How Humans Made the Soil of the Douro Valley

This is the second lecture about the Douro Valley by the great viticulturist António Magalhães. Today’s theme goes literally beneath the surface. After exploring the climate in our first session, we turn to the second pillar of the region’s terroir: its soil.

A Soil Made by Hand

When you walk through a vineyard in the Douro Valley, take a moment to look down. You see the slow artistry of nature, which over millions of years created the schist beneath your feet, and the tireless toil of generations who transformed it into living soil where vines can thrive.

The Douro’s deep valleys were carved over millennia by the river and its tributaries. On those steep slopes, the native soils, known as leptosols, are little more than a palm’s depth of earth resting on hard schist. Left untouched, they would never have sustained flourishing vines.

But in the Douro, people refused to accept nature’s limits. Over the course of centuries, they created anthrosols — soils made by human hands. The locals call the act saibrar, agronomists surribar: it means breaking rock to create soil where vineyards can grow.

The photograph shows that the schist bedrock appears brittle and easily broken. Above it lies the soil created by human labor. Look closely, and you can see the vine roots reaching down, searching for that last drop of water that keeps them alive through the scorching summer heat.

The image illustrates the words of the Marquis of Villa Maior, from his 1875 treatise, Practical Viticulture:

“The longevity of the Douro and Burgundy vines is due to the extraordinary development of their roots, favored by the nature of the subsoil.”

Breaking Rock to Grow Life

Until the late 19th century, surribar was done with nothing more than pickaxes and iron bars. In the 20th century, dynamite was introduced, followed later by bulldozers and hydraulic excavators. Yet the goal remained the same: to give each vine at least a meter and a half of soil depth.

The schist fractures almost vertically, allowing roots to slip deep between its plates. There, the vine finds not abundance but balance: less than 1.5 percent organic matter, yet perfectly aerated and rich in minerals. These fractured layers also ensure excellent drainage, carrying away excess rainwater while retaining just enough moisture for the vines to endure the long dry season. It is a poor soil that yields noble fruit, a reminder that in wine, perhaps as in life, struggle builds character.

Stones and Gravel

Kneel in a Douro vineyard and you’ll see a glittering mosaic of crushed stone and gravel. To outsiders, it looks barren; to the vines, it’s paradise.

In 1947, agronomist Álvaro Moreira da Fonseca, who devised the Douro’s vineyard classification, ranked soils by their gravel content. His creed, simple and enduring, can be expressed in words worthy of being carved in stone: “Vines thrive on stony ground.”

The gravel plays alchemy with the elements: reflecting sunlight by day, releasing heat by night, regulating the vine’s rhythm. It stores warmth, tempers vigor, and transforms scarcity into intensity.

Counting by the Thousands

António says that “The poorer the soil, the closer the vines.” Douro farmers compensate for the soil’s low fertility by planting vines at higher densities. Each vine produces modestly, but together they create abundance. Instead of counting hectares, growers speak of milheiros — groups of a thousand vines.

After the phylloxera epidemic, the rebuilt terraces — socalcos — reached a density of 6.5 milheiros per hectare, enough to make every meter of stone wall worthwhile. 

Sculpting the Mountain

Rain, the same force that helped carve the Douro, also threatens to destroy it. The solution lies in building terraces to prevent soil from sliding away. During the surriba, the stones brought to the surface are removed and reused to build the vineyard walls. This operation, called despedrega, is a practice that makes the back-breaking labor of surribar more rewarding.

Some of the terraces devastated by phylloxera were never replanted. Many owners, overcome with despair, abandoned the region to rebuild their lives elsewhere. Others chose to start anew, replanting vines on gentler slopes with more forgiving soils and milder climates. 

These abandoned terraces, known as mortórios, have been reclaimed by the Mediterranean forest. Their stone walls, now entwined with wild vegetation, stand as silent witnesses to a tragic chapter in the Douro’s history.

The oldest terraces, built after phylloxera, were supported by dry-stone walls, feats of balance and beauty where each stone rests “one upon two.” In the 1960s, as labor became scarce and tractors arrived, new earth-banked terraces (patamares), depicted below, took their place — practical but less graceful.

At the turn of this century, António Magalhães and David Guimaraens, the head winemaker of Taylor’s Fladgate, combined the beauty of the old dry-stone terraces with the practicality of the modern earth-banked ones. Inspired by California’s Benziger Family Winery, they built narrow terraces, just 1.5 meters wide, each with a single vine row and a gentle 3 percent slope to drain rainwater safely. Precision-leveled by laser, this innovation protects against erosion while preserving the Douro’s graceful geometry. 

Root and Rock

The phylloxera plague that ravaged European vineyards in the late nineteenth century arrived at the Douro in 1863-64.

Salvation only came after Jules-Émile Planchon, a French botanist, and Charles Valentine Riley, an American entomologist, discovered that grafting European grapevines (Vitis vinifera) onto American rootstocks could save the vines. 

