Is Octopus the New Squid?

On No Reservations this week, Tony traveled to Lisbon, where Cooper and I spent the last three days of our honeymoon (mostly napping, actually, though it's a very pretty city with good food).

Since I've been to Portugal and am roughly familiar with Portuguese history, as well as with the current European economic crisis and all the drama that goes with the Euro, the episode didn't hold too many surprises for me. One scene, though, got me thinking.

Tony and his handlers are out on a boat, fishing for octopus. In standard No Reservations fashion, they don't catch much (though they end up with one or two octopi of decent size). They take the octopus home, simmer it gently before throwing it on the grill, and eat one of my favorite meals: fresh grilled octopus.

I watched the episode with Dixon, whose little nose scrunched up at the prospect of eating something with suction cups. He'll learn. I wonder, though...is everyone else catching on quickly, too?

Earlier in the episode, Bourdain and company had a quick conversation about changes fish-eating trends. The basic gist was this: today's trash fish is tomorrow's trendy dinner. This is true - and as mentioned on the show, squid's rise in popularity is a great example of the potential trajectory.

A generation or so ago, squid was trash fish - eaten, but more out of necessity than by choice. Today, it's on every menu from here to TGI Fridays. Actually, let me take that back. These days, restaurants with even the slightest edge shy away from including something as pedestrian as calamari on their menus.

So what's the new calamari? Could it be octopus? It's certainly showing up on a few more menus than it used to (I'd know - Cooper and I order it every time we see it) and it's even available at my local Italian butcher. But it hasn't yet reached Applebee's levels. Not even close.

But it could be the next calamari. In a year or five, octopus apps could be on every menu in the country. Yes, everybody would have to get over eating suction cups. But that's possible. We Americans, we're a resilient people.

So it could happen, but I hope it doesn't. For one thing, I love octopus and I don't want to see a) the prices go up, b) the quality decline or c) octopus to end up overfished - and if it gains popularity, at least one of those things is likely, if not all three. Just look at what happened to tuna.

Plus, octopus is notoriously difficult to cook. That's actually something I like about it - you can tell so much about the skill and patience of a chef by how he treats his octopus. A few weeks ago, when we reviewed 1542 Gastropub, Cooper and I knew that Chef Cyrus Keefer was the real deal after one bite of his octopus pizza (try it - the octopus is crazy tender). Good chefs do right by octopus, but can a line cook? Someone who's churning out app after Jack Daniels-sauced app?

I'm not taking anything away from those cooks - they do a job I couldn't do. But their job is go-go-go and octopus is slowwwwww.

So, back to my original question: Is octopus the new squid? It could be. But let's hope not.

Trendy Monday: Portugal

Who's seen the new J.Crew catalog? It arrived here on Saturday. I am completely taken with all of the ruffly t-shirts (which make it possible for grown women to dress like 3-year olds every day, and which make the way I already dress cool). But you know what else I loved about it? It was shot in Lisbon!

Six years ago, right about this time of year, Cooper and I were still struggling to figure out where we'd go on our honeymoon. We had two "rules" - we should go someplace neither of us had been before, and we couldn't go anywhere too far away because we needed to be at ou friends CJ and Amy's wedding in Wisconsin exactly two weeks after our wedding date.

Those two rules eliminated an awful lot of places. Nothing on the other side of the world, for one, because we didn't want to spend the majority of our trip on a plane. We'd both been to England and Scotland. I'd also been to Canada, Mexico, France, and Stockholm. Cooper had been to Ireland, Costa Rica, Spain, Australia and New Zealand (which were out anyway), and the Netherlands. We didn't really want to go to a beach - we needed a place where we could relax if we wanted, but where there were things to do so we wouldn't get bored.

It was a difficult decision - until we thought of Portugal.

We'd already sort of settled on Europe (though if we had it to do over again, we might hit South America). Neither one of us had ever been to Portugal, and we got the impression that it wouldn't be filled with Americans at every turn, so it would actually feel foreign.

