Europe

The Art of Savoring Port Wine

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António Magalhães closed his lecture on the Douro’s grape varieties with a provocative question: “But who can hope to understand so many grapes without tasting Port?”

Port wine is the ultimate expression of the vineyards of the Douro Valley. As scholar Alfredo Guerra Tenreiro famously observed, “There is a uniqueness in the Douro climate that one can recognize and feel in the uniqueness of Port wine.” 

Here are António’s recommendations for enjoying Port wine at its best.

Five Golden Rules

1) Choose the proper glass
A classic white wine glass made of thin glass is ideal for Port. It lifts the aromas, focuses the flavors, and makes every sip a celebration.

2) Serve Port properly chilled
The ideal serving temperatures for each style of Port are:
• White Ports: 6–10 °C (43–50 °F)
• Tawnies: 10–12 °C (50–54 °F)
• Rubies: 12–16 °C (54–61 °F)

Once opened, White Ports and Tawnies should be stored in the refrigerator door. Ruby Ports, especially Vintage Ports, are best enjoyed soon after the cork is pulled. 

The British have a tradition of passing the Vintage Port bottle or decanter from right to left, keeping it in motion. If someone forgets, the other guests often ask, “Do you know the Bishop of Norwich?”—a nod to Henry Bathurst, the early-19th-century bishop known for dozing off at dinner and neglecting to pass the Port.

3) Keep a 20-Year-Old Tawny in the refrigerator
Tawnies are crafted from wines of various harvests, aged patiently in oak casks until the perfect moment for blending and bottling. A 20-year-old Tawny brings together wines with a weighted average age of twenty years, creating an alchemy of time and winemaking artistry. António’s longtime favorite is the magnificent Taylor’s 20-Year-Old Tawny Port.

4) Always decant Vintage and Crusted Ports
Vintage Ports are bottled without filtration, which allows them to continue evolving in the bottle. Over time, sediment naturally accumulates. Decanting separates the clear wine from this sediment—harmless, yet coarse and unwelcome in the glass. It also allows the wine to breathe, letting oxygen gently soften its structure and release its full array of aromas.

When Port was shipped in barrels, British merchants crafted Crusted Ports by blending more than one Vintage, aging the wines in large wooden vats, and bottling them unfiltered for cellaring. After Portugal banned bulk exports of Vintage Port in 1974 (extended to all Ports in 1997), this style became rare. Today, only a few houses, like Fonseca, continue the tradition. Like Vintage Ports, Crusted Ports develop a natural “crust” as they mature and should always be decanted before serving.

5) Port is to be shared
Port invites conversation and brings out sincerity. Violette Toussaint, the unforgettable protagonist of Valérie Perrin’s Fresh Water for Flowers, put it best: “My port wine has the same effect on everyone. It acts like a truth serum.”

How to Decant a Vintage or Crusted Port at Home

The day before serving, select the bottle you wish to open and stand it upright so the sediment can settle at the bottom. Leave it somewhere convenient—on a sideboard or on the kitchen counter.

Use a suitable corkscrew; a two-pronged cork puller is ideal for opening older bottles, whose corks are often fragile. Once opened, pour the wine slowly into a decanter or glass jug. 

Strain the wine through a small flannel filter to ensure perfect clarity. Take a moment to taste the wine and enjoy that first impression.

Rinse the bottle and let it drain completely. Return the decanted wine to the original bottle. Keep the bottle in a cool place and check the temperature before bringing it to the table. If needed, a brief rest, fifteen minutes or so, in the refrigerator door will bring it to the ideal 16–18 ºC, with the higher end recommended for older Ports.

Magical Pairings

White Port

White Port is typically enjoyed as an aperitif and is made in a range of styles, from extra-dry to sweet. Even the sweeter versions remain balanced and never feel cloying on the palate.

There are two production approaches: oxidative and non-oxidative. In the non-oxidative style, winemakers shield the wine from oxygen to preserve its vibrancy. These Ports are bright and citrusy, ideal for the popular Port Tonic cocktail.