One such rootstock, Rupestris du Lot, thrived on the Douro’s poor, dry, schistous hillsides.

It seems to facilitate potassium absorption. This mineral helps regulate the opening and closing of tiny pores on leaves, called stomata, which control transpiration and CO₂ uptake — both essential to photosynthesis.

For decades, the Rupestris du Lot anchored the valley’s post-phylloxera vineyards, its deep-seeking roots echoing the surriba’s purpose: to connect life to stone. Even as newer, more productive hybrids replaced it, António continues to praise its quiet virtues — longevity, restraint, and resilience — the very qualities that define the Douro itself.

Granite Lagares

The granite lagares of the Douro are among the most enduring symbols of the region’s winemaking heritage. Their coarse surfaces help regulate temperature during fermentation and impart a tactile connection to the land — the sensation of grape skins and must mingling with the mineral essence of granite itself.

For centuries, blocks of rock were quarried from places like Vila Pouca de Aguiar, Portugal’s self-proclaimed “granite capital,” where the stone’s density allows it to be cut into large rectangular slabs. 

António concludes his lecture with poetic words: “In the Douro where I grew up, the grapes journey from rock to rock — ripening in the heat of schist and fermenting in cool granite lagares.”

What to Visit

The train trip from Pinhão to Pocinho offers a geology lesson. Along the slopes that flank the railway, you see the leptosol with its thin layer of soil above the parent rock.

The art of building dry stone walls is beautifully explained at the Wine Museum in São João da Pesqueira, a town whose historic center also deserves exploration. The visit whets the appetite for lunch at Toca da Raposa, in Ervedosa do Douro, about 8 kilometers away along the National Road 222, heading toward the mouth of the Torto River — another magical tributary that shapes the wines of the Douro, alongside the Pinhão River. In the summer, you can also book an unforgettable picnic at the Foz Torto estate with our friend Abílio Tavares da Silva.

António recommends reading “Taste the Limestone: A Geologist Wanders Through the World of Wine,” by Alex Maltman. You’ll return home with a deeper understanding of soils and their decisive role in defining terroirs across the world.

A Journey Through the Douro’s Three Regions with António Magalhães

António Magalhães, former chief viticulturist of Taylor Fladgate, is revered throughout the Douro for his deep knowledge of its vineyards and terroir. He graciously agreed to give us a series of master classes about the Douro, and what follows are notes from the first of these sessions—an insider’s look at one of the world’s most extraordinary wine regions.

About António

António was born in Régua, in the heart of the Douro. Both of his parents came from families who cared for their own vineyards. He often spent time at his maternal grandfather’s estate, where his love for the Douro was first nurtured. Although he never inherited land, his studies were guided by a single calling: to work among the vines of his native valley.

A Land of Mountains and Microclimates

The Douro is immense — 250,000 hectares of rugged mountains, of which only 44,000 are occupied by vineyards. It is the largest mountain viticulture region in the world, and the only one with a Mediterranean climate crossed by a navigable river that flows into the Atlantic Ocean.

The basin of the Douro, the largest in the Iberian Peninsula, is shared by Portugal and Spain. Its main river and tributaries flow through a tapestry of vineyards across wine regions: Ribera del Duero, Rueda, Cigales, Toro, and Arribes, in Spain, Douro and Távora-Varosa in Portugal. You could say that the Douro is a river of wine.

The Douro’s rise as a great wine region began in 1703, when Portugal signed the Methuen Treaty with England, opening trade between the two nations. Douro’s Port wine became popular in England, and demand soared. Vineyards spread, and some producers began to cut corners—darkening their wines with elderberry juice and sweetening them with sugar. Port’s reputation faltered, and trust among English importers began to erode.

To restore order, avoid the use of fertile land for viticulture, and protect Port’s reputation, the Marquis of Pombal created the world’s first demarcated wine region in 1756. The Companhia Geral da Agricultura das Vinhas do Alto Douro, a public company, marked its boundaries with granite pillars known as marcos pombalinos and classified its vineyards. The finest plots produced the prized vinhos de feitoria, destined for the great British trading houses (feitorias) in Porto. Wines of intermediate quality, the vinhos de embarque, were partly exported, while the more modest vinhos de ramo were reserved for local consumption. With this demarcation, a singular landscape was born, shaped by nature’s hand and human will.

It was fortuitous that there was open land in Gaia, near Porto, on the southern bank at the mouth of the Douro. There, the north-facing slopes and the cooler, more humid weather provided ideal conditions for storing and aging wine. With its quality safeguarded and easy access to an Atlantic port from which ships could carry it abroad, Port wine flourished, becoming prized around the world.

The Douro River flows west to meet the Atlantic at Porto (Álvaro Moreira da Fonseca (1944–45)).

