Down the Portuguese Wine Rabbit Hole
Visiting Lisbon's new wave of bars and restaurants rekindled my love affair with Portugal's obscure grapes.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcd8b5037-b0a2-48db-9e1b-7c3145f0ef89_3024x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4112fd84-74fb-4119-9559-9c8595682cb8_3024x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc2db5980-6ddb-48db-9ca6-ea3d2c182345_3024x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F14fe83af-bb4e-4c50-bb43-0bad6ac6b65c_3024x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7175710-3ed1-4033-abf5-a2e141196816_2236x2236.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fefac03d1-780c-4806-8095-7d4fb61bd31b_3024x3024.jpeg)
Last week, I wrote about the old-time, traditional Lisbon—the Lisbon of ginginha bars, azulejo tiles, creaky trams, and classic tascas like Zé da Mouraria, where you eat a huge platter of bacalhau washed down with vinho verde at long tables lined with white paper, under posters of fado queen Amália Rodrigues. But to only talk about that Lisbon is to neglect the city’s new generation of bars and restaurants, as well as the exciting new wave of Portuguese wines. The influx of tourists to Lisbon has certainly brought numerous problems, but it’s also brought some nice things.
Perhaps the best place to see Lisbon’s new wave is a six-minute walk from Zé da Mouraria into a relatively gentrified strip of the Mouraria neighborhood. My choice for first stop of the evening would be Quattro Teste, one of the best cocktail bars I’ve visited anywhere in the last year. Run by Alf del Portillo, from Spain’s Basque Country, and Marta Premoli, from Lombardia, Italy, at Quattro Teste you can start with shot of cider straight from the barrel, Basque style. Then move on to Alf’s take on the low-brow classic kalimotxo, red wine and Coke with a healthy pour of Amaro Lucano and a splash of Branca Menta. Around here, we absolutely love a kalimotxo, and this rendition is a revelation. [Recipe: 35 ml Rioja crianza; 25 ml Amaro Lucano; 10 ml raspberry syrup; barspoon of Branca Menta; top with 100 ml of Coke]
A few doors down from Quattro Teste is Tasca Baldracca, a fun, Instagrammable sort of Lisbon-tasca-meets-natty-wine-bar with a menu that mixes Portuguese specialities (blood sausage, codfish cakes, suckling pig) and international fare (veal cheeks, grilled octopus, beet salad, “surf and turf” hot dog). “Take a photo of the chalkboard because that’s your menu,” says the guy who seats you. Among the graffiti the wall it reads, in English: “Fine Dining is Dead.” That’s a message that certainly resonates—we talked about it in January. Tasca Baldracca makes a good case for what comes next.
So does Bistro Bichomau, in Campo de Ourique, another of Lisbon’s gentrifying neighborhoods. Bistro Bichomau has a bit more inventive, surprising menu. We ate smoked whitefish (served with billowing smoke at the table) sprinkled with São Jorge cheese and pickles, sea urchin roe with violet prawn mayonnaise, oyster and whitefish tartar with a lemon sauce, and a plate of exquisite, thinly-sliced headcheese (yes, I am calling the headcheese exquisite).
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1b3d7260-669a-466e-a937-004ac2e7d4f5_3024x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa842f515-5081-435c-86c0-a35bbcb6bd76_843x902.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa138227d-a4c3-4040-ade6-e751f58ebd76_3024x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc561d4c9-c972-4753-a5a1-949a8c3b97c3_3024x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F96216b2c-79f7-4aab-9eb9-389678bfda0b_3024x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fbd3f5162-bd4f-4ec7-b949-f1b2a8955747_3024x3024.jpeg)
Before dinner at Bistro Bichomau, I visited Cave da Estrela, a wonderful, closet-sized wine shop in Campo de Ourique, for a tasting. Well, tasting may be too formal a term. I already knew Cave de Estrela’s owner, João Xavier, from social media, so I guess it was more like a little party. João opened three great wines: Marinho Vinhos 'Bro,' a fresh, cool red from Lisbon made from the castelão grape; Esboçopódio, a delicious, mineral white made with verdelho from the Azores; and finally, a ramisco from Collares, one of my all-time favorites.
Collares is an area near Lisbon consisting of a precious few dozen vineyard acres perched on cliffs above the Atlantic Ocean. It’s one of the world’s oldest wine regions, with some of the remaining pre-phylloxera vines in Europe. Ramisco is a little-known grape called that is particularly tannic and acidic, and requires long aging. Though it once was known as “the Bordeaux of Portugal,” Collares’ vineyards are now in danger of being snatched up by real estate developers eager to build beachfront homes. Without care, Collares could cease to exist as a wine region.
So, to recap, Collares represents pretty much everything a modern wine geek seeks out and loves: obscure grape and region; good back story; serious tannins and acidity; a wine that’s almost extinct.