In contrast, the oxidative school relies on controlled exposure to air. Depending on the winemaker’s approach, this exposure may begin during fermentation and continue throughout aging in wooden vessels ranging from small casks to larger vats such as toneis and balseiros. Over time, this gentle oxidation deepens the wine’s character, imparting a golden hue and nuanced layers of nuts, caramel, butterscotch, and dried fruits.

António favors the oxidative style. His preferred White Ports, both made from blends that include Malvasia Fina, are the Fonseca Guimaraes Siroco—crisp and extra-dry—and the Ramos Pinto Finest White Reserve, which offers a discreet, delicate sweetness.

White Port pairs beautifully with toasted almonds, especially those from the Douro Superior, and with codfish cakes. It also harmonizes with soft-ripened cheeses, lending a bright acidity that lifts their richness.

Tawny Port

Tawnies pair blissfully with sweet desserts. In the Douro Valley, they are often served with crème brûlée—torched before serving—or almond tart.  Egg pudding and Tawny Port are made for each other; tradition even calls for two glasses of Port instead of one: the first to honor the pudding, and the second to toast the cook who prepared it. 

Another indulgence that pairs perfectly with Tawny Port is Toucinho do Céu (bacon from heaven), a convent sweet made with almonds, egg yolks, sugar, and a touch of lard that lends a soft, velvety texture. Murça, near Vila Real, is renowned for the version created at the Santa Maria Monastery and now made by Casa das Queijadas e Toucinho do Céu. The town is also celebrated for the vineyards that surround it, which produce some of the Douro’s finest white grapes—coveted by both Port and DOC Douro winemakers.

Tawnies also shine alongside nuts, dried fruit, or simply on their own, paired only with the quiet luxury of time and good conversation. 

Ruby Port

Ruby Ports are excellent companions for cured cheeses. Portugal offers a rich array of these cheeses from regions such as the Estrela Mountain near Seia, Serpa in Alentejo, Azeitão near Lisbon, and São Jorge in the Azores.

English Port merchants traditionally pair Ruby Ports, particularly Vintage Ports, with Stilton cheese. Vintage Port is made only in exceptional years, aged in wood for one or two winters, and then bottled to mature slowly and majestically.

For an unforgettable experience, seek out the Vintage Vargellas Vinhas Velhas 2004, crafted in a superb year from a field blend of vines planted soon after phylloxera. António believes old vineyards like the one that produces this wine hold the key to understanding the future of viticulture in the Douro Valley.

Late Bottled Vintage (LBV)

António enjoys pairing LBVs (rubies aged four to six years in oak and then bottled), with chocolate mousse. His favorite mousse replaces butter with extra-virgin olive oil from the Douro Valley. He generously shares his recipe below.

Mousse de Perdição (Sinful Chocolate Mousse)

Ingredients
• 150 g dark chocolate (70% cocoa)
• 100 ml extra-virgin olive oil (preferably from the olive groves that frame Douro vineyards)
• 5 tablespoons sugar
• 4 eggs, with yolks and whites separated

Instructions

1. Melt the chocolate
Break the chocolate into small pieces and melt gently in a bain-marie or in short microwave intervals. Allow it to cool slightly.

2. Add the olive oil
Whisk in the olive oil until the mixture is smooth and glossy.

3. Prepare the yolks
Beat the egg yolks with the sugar until pale and creamy. Fold into the chocolate mixture.

4. Whip the egg whites
Beat the whites until firm peaks form, then gently fold them into the chocolate base, preserving as much lightness as possible.

5. Chill
Spoon into serving cups or a single bowl. Refrigerate for at least 3 hours, ideally overnight.

Enjoy with a perfectly chilled glass of LBV Port.

How Humans Made the Soil of the Douro Valley

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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

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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.

Monfortinho water

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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

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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.

Drinking wines of the past with Virgílio Loureiro

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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


Savoring pasteis de nata at Hotel do Bairro Alto

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In Lisbon, pastéis de nata inspire near-religious devotion. And with good reason–these delicate tarts, made of flaky layers of puff pastry and filled with a luscious cream of eggs and milk, offer a glimpse of heaven on earth.

Some Lisboetas are devoted to a neighborhood pastry shop that proudly displays the words Fabrico Próprio on its façade, signaling that its pastries are made in-house. But the city’s most revered pastry sanctuary is the Antiga Confeitaria de Belém, which has been drawing pilgrims since it first opened its doors in 1834.

