A quiet Sunday with friends, food and wine

It has been a quiet day today for the most part.  At Lunchtime, João and his wife came over and we enjoyed an extraordinary barbecued lunch.  Silverio cooked some beautifully seasoned pork chops over an open fire.  On the fire in the summer kitchen, Lourdes cooked some small new potatoes to create patates mourden. , which literally means punched potatoes.  This is because the potatoes when cooked are then hit to burst them open.  They are then laid in a dish and layered with fresh diced onions, garlic, parsley, salt and pepper and then sprinkled with red wine vinegar and beautiful fresh olive oil.  We also had fresh beans from the garden that were also dressed with red wine vinegar and olive oil.  It was an amazing dinner. Becky was not feeling very well, and so she skipped this fantatic meal.  João and Lourdes were very worried about her,  and so João prescribed that she needed green tea.  Lourdes made he a special green tea from the tea that grows in her garden, with zest from a lemon which also came from the garden.

After lunch, the festival began at the parish of São Tome across the street.  This is a feast that is held each year to celebrate the immigrants that come to Portugal and enrich the culture.  Brazilian dancers came to add their gifts, and traditional Portuguese music and dancing followed with the whole village joining in the fun.  When my friend João arrived, he insisted that Silverio’s Vinho Verde was not good enough and so he insisted that I follow him to the café across the block where he could get me a glass of his favourite. 

Upon our return,  it was time to head out for dinner.   My wife and I, Silverio and Lourdes, João and Maria, and David headed to a local restaurant for some very traditional dishes.  David is another neighbour, who moved here to live with his daughter.  Shortly after he arrived, she converted to the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and when he refused to join the Jehovah’s Witnesses with her,  she kicked him out on the street.  He is another good friend of Silverio and João, and so they try to make certain that he is all right. 

For dinner, I thoroughly enjoyed a dish of lamb and potatoes.  Becky and the other ladies had stone soup – which is very similar to Feijuada, and João, Silverio, and David had a dish made from white beans and a cow’s stomach.

As dinner began to wrap up, the men at our table began to sing a bunch of traditional Portuguese folk songs.  It wasn’t long before people throughout the restaurant had stopped what they were doing and were singing along.  We paid our tab eventually and headed for home, but as Becky and I were commenting on hwo incredibly full we were, Silverio said, we are going back to our house to eat shrimp and to sing more songs.

When we arrived to the house, the festival was still going on,  so the guys went to do a little dancing,  which gave Becky and I a chance for a few minutes, to recover from the huge meal before everyone came round and the food and the wine came out again.  It was a joyful evening with song and laughter.

What I will remember most about the time in this home in Mira is that there was always a lot of fun, food, wine and fellowship.