The market in Oporto. I love places where there are live chickens.

We were lucky, too - my friend DC Jason is of Portuguese descent and he and a couple of guys we went to high school with lived in Portugual for a while after college. He introduced me to a Portuguese friend of his, who gave us some great advice about what to see and where to go. We followed it and as a result, we spent one amazing night at the strangest, most fun saint's festival imaginable (picture the entire city of Oporto tapping each other on the heads with either long stalks of flowering garlic or plastic squeaky hammers):

The calm before the storm of hammer/garlic-tapping in Oporto. We sat in a cafe and watched the light change over that church for, oh, three or four hours that day.

Our trip also happened to coincide with the Euro 2004 - a Europe-wide soccer tournament that takes place every four years. In 2004, the games took place in Oporto and Lisbon, so we were treated to a whole lot of national pride (and a lot of Swedish and Danish drinking songs):

The view down to the water in Oporto on a gameday. That sea of red? Those are the Danes. They were, as a whole, very friendly and jovial and not at all hooliganish.

Overall, we loved Oporto. How could we not: A church outside Oporto, seen from a boat cruise on the Douro River.

We started our trip with a few days in Oporto, then rented a car and traveled around for a few days, with no plans except to get to Lisbon by a set date. Our next stop, also on the advice of Jason's friend, was a tiny fishing and beach village called Nazare:

The view from our hotel room in Nazare. We watched Portugal beat England on that screen later that night. I wrote about that here. The beach in Nazare, where the fisherman dry cod for salting.

After a few fantastic days in Nazare, we drove through Obidos, a small town that has been restored to its Renaissance glory: The entrance to Obidos

After a few hours, we'd seen all we were going to see in Obidos, so we drove on to Sintra, another historic town. It's just outside Lisbon, but has a decidedly small-town, historic feel: The hotel where we stayed in Sintra. No reservations or anything, and it was about $100 a night. Our room was enormous, with a gorgeous view of the lap pool on the side of the building.

After a day of walking the town, a nice dinner, we hit our second saint's festival in a week. The next morning, we left our pretty hotel behind and returned our rental car at the Lisbon airport. Our final three days were spent strolling around Lisbon and taking a lot of naps:The view from the castle that presides over Lisbon. Unlike the J.Crew editors, we did not scale the steps. We thought about it, but honestly, we were just too tired by then. So we took a cab. It was a good call.

Overall, it was a fantastic trip. Full of good food, too - especially the mariscala in Nazare and anything we ate at a churrascuria. I will never tire of grilled meat.

And yes, I know I wrote about this last summer, just after our fifth anniversary. Can't help it. I like to reminisce. Plus, today it's trendy.

Five Years Ago Today

I was leaving here:

And heading here:

From two nights in Nazare (and one big Portugal win over England, watched on a big screen in the town square), to one night in a beautiful pousada in Sintra.

In Nazare, we ate tons and tons of seafood, including an amazing seafood stew in a creamy, spicy tomato broth. In Sintra, before heading to a saint's festival that showcased the cheesiest rapper and outfits and carnival prizes (giant gold pirate ship? Yes, please!) available in Portugal, we found a quiet restaurant just outside the village where I had lamb in a ridiculously rich sauce. One of my favorite things about Portugal was the mix of cuisine. While it's not exactly heaven for vegetarians, the Portuguese are experts with both the seafood and all different types of meat (especially pig).

Makes me wish it was standard procedure to take a honeymoon every year.

Food Flashback: Nazare, Portugal

salt cod
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

(Warning: this is a super long post. It's also first in what I think will be a series of posts about great meals I've had.)

We had a hard time deciding where to go on our honeymoon. The night Cooper put the ring on my finger, we started planning, trying to narrow down our choices. The world is a big place and we both love to travel, though our travel styles are vastly different. Cooper would be happy with a backpack and hostels. I hate to think of myself as high maintenance, but I appreciate the benefits of a private room and bathroom.