Manteigaria is a more recent cult whose crisp, lemon-kissed tarts have earned a loyal following. Its original Chiado location has become a popular pastry shrine.

There is also Pastelaria Aloma, a bakery in Campo d’Ourique, which rose to fame after winning national competitions in 2012 and 2013.

Just when we thought we had tasted all the city’s holy pastries, we stumbled upon a new revelation, hidden in plain sight at the recently renovated Hotel do Bairro Alto. Its pastéis are extraordinary. The custard, radiant yellow and delicately scented, has just the right touch of sweetness. The crust is golden, crisp, and exquisitely flaky with seven layers that echo Lisbon’s seven hills.

When we asked the servers about the recipe’s ingredients, they nodded politely and walked away. But on the final morning, a waitress slipped us a handwritten note with the ingredients. The secret? The filling is made not with cream, but with milk and cornstarch, lending it an ethereal lightness. The crust’s sublime texture is achieved through a blend of butter and pork lard.

So here is an insider’s tip: if you find yourself near Chiado, step into the Hotel do Bairro Alto and take the elevator to the fifth floor. Settle into the serene terrace overlooking the Tagus River and order some pasteis de nata. As you sit there, savoring these sweet devotions, you’re likely to find yourself at peace.

Hotel do Bairro Alto, Praça Luís de Camões 2, Lisbon, tel. 213 408 288, email: reservations@bairroaltohotel.com. Click here for the hotel’s website.

Moscatel de Setúbal, a dessert in a glass

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We recently attended a Moscatel wine tasting led by enologist Frederico Vilar Gomes and fell in love with these remarkable dessert wines. Crafted in Setúbal, near Lisbon, by José Maria da Fonseca, they are made from Muscat of Alexandria—one of the oldest grape varietals still in cultivation. Enologists are unsure whether this ancient grape hails from Egypt or Greece. But its versatility is undisputed, producing both elegant table wines and rich dessert wines. 

Muscat vines offer generous yields and a remarkable genetic diversity that protects them against disease. The grapes are intensely aromatic, resistant to heat, and naturally rich in sugar. 

Like Port, Madeira, and Sherry, Moscatel (the Portuguese spelling of Muscatel) is a fortified wine. Brandy is added to halt fermentation before the yeast converts all the grape sugar into alcohol, preserving a lush natural sweetness.

The Moscatel made in Setúbal has been cherished for centuries for its remarkable aging potential. As it matures in oak casks, approximately 2 to 3 percent of the wine evaporates each year—a phenomenon whimsically known as the “angel’s share.” This gradual loss intensifies the wine, concentrating its sugar and acidity and deepening its character. 

José Maria da Fonseca, founded in 1834, is one of Portugal’s most famous wine producers. In 1849, it introduced Periquita, the first branded Portuguese red wine. Just a few years later, in 1855, it earned a gold medal at the Paris World Exposition for its Moscatel de Setúbal. Today, the company has over two million liters of Moscatel patiently waiting in barrels for their moment to shine.

In the 19th century, José Maria da Fonseca shipped barrels of Moscatel by sailboat to Brazil, India, and Africa. Occasionally, unsold barrels made their way back, and, to everyone’s surprise, the wine had improved. The heat and humidity of the sea voyage had accelerated the aging process, delivering in just one year the complexity that would have taken a decade to develop on land. Since 2000, the winery has revived this maritime tradition. Its “torna viagem” (roundtrip) Moscatel now sails aboard the Sagres, a majestic Portuguese Navy training ship, before being bottled as a coveted limited edition.

Unlike table wines, which are bottled in dark glass to protect them from light, Moscatel de Setúbal comes in clear bottles. Light exposure helps foster the oxidation that is key to its unique aging process.

We tasted three Moscatel wines from José Maria da Fonseca’s Alambre brand. The first was the  classic Alambre Moscatel: a liquid dessert with a vibrant orange hue and flavors of orange, honey, and caramel, seasoned with a hint of lemon zest.