The climate and regions of the Douro

On what António calls the “Olympic podium” of terroir, climate wins gold, soil takes silver, and grape varieties bronze. Today, we focus on climate.

Vines don’t need irrigation, but they do require at least 500 mm of rainfall per year. In the Douro, however, the irregular rainfall and rapid runoff down the steep slopes increase that need to about 600–700 mm. The timing of that rain is crucial. It rains about as much in Pinhão, at the center of the Douro, as in Paris—around 640 mm annually. However, in the capital of France, rain falls throughout the year, whereas in the Douro, the rain is in tune with the vines’ vegetative cycle: it falls mainly in autumn and winter, when the vines are dormant. Planted in the right places, Douro vineyards never suffer from thirst, only from heat.

The distribution of rainfall divides the Douro into three distinct subregions. Baixo Corgo is lush and green, blessed with 800 to 1,000 mm of rain each year. Cima Corgo, home to the great Port houses, is drier, with 600 and 800 mm. Farther east lies Douro Superior — sun-scorched, rugged, and remote, where rainfall often falls below 600 mm.

Rainfall in the Douro: blue = high, yellow = medium, orange = low.

Vineyards are abundant in Baixo Corgo and sparse in Douro Superior, where cultivation is possible only in small islands with favorable microclimates. In recent decades, irrigated vines have appeared in Douro Superior, yet they rarely produce grapes suitable for making Port.

The scholar Alfredo Guerra Tenreiro wrote that “there is a uniqueness in the Douro climate that one can feel in the uniqueness of Port wine.” In the 1940s and 1950s, he mapped the aridity of the Douro using a simple measure: average temperature multiplied by 100, divided by rainfall. As one moves west or climbs the surrounding hills, aridity decreases because the temperature falls and rainfall increases. 

As we ascend the hills that flank the Douro and its tributaries, the temperature drops roughly 0.65°C per 100 meters. With peaks rising to 600 or 700 meters, temperatures can be as much as 3.6°C cooler than in vineyards planted near the river, at 100 meters of altitude.

Orientation also matters. South-facing slopes are, on average, two degrees warmer than north-facing ones during the summer — a subtle difference with dramatic effects. It explains why the Douro can yield everything from festive sparkling wines, such as Celso Pereira’s Vértice, to bright whites, velvety reds, and opulent Ports.

Álvaro Moreira da Fonseca used location, altitude, and orientation to craft his brilliant classification of the region’s vineyards, grading them from A to F. This system still underpins the benefício rules that determine how much of a vineyard’s production can be used for Port wine. His maps, drawn in 1944 and 1945, are masterpieces. Fonseca set 500 meters as the upper limit for Port production, deducting points for vineyards planted above that line.

Map by Álvaro Moreira da Fonseca (1944–45). Red marks top wine areas.

Looking at Fonseca’s maps, we see a “blessed valley” — Vale de Mendiz, where the Pinhão River meets the Douro. There, rainfall from the Baixo Corgo meets the warmth of the Cima Corgo, producing wines of exceptional balance. It is no coincidence that iconic estates like Quinta do Noval and Wine & Soul call Vale de Mendiz home.

Traveling Through the Douro

António recommends visiting the Douro between mid-May and mid-November, staying for several days to ensure you catch a sunny spell. Gray skies hide some of the valley’s splendor.

He suggests two journeys for those eager to understand the Douro.

First, drive along the A24 highway from Vila Real to Régua, crossing the Marão mountain — an invisible wall separating cool Atlantic air from the dry Mediterranean hinterland. You’ll cross the Baixo Corgo moving perpendicular to the course of the Douro River. The landscape is breathtaking, and along the way you can feel the shifts in temperature and altitude that shape the character of Douro wines. 

Begin in Vila Real at 450 meters of altitude, and as you descend toward Régua, at 100 meters, feel the temperature rise and watch the hills unfold into a sea of vines. Olive trees stand like sentinels at the edges of vineyards. Climb toward Lamego, at 540 meters, and feel the air cool once more. The whitewashed houses, stone wine lodges, and hillside villages lend a human touch to the landscape, making the journey unforgettable.

In Régua, stop at Aneto, a small, family-run restaurant where hospitality flows as generously as the wine produced in their own estate. In Lamego, stop at Pastelaria Velha da Sé for a bola de carne (savory meat-filled bread), visit the cathedral, the Escadório de Nossa Senhora dos Remédios, a Baroque stairway, and admire the Ribeiro da Conceição theater, a miniature La Scala.

The second journey is by train, linking three UNESCO World Heritage sites: Porto, the Douro, and the Côa Museum, which preserves paleolithic art.

The hills were carved to lay the train tracks, turning the voyage into a geology lesson on Douro’s mother rock, the schist. Its cleavage is almost vertical, allowing the vine roots to penetrate deeply into the cracks in search of precious water.