We could agree, though, that we should try to go somewhere neither of us had ever been – that eliminated tons of cool places like Spain, Costa Rica and Australia and New Zealand. A friend’s wedding – this one in Wisconsin – two weeks after ours gave us a time limit. We didn’t want to spend too much of that time on a plane – that eliminated Thailand and anyplace in its immediate vicinity. And we didn’t want to go to an island. Most of our friends spent their honeymoons in the Caribbean. Every one of them had a great time. But it just wasn’t right for us.

About six months before the wedding, we were down to the wire. We needed to settle on a place so we could start making our “real” plans. Plane tickets and hotel rooms. Our indecision was starting to leave us frantic – neither one of us wanted to end up celebrating our marriage with nothing more than a long weekend somewhere close. Just as we were heading to a sad honeymoon by default, I happened to read an article in Food & Wine about African restaurants in Lisbon.

Thumbing through the magazine one night, with one eye on the TV and without really reading, photos of Lisbon and the Portuguese beach caught my eye. “What about Portugal?” I asked Cooper, sort of nonchalantly (at this point, every potential spot was considered nonchalantly – after deciding against ¾ of the world, neither one of us wanted to get too attached to any particular place, in case the other vetoed it.)

Just as laid back, Cooper considered the idea for all of three seconds then nodded his head. “Portugal sounds good.” So Portugal it was. We kicked into high planning gear.

We’d fly in and out of Lisbon, but travel during our time in the country. We thought we’d find a hotel in Porto for the first few days of our trip and a place in Lisbon for the last few days, but leave the days in between open, booking a rental car for the three days in between cities. This was a great compromise. I’m all about the itinerary – the more lists, the happier I am. And Cooper is exactly the opposite. He’d be happy sleeping on park benches if we needed to.

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That’s how we found ourselves, four days into our honeymoon, driving tiny, windy roads around a mountain, into the beach and fishing village of Nazare. Right on the Atlantic, Nazare is a tiny town full of black-clad widows, boards of salting cod and, at times, pilgrims walking on their knees to the shrine to the Virgin Mary housed on the jagged cliff that looms over the town. When we arrived, at the end of June, the weather was sunny and perfect, but tourist season hadn’t yet blasted into high gear. The town was nearly empty, and absolutely perfect.

As it happened, our honeymoon coincided with the Euro 2004, a Europe-wide soccer (sorry, football) tournament taking place in Porto and Lisbon. The big cities were packed with uber-nationalistic soccer hooligans, all of whom we found very friendly and as highly, um, spirited as advertised.


swedes and danes in porto
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

Nazare boasted its faire share of soccer tourists, too, all dressed in their team colors, but without the face paint and crazy headwear that was de rigeur in Porto. The town was full of Danes and Dutch, but all were relatively calm, as their teams weren’t playing the night we arrived. No, the night we arrived, the big game was between Portugal and England.

I don’t think there’s any American equivalent to the brand of pure, almost sweet nationalistic passion the Euro 2004 inspires. As soon as we set foot in this tiny town, normally a laid-back beach resort, we could feel the energy bubbling. Upon arrival, we checked into the Hotel Mare, a nice, but inexpensive, hotel on the main square. From our balcony, we could see both the beach and the big screen on which the entire town and its tourists would watch that evening’s game.


view from hotel mare
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

We made quick work of exploring Nazare, napping on the beach (with my orange bathing suit, I’m sure everyone thought I was Dutch), then walking around the little square and up and down the main strip, which ran from cliff to cliff along the beach.


cliff in nazare
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

Around 7, we were starting to get very hungry, having only eaten pastries (delicious though they were) and a small snack all day. Making our way down a little alley, just next to the main square, we happened upon a trio of restaurants.

The restaurateurs were obviously friendly competitors – we watched a woman run from one kitchen to the other, carrying a bag of dry ingredients. Each had a small outside eating area, as well as tables inside, surrounded by charming, old-school Portuguese decor. Lots of blue and white pottery and pretty linens. Everything was perfect, perfect, perfect. Now, all we had to do was decide where to eat.