Next, we tried a five-year-old Moscatel made from a rare regional mutation of Muscat—the purple muscat—a grape unique to Setúbal. The wine had a deeper hue and a complex profile: tangerine, apricot, lime, melon, honey, and caramel woven with exotic hints of incense, red pepper, and turmeric. 

Our tasting ended with the forty-year-old Alambre. It has a deep color and a taste infused with the distinct aroma of Brazilian oak. The aging process adds complexity to this extraordinary wine, enriching the caramel and honey notes with dried fruits, figs, cloves, and cinnamon flavors.

Whenever we crave an effortless dessert, we reach for a chilled bottle of Moscatel. As the legendary jazz singer Jon Hendricks once put it, “I can’t get well without muscatel.” We couldn’t agree more.

Eduardo Cardeal’s great challenge

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Eduardo Cardeal was born in Abaços, a small village in the Douro Valley, where he learned the art of winemaking from his grandfather. As a child, he absorbed the traditions without fully understanding them. His grandfather used to say that the wine wasn’t “cooked” until April. Years later, while studying enology in college, he realized this phrase referred to the malolactic fermentation, the natural process through which lactic acid bacteria transform tart malic acid into softer lactic acid, reducing acidity, enhancing texture, and adding complexity to the wine.

We first met Eduardo in 2019, when he was the head enologist at Herdade da Calada. His life had been marked by tragedy—his wife had passed away, and he found himself raising their three young daughters alone. Seeking a fresh start, he returned to his roots in the Douro Valley and purchased Quinta da Peónia, a historic one-hectare vineyard planted in 1930. It is an estate with a human scale, allowing Eduardo, with the help of his daughters, to handle every step of production—from grafting vines to foot-treading grapes and bottling the wines.

He named this deeply personal project Grande Desafio, meaning “great challenge.” His goal is to create the ultimate handcrafted wines. In 2023, after years of dedication, Eduardo bottled his first vintage—5,000 precious bottles.

Perched on a plateau 550 meters above sea level, Quinta da Peónia is blessed with schist and clay soils. Unlike the famed, fast-draining schist of Foz Côa, Peónia’s porous schist retains water through the winter, naturally sustaining the vines during the dry summer months without irrigation. The altitude brings freshness, while the old vines add remarkable depth and complexity.

Eduardo’s winemaking philosophy focuses on low alcohol and minimal extraction, resulting in light, elegant wines that dance on the palate with remarkable finesse. These wines are rare finds—if you come across a bottle, take it home and treasure it.

Click here for the Grande Desafio website.

Miss Can

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When we were young, we spent our summer vacations camping by the sea. We packed cans of berbigão- small, flavorful cockles- and used them to make rice dishes that tasted divine after a swim in the ocean.

Over the years, canned berbigão nearly vanished from store shelves. Fortunately, Miss Can has brought it back, along with various other delicacies. In addition to classics like sardines and tuna, their selection includes razor clams, squid, mussels, octopus, and more.

The brand’s origins date back to 1911, when Alberto Soares Ribeiro established two canning plants—one in Setúbal, near Lisbon, and another in Olhão, Algarve. Like many others, these plants closed their doors during the years of economic turmoil that followed the 1974 revolution. Almost a century later, Alberto’s great-grandson, Tiago Soares Ribeiro, brought the family’s canning legacy back to life. Together with his relatives, Tiago launched Miss Can, a brand dedicated to high-quality, artisanal canned fish.

The rebirth began in 2013 when Tiago started producing small batches of canned fish and selling them from a yellow Piaggio motorcycle in Lisbon’s St. Jorge Castle neighborhood. In 2015, Miss Can received two prestigious awards, enabling Tiago to open a charming eatery near St. Jorge’s Castle, where visitors can experience the exceptional quality of his products.

All the fish, except cod, are sourced from the Portuguese coast. The canning process follows the same traditional method used a century ago. The fish are gently steamed to preserve their texture and natural flavor.

With Miss Can, we can effortlessly create a delicious salad, a rich pasta, or a comforting rice dish that brings back the taste of our carefree vacations by the sea.

You can sample Miss Can’s products at Largo do Contador Mor, 17 Castelo in Lisbon. Miss Can is available in the U.S. at World Market stores. Click here for Miss Can’s website.