As the train leaves Régua, schist terraces rise and curve around the river. Disembark at Pinhão and linger a few days visiting nearby wine estates. Before you go, admire the station’s twenty-four azulejo panels, made in 1937 by the Aleluia Factory in Aveiro. They depict the Douro landscape and trace the making of Port—from the harvest of sun-ripened grapes to the voyage of slender rabelo boats, which carry barrels to the cellars of Vila Nova de Gaia.

Continue upriver through the Cima Corgo, the heartland of Port. In bygone days, train-station restaurants were famed for their quality. Calça Curta, at Tua Station, keeps this tradition alive. Farther along, stop at Ferradosa Station to dine at Toca da Raposa, celebrated for its regional cooking. 

As the train enters the Douro Superior, the air turns drier, the heat more intense, the hills steeper. At Cachão da Valeira, the landscape shifts to granite. Today, the river glides wide and serene, but it once raged against a massive granite barrier that made navigation perilous. Here, in 1861, tragedy struck: a boat capsized carrying two iconic figures—Dona Antónia Ferreira, owner of vast wine estates, and the Baron of Forrester, an English merchant and mapmaker who devoted his life to the region. According to legend, Dona Antónia survived, buoyed by her billowing skirts, while the Baron drowned, dragged down by the gold coins in his pockets. 

In summer, cicadas sing for travelers along the stretch between the Valeira gorge and Pocinho. As you near Pocinho, the heat intensifies—writer Francisco José Viegas once quipped that “hell’s heat comes from Pocinho.” Stop at Taberna da Julinha, a local restaurant that, in the summer, serves the valley’s celebrated tomatoes, bursting with flavor and sweetness.

The Côa Museum lies about 10 kilometers from the train station. There, you can contemplate the largest and oldest ensemble of open-air Paleolithic engravings in Europe. Horses, deer, and goats emerge from the stone, their lines layered in a dance of timeless motion. Dine on the museum’s terrace, overlooking the river laid bare in all its austere beauty—terraces and cliffs carved by nature and human will.

The Future of the Douro

The Douro was forged in hardship. Its people labored to carve terraces from unforgiving slopes; its vines learned to endure searing summers and biting winter frosts. Yet this endurance may be the valley’s greatest gift. It has prepared the Douro to face the trials of a changing world.

A Wine Lover’s Guide to Bairrada

When wine lovers ask which places they must visit in Portugal, we always recommend Bairrada—a name worth remembering, for it belongs to one of the country’s most captivating wine regions.

Famous Grapes

Bairrada’s soils are a mixture of clay and limestone with streaks of sand. The region is the birthplace of two exceptional grapes: the red Baga and the white Bical. Baga thrives in clay-limestone, while Bical flourishes in both clay-limestone and sandy soils.

The Sparkling Capital of Portugal

Bairrada is Portugal’s sparkling-wine capital. The clay-limestone soils echo the chalk of Champagne, storing moisture during dry spells and reflecting sunlight, allowing grapes to ripen slowly while retaining vibrant acidity and minerality. Cool Atlantic breezes and morning fog temper the summer heat and lengthen the maturation process, giving the fruit extra complexity. The region has been crafting traditional-method sparkling wines since 1890, and they’re now an integral part of daily life. Many meals start and finish with a glass of bubbles, transforming even simple dinners into a celebration.

Where to Stay

We like to make the Vista Alegre Hotel in Ílhavo our base. Built on the marshes of the ria, where saltwater and freshwater meet, the hotel surrounds the 19th-century manor house of the family who discovered the secret of porcelain in 1824. 

The hotel’s shops overflow with graceful Vista Alegre porcelain and exuberant mid-20th-century designs by Rafael Bordallo Pinheiro. Feeling inspired? Join a porcelain-painting class and bring home your own creation.

Wine tasting

Luís Pato 

Our first stop is usually the winery of the legendary Luís Pato. In the 1990s, when foreign consultants urged Portuguese farmers to replace native grapes with French varietals, he stood firm in Baga’s defense. Time has vindicated him: today his Baga wines rank among Portugal’s most prized, and his unwavering commitment has earned him the nickname “Mr. Baga.”

Luís’ energy and creativity know no bounds. His Vinha Pã Baga blanc-de-noir sparkling wine, uses hyperoxidation rather than sulfur dioxide during must clarification. The result is a wine with fine, persistent bubbles, featuring aromas of wild berries and toasted brioche, and an elegant finish. 

Every year, Luís bottles 300 precious bottles of Espumante Pé Franco. It is a sparkling wine made with grapes from century-old vines rooted in sandy soils that shielded them from the phylloxera plague that swept Europe in the 19th century. These ungrafted plants produce a tenth of the yield of a modern vineyard. But the wine is extraordinary—bursting with intensity and lingering beautifully on the palate.