Possibly our greatest weakness as a couple is in making decisions about where to eat. This time proved especially difficult as all three restaurants looked just about identical. None were very busy – it was early and the game would be on soon, keeping tourists in the square. All smelled great.

Finally, after a bunch of hemming and hawing that probably looked ridiculous, we chose a spot and settled in. Unfortunately, this was before I was in the habit of photographing everything and everyplace I ate, so I don’t have any pictures. But I do have great memories.

We sat outside and, on the recommendation of Paolo, our friend from the hotel, ordered the local dish arroz con maricela for two (the linked recipe might be right-ish). Fortunately, I was wearing a black shirt…though I ended up with a napkin tucked in like a bib anyway. Arroz con maricela is sort of like a paella – it appeared on the table as a huge bowl of rice with small clams, crabs and lobster in a spicy red broth – rich with flavor and exactly what we’d hoped it would be. And so fresh. We even got mallets for the crab (it was just the inside part of the crab where the backfin is – but still with the cartilage). We couldn’t help but think it was a good thing we’re from Maryland, so we knew what to do with the mallets.

We took our time with our dinner, trying to eavesdrop on the Germans at the next table (unsuccessfully, as we don’t speak German) and drinking a good bottle of white wine. We ate for an hour, but ass much as we wanted to finish our dinner, there was no way. There was just too much.

As we ate, the game started and as we watched the TV at the restaurant, we listened to the cheers from the square. As soccer-ignorant as we are, we knew this was a big one: we saw Beckham on the screen. Even I know what Becks means. Over the next hour, the sun went down and the people of Nazare got increasingly excited. Every time Portugal scored (twice total), crazed, flag-waving fans ran through the streets and through our alley. We could hear the crowd in the square roaring, especially as it got later.

When we finished our wine and gave up on our dinner, we ordered coffee and settled in for the rest of the game. A few French teenagers came in behind us and sat down to order. They didn’t seem to care about the game like we did. At this point, it was a nail biter. At the end of the second half, Portugal and England were tied 2-2. That means shootout! It couldn’t get much more exciting.

We finished our coffee and ordered a few beers. It started to rain, so we moved closer to the inside, under an awning, but we weren’t about to leave. The crowd was just as excited in the square – they weren’t upset by the rain at all.

Beckham kicked first in the shootout. This could go either way. Clearly England wants to psyche out the Portuguese players by putting their powerhouse up front. He shoots…

And he chokes – completely. His shot is totally off. Huge psychological victory for the Portuguese – we could hear the whole town shaking with cheers. After Beckham’s blunder (which I’ve since read about in international papers), the shootout ended in a tie and went to sudden death. Which the Portuguese won. To say the crowd went crazy would be an understatement. The cheers must have been audible for miles around.

As soon as the game was over, we paid our tab and hauled ourselves to the square as quickly as our overstuffed bodies would allow. We spent the next few hours drinking Super Bocks and celebrating with the people of Nazare, explaining over and over again that we were American, not English, so we were thrilled by the victory. A Portuguese singer took over the stage in front of the big screen and began to sing songs about Portugal. Somehow, we joined in, though our Portuguese leaves a lot to be desired.

We ended the night on the balcony of our hotel room, drinking a bottle of wine and, somehow, eating more pastries. And watching, just watching, the festivities below. Even the few British tourists we’d met that night couldn’t remain immune to the sheer, unadulterated joy of the people of Nazare.

That night, exhausted, stuffed and tipsy, listening to the cheers below, we talked about buying a place in Nazare. That didn’t materialize, of course, and wouldn’t really be terribly practical (who needs a transatlantic flight to go to the beach?) But if you’d asked me that night, I’d have told you that I could’ve stayed in Nazare, eating seafood and watching football, forever.