But the exploration of little-known Portuguese grapes didn’t stop there. At the fantastic Novo Wine Bar in Chiado, I tasted a bunch of wines with owner Pedro Caixado. Pedro also made some amazing snacks, including the most delicious swordfish carpaccio imaginable and paper-thin slices of lardo so oily and translucent you could read through it.
Pedro jumped right into the deep end of rare grapes, opening whites made from grapes such as jampal, síria, and viosinho—reader, raise your hand in the comments if you know any theses.
“The problem with Portugal is we have so many grapes and change the name from region to region,” Pedro said. He’s not kidding. Tempranillo can be called tinta roriz or aragonez, depending on whether you’re in the Douro or the Alentejo. What’s called mencía elsewhere in the Iberian peninsula is called jaen here. Trousseau is known as bastardo in Dão.
Everything he poured was fantastic, but two wines stood out for as most memorable. First was Manz Dona Fátima Jampal 2017. Not long ago, jampal was an almost extinct grape. “But the owner of this winery is a rich guy who has plenty of money to save this grape,” Pedro told me. In researching Godforsaken Grapes, I had a chance to sip an half-ounce of jampal at a tasting, but had always wanted to try more. This one had everything: ripe, layered, complex, mineral, juicy with grilled pineapple and sherry-like notes with a super long finish.
Next was the Cabrita Negra Mole 2020, from the Algarve along Portugal’s southern coast, from pre-phylloxera vines. Pedro called Negra Mole “the oldest red grape in Portugal, likely dating to 200 B.C.” (It can also be found in the Canary Islands as negramoll). This negra mole was so drinkable and perfect that it belongs in the pantheon of light reds, a seamless example of what our Year of Light Reds is all about.
It’s been a few years since I’ve really geeked out on a “rare and obscure” grape binge. But after my long weekend in Lisbon, I’m obsessed and ready to delve deeper into Portugal’s vast array of little-know varieties. I have a lot to learn. So I’m putting out a call to anyone among my readership who makes, imports, sells, or is simply an enthusiast of Portuguese wines: Please reach out with tips, leads, and advice on what to taste.
Brancos
Quinta da Confeiteira ‘Oxalá' Calcario Reserva 2020
Oxalá means “I hope so”—I really hope to find this white more widely in the U.S. A field blend of arinto, antão vaz, and roupeiro, it’s flinty, smokey, with rich, ripe fruit. Imported by Nossa Imports.
D. Graça Viosinho Douro Reserva 2021
Viosinho is a new-to-me white grape, and this is a thrilling wine full of tension—chewy, pithy, salty, balanced by aromas and flavors of gorgeous ripe stone fruit.
Quinta da Biaia 750 Síria 2020
I loved this from an organic estate in Beira Interior, made from the síria grape. It’s subtle and muscadet-like, more about texture and minerality with the fruit taking a step back. I want this wine in the U.S.
Quinta Vale do Ruivo Branco Beira Interior 2019
The whites from Beira Interior were something new and fascinating to me. This one was full of floral and herbal notes—honeysuckle, white blossoms, even a bit of cannabis and in the mouth is steely, saline, with bright citrus and yuzu. The only problem is: Where do I find this?
Adega de Penalava Dão Encruzado 2019
Made from 100 percent encruzado, this a big, rich white full of grilled pineapple and peach, and balanced with serious acidity. Skurnik has begun imports wines from Adega de Penalava.
Tintos
Marinho 'Bro' Vinhos Tinto, $39
Fresh, cool red from Lisbon made from the castelão grape.
Adega Viúva Gomes Collares Ramisco 2014, $48
It’s hard to find Collares in the U.S. and much of it dates to the 1990s. If you’ve never tasted it, this 2014 would be worth snatching up and giving a try.
D. Graça Douro Reserva Tinto 2020
Complex and easy-drinking, blueberry and fresh plum with lots of lively licorice and pepper. Imported by Nossa Imports.
Textura ‘Pretexto’ Palhete 2020
Great easy-drinking red I had at Tasca Baldracca, full of cherry and herbs with great acidity.
DANG!! For years (like 40 or more), I've been drinking Portuguese wines. I discovered them during my "port at any cost" phase circa 1975. "Discovered" if you forget all those bottles of Mateus consumed in the late 1960s. hahaha. Found that the underlying grapes - white and red - made extra-special non-port wines. Rougher than Bordeaux but smoother than Merlots and top to bottom IMHO all slightly better than any Argentine substitute. NOW, thanks to your posting, every "Tater" out there will be buying "my" wines. OTOH, I can afford it, so THANKS for letting the World know about these until-now undiscovered gems. The grape varietals are "obscure" but the wines are exquisite. My opinion, of course.
We are headed to the Algarve this fall and have made a note to visit Vinhos Cabrita - have you heard of any other awesome producers down this way? can't wait to explore - sante!