Luis and his daughter, Maria João, are great hosts; gather a group of friends, and they can arrange a feast with leitão (roast piglet), perfectly paired with a dazzling tasting of their wines. 

Filipa Pato & William Wouters

Luís’s other daughter, Filipa Pato, and her husband, master sommelier William Wouters, farm biodynamically with stunning results. Often dressed in their playful “Baga terroirista” t-shirts, they are passionate advocates for Bairrada’s land. Their small winery isn’t set up for visits (even members of Coldplay once struggled to arrange a tasting), but their wines are easy to find in local restaurants and well worth seeking out. Highlights include Nossa Solera, a sparkling wine made from a blend of barrel-aged base vintages going back to 2001, and Nossa Missão, an exquisitely complex Baga from a small vineyard planted in 1864, produced with gentle extraction, resulting in an elegant wine that preserves the grape’s aromatic depth. 

Mário Sérgio

Another icon is Mário Sérgio, who proudly calls himself a vigneron—a winemaker who only makes wines with the grapes he cultivates. Every Saturday, he and his son Frederico welcome visitors to his cellars, pouring sparkling and still wines made with joyous finesse. His celebrated Pai Abel honors his father; both the red and the white are wonderful to drink young yet reward patience, gaining even greater depth and nuance with age.

Caves São João

At Caves São João, the genial Célia Alves leads tastings in cellars that date back to 1920, where venerable still and sparkling wines astonish with their refined character and vigor.

Many of these producers, along with others, come together each year for Baga Friends, a joyful celebration of the grape and a perfect opportunity to meet them all in one place.

Where to Eat

For a regal lunch, head to the Bussaco Palace. Built in the waning days of Portugal’s monarchy, the building, surrounded by a lush forest, was once a royal hunting retreat. The British mystery writer Agatha Christie enjoyed vacationing here. Chef Nelson Marques brings the grand dining room to life with elegant dishes crafted from the finest local ingredients, creating a memorable dining experience.

The palace is renowned for producing wines with exceptional aging potential. Its legendary cellar holds vintages dating back to the early 1900s. Winemaker António Rocha continues this tradition. He recently unveiled the palace’s first sparkling wine—a sumptuous cuvée whose brioche-scented bouquet captivates the nose while the palate delights in luxurious creaminess and vibrant freshness.

No visit to Bairrada is complete without tasting leitão assado (roasted piglet). Mugasa is a perfect place to try this delicacy and a favorite lunch spot for local winemakers.

Beyond the Vineyards

Stroll along Costa Nova, famous for its candy-striped fishermen’s houses and sweeping views of the ria. Walk the wooden promenade by the beach and savor a caldeirada (fish stew) at Clube da Vela, where the river views are as memorable as the meal. 

Another local delicacy, prized since Roman times, is eel. Try the fried eels or eel stew at Marinhas in Aveiro. And don’t leave without sampling the region’s signature sweets: ovos moles, a silky egg confection, and crisp wafer-like hóstias.

The Future of Bairrada

While Champagne grapples with warming temperatures—so much so that some producers are buying vineyards in England—Bairrada is protected by the cool breeze of the Atlantic Ocean. It is a region with passionate wine makers, a unique terroir, and a brilliant future. 

Maria Doroteia’s famous Douro biscuits

Jorge Seródio Borges and Sandra Tavares da Silva, the husband-and-wife team behind Wine & Soul, craft some of the Douro Valley’s most iconic wines—among them the extraordinary Guru, Pintas, and Manoella Vinhas Velhas. Jorge’s roots in the valley run deep: his family has been making wine there for five generations.

His mother, Maria Doroteia, devoted her life to teaching the children of the Douro Valley how to read and write. She also has a deep love for animals; at 87 years of age, she still tends to ten hens, who reward her with fresh eggs.

Maria Doroteia is renowned for her cooking. When Jorge and his sister were little, she would bake biscuits and hide them away in tins. As soon as the children caught the first whiff of the delicious aromas, they would set off on a treasure hunt until they found the precious trove of cookies, savoring them with delight.

We recently had the joy of having lunch with Maria Doroteia. With her characteristic generosity, she shared one of her cherished recipes, which we are happy to pass on to you, dear reader.

Douro Biscuits

Ingredients

  • 230 g self-raising flour
  • 200 g sugar
  • 1 egg
  • 80 g butter
  • 90 g cocoa

Instructions

  1. Mix the sugar, egg, and butter.
  2. Add the flour and cocoa, mixing well.
  3. Let the dough rest for 90 minutes to 2 hours.
  4. Roll out on a marble surface until paper-thin.
  5. Cut with a cookie cutter and bake at a low temperature until crisp.
  6. Store in a tin and hide it well! 

The bean pastries of Torres Vedras

Portugal is a land of culinary miracles, where humble ingredients are transformed into transcendental food. Before the dissolution of the religious orders in 1834, many of these wonders came from convent kitchens. But miracles also come from the hands of lay cooks.