Reliving the Memories...Sort Of

Cooper and I went to Portugal for our honeymoon. Ten days of traveling, eating, and drinking a lot of very cheap, very bad red wine (after the first three days, I learned that "house red" and Portugal don't mix. And, actually, there are some perfectly decent, very cheap Portuguese reds. I'm still scarred, though.)

We were on the coast (between Oporto and Lisbon), so we ate a ton of seafood. Portugal is also known for their grilling, though, so we were never deprived of the red type of meat. Overall, we experienced a surprising variety of flavors and ingredients, especially considering that we only saw a small portion of an already small country.

When we returned home, I went through a bit of Portugal withdrawal and did my best to find the things I loved most about the country, so I could keep enjoying them here at home. I bought vinho verde, the lightly sparkling wine. I spent hours online trying to learn about some of the saints' festivals we attended, so we could carry on the traditions here. And I started cooking everything in Port.

So, naturally, when my mother-in-law saw an ad for a cooking instruction/lunch focused on the food of Portugal, she signed us right up. The class was at a house in Ruxton, not far at all from where she and I live. On the day of, we drove over together, along with one of her sisters-in-law and her daughter-in-law (look at all the bonding!), very excited both for the instruction and the food.

Unfortunately, the instruction itself didn't exactly live up to our expectations. Basically, we stood with about six other women and watched the "teacher" cook for us. On the positive side, the instructor did have a beautiful house, and an amazing kitchen, so we spent about an hour admiring our surroundings. And waiting, hungrily, for lunch.

And lunch...well, lunch disappointed a bit, too. For one thing, it wasn't exactly authentic Portuguese food. Instead, it was a bunch of foods that seemed mildly Portuguese. Or French. Continental, anyway. The main course was lamb chops in a Port and cream sauce...and it was horrendously overcooked.

The day did have it's bright spots, though. The conversation was enjoyable, and I got to drink two glasses of wine with lunch (California, not exactly the Duoro Valley). Always a good day when I can drink with lunch. Plus, we were all given a copy of the recipes, so we could try them at home.

While I've never made any of the side dishes, I have made the lamb on several occasions - it's super easy and much better when it hasn't been cooked to death. The other night, I was in the mood for something unhealthy, so I picked up a few lamb chops and some heavy cream and went for it.

Here's the recipe...just don't overcook!

Ingredients:
12 loin lamb chops, each about 1 1/4 inches thick (2 chops per person/I get mine from Trader Joe's, they're very good)
2 tbs olive oil
1 cup dry Port
3 tbs dijon mustard
1 cup heavy cream

Sprinkle the lamb chops with salt and pepper. In a large, heavy frying pan over medium-high heat, warm the olive oil and add the chops and cook, turning once, until well seared and cooked to desired done-ness, about 10 minutes for rare and 14 minutes for medium rare (I always undercook...unfortunately...and am worthless when it comes to guessing how done lamb is. But I'm getting there.)


lamb
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

Transfer the cooked chops to a platter and remove the pan from the heat. Add the port and deglaze the pan, stirring to dislodge any browned bits - you really want them in there. Return the pan to medium heat and simmer the Port for a minute to burn off the alcohol.

Whisk in the mustard and cream and simmer until thickened, about five minutes. The sauce will take on a sweet and mustardy aroma and will be thick and a pretty pink. Dusty rose, really. Kind of a weird color for sauce, but don't worry. Just add some salt and pepper.

Return the chops to the pan and swirl them in the sauce till they're coated:


lamb in sauce
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

And then you're done! As Barefood would say, "How easy is that?" It really is. Plate the chops, spooning the sauce over top.

I served the lamb with sauteed haricots verts and (lumpy) horseradish mashed potatoes:


lamb on plate
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

I think the spiciness of the horseradish complements the mustard - together they make sure the cream and Port sauce don't get too heavy or overwhelmingly sweet.

I just made this last week, but for some reason I already can't remember what we drank with it. It's not Portuguese, but I think it would work well with a Pinot Noir, though...not a super fruity one, but something that's sort of light and delicate. To bring out the flavor of the lamb.

Bom Appetit!