The carte

Written at dawn, read by the whole table.

Prices are in euros, and the lines below shift with the weather and the morning catch. Tell us what you love and what you cannot eat, and we will compose the evening around it.

The Tide Menu

One long poem of the coast, written each morning and read to the whole table.

Salt cod, milk and bay

Cured bacalhau softened in warm milk, a leaf of bay, a thread of green olive oil from the south.

Crab of the estuary

River crab dressed in its own coral, lemon verbena, and toasted broa crumb for the weight of the land.

Cuttlefish in its blue

Cuttlefish cooked slow in its ink, set against a cool herb cream the colour of the painted walls.

Red mullet, tile and ember

Mullet grilled over vine charcoal, finished with a glaze of burnt orange and a dust of dried tomato.

Suckling pig of the hills

Slow pork from the serra, crackling lacquered in pepper wine, with a spoon of bitter greens.

Sheep cheese and pumpkin jam

Cured Azeitao cheese run soft, set beside a dark jam of late pumpkin and clove.

Burnt custard of the convent

An egg custard taken to the edge of caramel, a memory of the old convent kitchens of the city.

By the Hour

A shorter path for those who arrive with the light, chosen plate by plate.

Olives, three cures

Green olives of the Alentejo cured in orange, in herbs, and in coastal brine.

Bread, butter, sea salt

Warm corn broa and wheat sourdough, churned butter, and flaked salt raked from the river pans.

Clams, coriander, white wine

Clams opened in vinho verde and a storm of coriander, the broth meant for the bread.

Octopus, paprika, potato

Octopus grilled until its edges char, smoked paprika oil, and a crushed potato of the islands.

Lamb, mint, broad beans

Spring lamb from the plains, fresh mint, and the first broad beans split from their pods.

Almond and fig tart

A thin tart of toasted almond and black fig, a thread of honey from the cork forests.

The Cellar

Wines of the coast and the granite hills, by the glass, the bottle, or a flight that follows the menu.

Vinho verde, by the glass

Young, faintly green, with the spritz of the northern rivers and a finish of cut apple.

Bairrada white, aged on lees

A still, mineral white kept on its lees through the winter, built for salt and smoke.

Douro red, old vines

Field blend from terraced schist, dark fruit and a dry warmth like sun on stone.

Tawny port, twenty years

A slow tawny of figs and walnut, poured small to close the long table.

Moscatel of the river mouth

Amber and unhurried, orange peel and honeycomb, for the custard and the fig.

The menu is decided with the light. Let us cook the day for you.

Reserve a table