One such culinary prodigy is the Pastel de Feijão, a pastry made with white beans in the town of Torres Vedras, just 30 minutes north of Lisbon. The city is celebrated both for its heroic stand against the French during the Napoleonic wars and for its bean pastries.

The first written mention of these pastries is in the catalogue of the Portuguese Ethnography Exhibition published in 1896. Local tradition credits Joaquina Rodrigues, a home cook, with creating the recipe at the end of the 19th century. By the early 20th century, growing demand led to the opening of the first pastry workshops in Torres Vedras. 

Each pastel cradles within its paper-thin, crispy shell a golden cream of almond, flour, sugar, egg yolks, and white beans. Today, the most acclaimed are the Pastéis de Feijão from Serra da Vila. First sold in a modest hillside café in the 1990s, the pastries gained such renown that production had to expand to meet the ever-growing stream of admirers.

If you have a sweet tooth and find yourself traveling north of Lisbon, be sure to stop in Serra da Vila. It is your chance to savor a miraculous creation.

The Serra da Vila pastry store is located at Rua Miguel Jerónimo Nº19A, Serra da Vila, tel. 261 321 552.

Monfortinho water

We spent a memorable afternoon with Ricardo and Vera Leitão Machado at Herdade do Vale Feitoso, talking about water—their passion since they became stewards of this extraordinary 7,500-hectare sanctuary in 2022. Near the Spanish border, the estate once belonged to the Condes da Ponte, a noble family prominent in the 17th century, when Portugal fought to reclaim its independence from Spain.

From this untouched land springs Monfortinho, one of the purest waters on earth: rich in silica, low in minerals and sodium, and free of microplastics and man-made chemicals. Born at the Fonte Santa de Monfortinho, a natural thermal spring by the Erges River, the water begins its journey at the foot of the Penha Garcia Mountain. It then takes a century to cross the estate, seeping through countless layers of soil and rock.

Legends abound of miraculous cures in the Monfortinho thermal baths. Today, science lends credence to the local folklore: silica helps cleanse the body of aluminum, strengthens bones, skin, and hair, and even sharpens the senses of taste and smell.

Visiting Vale Feitoso is like going on a safari. Five hundred kilometers of dirt roads wind through the habitats of European bison, deer, wild horses, foxes, boars, partridges, vultures, eagles, and many other animals. Native breeds of sheep (Churra do Campo and Merina da Beira Baixa), once nearly extinct, are now thriving in the estate. There are no power lines, no paved roads. Silence reigns, broken only by the rustle of the wind.  

Traces of ancient times are scattered across the land. The Romans mined gold here. The Templars later occupied the valley, a place worthy of guarding the Holy Grail.

Ricardo and Vera are determined to keep Vale Feitoso pristine and, above all, to safeguard the purity of its water—a resource as sacred as the Grail and more precious than gold.

Click here for the Monfortinho waters website.

Revisiting Santa Clara

If god is in the details, then Santa Clara, our favorite hotel in Lisbon, is truly blessed. We arrived on a Friday afternoon, weary from a bumper-car-like ride through the city’s busy streets. As soon as we entered Santa Clara, a sense of calm embraced us.

We climbed the stairs slowly, savoring each step. The old lioz, the marble of Lisbon, turned pale by the passage of time blends seamlessly with the soft pink of the newer lioz, creating harmony between past and present.

Our bedroom felt like home. A spacious foyer welcomed us with a plush sofa and a generous bowl of ripe cherries. From the west-facing windows, Lisbon unfolds in all its grandeur: the Pantheon’s majestic dome rising above a sea of orange rooftops, its white stone luminous against the blue shimmer of the Tagus River. More than three centuries in the making, the Pantheon reminds us that some things are worth the wait.

To the east, the bathroom windows open to a tranquil garden planted with lemon trees, where a small choir of birds greeted us. 

The walls and closets are painted in a soft grey that is the perfect frame for the Pantheon’s radiant white. A simple geometry gives the room a sense of serenity. Pine planks draw the eye outward, to views framed by curtains that sway like skirts of ballet dancers caught in a gentle breeze.

In the bathroom, a grand bathtub, hewn from a single block of marble, stands beside two cylindrical basins sculpted from solid stone. Handmade tiles catch and scatter the light, while a thin line of marble placed at eye level evokes a far-off horizon, separating earth from sky.

After dinner, we retired to our room with the sense of being where we belonged. In the morning, sunlight poured in—joyous and bright. We made our way to breakfast—coffee, fresh bread, sweet fruit, creamy yogurt, eggs, and wild mushrooms. We lingered at the table, reluctant to part with this place that is so quietly beautiful.

Santa Clara 1728 is located at Campo de Santa Clara, 128 in Lisbon, tel. 964 362 816, email booking@silentliving.pt. Click here for the hotel website.

