

you can eat it with mussels and bacon, as is traditional in olhão:

or with octopus, as in this cooking demonstration in tavira:

the corn meal was cooked in the octopus’ cooking water, and turned an unappealing brown, but was actually way tastier than its yellow alternative. either way, it is super heavy as a meal, and best enjoyed in winter. i approve!

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algarving in portugal

analogue wednesday #160

our regional platibanda is a thing of beauty.

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algarving analogue wednesdays in portugal

analogue wednesday #159

home sweet home.

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algarving in portugal

folhado de tavira

you know when things look rather promising and then they turn out to be a disappointment?

yeah. i wanted *so much* to like the cake that bears our new hometown’s name… but in the end, it just wasn’t all that great. i’ve tried it twice now, thinking that perhaps the first try had been a fluke — but i couldn’t finish it in either of the attempts, so i think it’s a lost cause for me.

one has to wonder though, what is the point of a folhado (or puff pastry) that is so saturated in syrup as to ruin all its flakiness and turn it unto an unrecognizable soggy mess? :| why would you do that?

when our friend F came to visit a couple of months ago, he pointed to some in a café and asked what they were made of. the person behind the counter replied “sugar!” and left it at that.

i guess if you like eating sugar, this is good stuff. :D

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algarving in portugal

anatomy of summer

summer came late and then all of a sudden. the roads and the beaches filled with tanned bodies, the scent of sunscreen lotion permeating the air. new voices and accents and honks invading our quiet bubbles, their cars parked every which way down the street.

the hills have gone dry and the children cries alternate between pool-side delight and tired tantrums. grass trimmers and pool motors buzz away, giving the cicadas a run for their money. the swallows come and go, like pendulums over our heads. our bodies stick to chairs during the day and to sheets at night.

our favourite restaurants are full, as are the supermarket’s tills… but we don’t really mind. far from invaders, tourists are powering the workforce of the local communities who live for the summer months. they drive the boats, cook the meals, clean the houses and everything else — and they need these months of business to get through the rest of the year.

but for us, summer is the time to leave it all to them. “when the heat dies down, i’ll be back in town”, as they say. :)