The taste of summer

One of our fondest childhood memories is of long, lazy days by the sea, lulled by the sound of the waves and the soft caress of the breeze. It was a state of bliss, marred only by the idleness of our taste buds. Thankfully, a roaming army of beach vendors came to the rescue, offering amusement in the form of golden potato chips—crisply fried in olive oil and seasoned with sea salt.

These memories came rushing back when our friend Raul Reis called to say he was bringing over a sack of potatoes. Raul grows Portugal’s finest potatoes in the quiet village of Sobral on the west coast. This time, he arrived with a bag of bricatas, cultivated in soil enriched with algae from the nearby beach of Porto Dinheiro.

Porto Dinheiro is best known for its vacada, a rustic summertime tradition that draws crowds to watch cows and bulls frolic on the beach. Before the event, the beach must be cleared of the algae that regularly washes ashore. Left in piles, the algae would rot and release a pungent smell. Raul had a better idea—he proposed to the mayor that he take the algae back to his farm as fertilizer. Everybody gained: Raul found a natural way to enrich his soil, and the town rid itself of a nuisance.

Five trucks, each carrying 20 tons, made the journey from Porto Dinheiro to Sobral. Raul allowed the algae to ferment for three weeks, turning the piles weekly to aerate them. He then spread the seaweed across his fields, tilling it into the soil before the summer winds could carry it away.

Using algae to nourish the land is an ancient Portuguese practice, nearly forgotten in the era of synthetic fertilizers. In Aveiro, whole fleets of moliceiros—graceful, flat-bottomed boats—once glided through the marshes gathering seaweed for the fields.

We sliced the bricata potatoes into delicate spirals, fried them until perfectly crisp, and sprinkled them with sea salt. They were, without question, the best potato chips we’ve ever had. You can try them too at Canalha, João Rodrigues’ wonderful restaurant in Lisbon, or at Alta, where the food is as delightful as the sea views. A plate of these golden chips is a summer vacation for the palate.

Dining at Ceia with Alex Atala

Dining at Ceia is always a singular experience, but even more so when shared with the legendary Brazilian chef Alex Atala, seated humbly among the guests as if he were a mere mortal.

Lisbon’s most elegant table was adorned with the bark of a cork tree, harvested on the thirtieth anniversary of its growth. Draped in moss, mushrooms, and delicate flowers, it set the stage for a menu designed by chef Renato Bonfim and inspired by Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights.

The meal began with a whisper—an ethereal broth of ginger and algae, offering no hint of the wonders to come. A bowl soon appeared, strewn with moss and topped with chopsticks decorated with flowers. Nestled beneath the blossoms was a sublime tartare of carabineiros, the crimson prawns of the Algarve. “I was trained as a Bocusian,” Atala said, referring to Paul Bocuse, the patriarch of nouvelle cuisine. “I expect the food to be on the plate, but here, the food is beyond the plate.” A joyful Blanc de Noirs from Bairrada, fittingly named Dinamite, kept us good company.

Then came Water: a delicious composition of tomato, coriander oil, and a sorbet of toasted bread and garlic. Kristin Liebold, the gracious maître d’, poured glasses of Tepache she had crafted herself—a lightly fermented pineapple elixir that brightened the palate.

Another delight soon followed: slices of savory garlic cheesecake, adorned with white blossoms, served with perfectly fried hake from the Azores. The fish was prepared in a traditional style:  marinated in milk, lemon, salt, and pepper, then delicately fried in tempura batter. 

Atala reflected on how his time in Italy had taught him the importance of simplicity and repetition in dishes like fried fish. “Every Sunday, the mother cooks for the family,” he said, “but when the nonna (grandmother) prepares the same dish, it becomes a feast. The ingredients don’t change—but the nonna brings a deeper understanding, born of repetition and a lifetime of attention to detail.”

An exquisite wine, whimsically called Viagem ao Princípio do Mundo (journey to the beginning of the world), filled our glasses. It is made with Alvarinho grapes grown in Melgaço and aged in sherry casks.

We were then invited into the garden, where, under flickering candlelight, oysters from Setúbal arrived dressed in spinach and algae, gently cooked in a Bulhão Pato style. Atala spoke about the importance of authenticity and of how this dish marries local ingredients and time-honored techniques with a sense of modernity.

Back in the dining room, the next course arrived: cordyceps mushrooms cleverly disguised as pasta. They were glazed in aged balsamic and served with a warm, buttery brioche, the perfect partner to their umami taste. A luminous white wine from António Madeira in the Dão lent the moment a festive air.

The final savory dish was a richly flavored wild boar terrine, served with oven-cooked rice and bread made from roasted quiabos (okra).

Dessert began with a leche de tigre jelly, adorned with nasturtiums and elderflower. Then came a mousse sculpted in the shape of Silent Living’s Herdade no Tempo, the estate that supplied much of the pristine produce featured throughout the meal. The mousse was encircled by an orchestra of cherries: fresh, roasted, and infused with lemon. 

A 2000 vintage Port crowned an unforgettable meal that Renato Bonfim and his youthful brigade cooked for Alex Atala, a philosopher-chef who sees food in its fullness: as ingredient and craft, as joy and communion.

Ceia is located at Campo de Santa Clara, 128. Lisbon. Click here for the restaurant’s website.

Drinking wines of the past with Virgílio Loureiro

Virgílio Loureiro is a renowned professor of enology and microbiology whose lectures inspired generations of students. A holder of several wine-related patents and the author of numerous scientific publications, he is also a masterful practitioner of the art he teaches. Virgílio champions unique wines crafted in small batches, often made from rare indigenous grape varieties on the brink of extinction. His deep knowledge of the wine’s biochemistry is matched by an equally profound passion for the history of wine. 

Though officially retired, Virgílio remains as active as ever. One of his most fascinating projects is the revival of winemaking traditions in the region once known as Banda d’Além, the “other side” of the Tagus River, just across from Lisbon.

In the 14th century, the region became famous for a sweet wine known as Bastardinho do Lavradio. Initially made as a passito from sun-dried grapes, it retained this style until the 18th century, when it began to be produced as a fortified wine. In both styles, the wine preserves its natural sweetness because the yeast dies before converting all the fructose into alcohol, due to the high sugar concentration in the passito and the addition of alcohol in the fortified version. Crafted from the Bastardo grape variety, Bastardinho do Lavradio was known in England as ‘Bastard wine,’ and admired for its remarkable balance of sweetness and acidity.

Viticulture thrived in Banda d’Além until the 19th century. The vineyards endured the oidium blight of the 1850s thanks to sulfur treatments and were protected from the ravages of phylloxera by their sandy soils. Yet industrialization proved more destructive than any pestilence: factories replaced vineyards, and the winemaking heritage slowly vanished into oblivion.

Virgílio believes that this forgotten region may be the birthplace of Port wine. In the Middle Ages, Franciscan monks produced here passito wines for sacramental use. By the 16th century, similar wines began to appear in the Douro Valley—likely influenced by these monastic practices. These early sweet wines, he suggests, were probably the first expressions of what we now know as Port wine.

In the last few years, Virgilio has been working with Teresa and Adelino Martins, owners of Quinta da Estalagem, one of the region’s last remaining farms. The estate is situated in a place of rare natural beauty and rich historical significance. It is near the Roman port of Aquabona on the Coina River, and not far from the shipyard where Paulo da Gama, brother of the famed navigator Vasco da Gama, built some of the ships used by Portugal during the Age of Discovery. Scattered through the region are vestiges of 15th-century ovens once used to bake hardtack, the hard biscuits consumed by sailors on their long sea voyages.

When we arrived at Quinta da Estalagem, Adelino was busy in the vineyard, harvesting grapes with a team of workers. Bastardo ripens early and must be picked before the birds help themselves to the fruit. Teresa and Virgílio joined us in the farm’s cellar for a wine tasting.

We began with Vinho do Pote, a vibrant white wine made from Fernão Pires, following Roman techniques dating back to the 5th century: the grapes were fermented in clay pots sealed with pitch and beeswax. Served in simple tavern glasses from Alentejo, the wine exudes a rustic elegance, with smoky notes, a textured palate, and bright acidity.

Next came Equabona, named for the ancient river route that once connected the Coina port to Mérida in modern Spain. Made from the same Fernão Pires grapes, this wine is delicately infused with fenugreek—an herb cherished by the Romans for both its flavor and medicinal properties. The result is an aromatic, amber-hued wine with notes of spice and a long, curried finish.

Our third tasting was a white wine gently scented with poejo (pennyroyal), which lends an herbal character reminiscent of a refined vermouth.

Then came a striking contrast: a white wine made using the curtimenta method of fermenting white grapes with their skins. The wine has a textured body and gentle tannins that lend both depth and character. This 17th-century technique is making a comeback — wines produced in this way are now popularly known as “orange wines.”

We then tasted a red made from Castelão, which pays tribute to the honest, everyday wine enjoyed across the region in the 20th century. It is light, fresh, and direct, with the grip of youthful tannin and the aromatic clarity of this hardy grape.

Finally, we tried the precious Bastardinho do Lavradio. Lost since the 1940s, this legendary wine has been resurrected through Virgílio’s tireless research and Adelino and Teresa’s steadfast dedication. It is a rare privilege to savor a stunning wine that history had almost forgotten.

Our visit to Quinta da Estalagem was far more than a wine tasting. It was a journey through centuries of winemaking, guided by one of Portugal’s most extraordinary wine scholars.

Click here for the Banda d’Além website. To schedule a visit, email adega@bandadalem.pt