Sardines in Lisbon: A spiritual discovery of the City's Iconic Fish.

We just had magical gastronomic experience. Sardines

Sardines! What’s so special about them, you might ask? They’re everywhere! During our early years in Lisbon, we were overwhelmed by them during the St. Anthony Festival.

And that was precisely the issue.

They were everywhere except at our local restaurant, Catarina’s, which we affectionately called Adega Bate Fundo – the places real name.

We adore sardines, so when Lisbon went sardine-mad three weeks before and they still hadn’t appeared on the menu, I had to ask Catarina.

“I don’t know,” she replied. Carlos knows.

Catarina and Carlos owned this tiny tasca in Graça, undoubtedly the best place to eat in the area. We dined there at least twice a week. Catarina managed the place during the day, while Carlos opened it in the mornings before heading off to work and to fetch fresh fish.

We’d been asking Catarina about the sardines for weeks, but to no avail. So, one morning over my coffee, I approached Carlos, who was born and raised in Costa Caparica and spent much of his life fishing with the locals.

“The sardines aren’t ready yet,” he said.

“People have to wait until they’re good enough. They’ll gather in the Costa Caparica bay, eat, and get fat. That’s when we’ll catch them. Then you’ll get the best sardines you can imagine – we call them The Gold of Caparica.”

Carlos isn’t one for many words, quite the opposite of Catarina. Thanks to my sardine inquiry, I got more words from him than I had in the two to three years we’d known each other – a rare treat!

As for when this would happen, he just said, “Have patience, Thomas.” And one more thing: Don’t eat other sardines… Remember? Patience!”

As Buddhists, practising patience is a discipline we’re familiar with, but waiting for those sardines was a challenge. Everywhere you went this time of the year, you could smell them sizzling on barbecues.

After one week we almost gave up, thinking we wouldn’t have sardines that season. Even Catarina seemed resigned to it,

“I’ve become a Buddhist after all this patience,” she joked.

Yesterday we got the phone call

… “Hi Thomas, they’re here!”

I recognised Catharina’s cheerful voice and glanced out of the window to see her standing in the doorway of the restaurant, about 50 metres away – the signal was too weak for mobile conversations inside.

Her entire body radiated joy.

“Lunch for two at 1 pm – we’ll be there,” I replied without hesitation.

I didn’t even check if we had other plans, but if we did, they were instantly cancelled.

A minute later, I called back:

“Can we bring a friend?”

We needed to share this momentous occasion and have a witness to confirm whether it lived up to the enormous expectations we’d built up over the six to seven weeks of waiting.

We were not the only ones who had been waiting

As we entered the door, we recognised all the familiar faces from Graça Village, sitting quietly and respectfully in front of their plates, awaiting the arrival of the Gold. The atmosphere was more subdued than the church just 50 opposite the park. It was clear that they had all experienced this before, which was reassuring.

Catarina – always beaming with a smile – took care of all us guests from the moment we stepped inside, greeting us with a kiss and a warm “How are you – how’s your day?” But that day, she was on cloud nine.

“All the sardines are sold out,” she announced while welcoming another guest, before introducing us to a villager we hadn’t met before.

After on beer and a glass the plate arrived

As we gazed at the fish in front of us, the room fell silent – not out of respect, but in awe of the sight.

What a magnificent plate!

It wasn’t about their size; they were neither large nor small. It was something more – the plump belly, the vibrant natural colours visible beneath the crispy barbecue skin, the tiny shining eyes, and the delicate flakes of sea salt. The silence in the room was palpable.

When we opened the fish and saw the juicy, slightly pink meat and the white bone that almost detached itself, ready to be picked up by the fork, I couldn’t help but send a silent thank you to Dona Fernanda in the kitchen.

It takes a culinary genius to treat these wonders to perfection and create magic.

And that’s exactly what we were witnessing – a culinary miracle.

As Catarina noticed our reaction, she arrived at our table with a plate of the fresh, slightly salted sardines and began explaining how a sardine should look when it’s ready to eat, and why.

Catarinas is one of our best Portuguese food experiences.

It’s easy to dine expensively in Lisbon, and just as easy to eat on a budget. However, our biggest challenge with the local cuisine has been finding restaurants that match the quality we discover at the local markets when we shop ourselves.

Except for a handful of exceptional places, we’ve rarely encountered people as passionate about the food they serve at Catarinas. She was deeply invested in the ingredients, the preparation, and her guests. And she never compromised – when their butcher had organic lamb chops, they immediately appeared on the menu.

The sardine season began only when the fish are ready – St Antonio or not! And if Carlos got hold of some special fish during the day, she knew exactly who would appreciate them and gave them a call. Catarina had strong opinions about what to use in her cooking and where to source ingredients, and she was always happy to share her insights.

What’s most refreshing was that she didn’t preach.

We learned a lot from her!

We love food and cooking,

Catarina in action for the last time at their farewell party on 28 April 2017. Dona Fernanda in the back

… and we know when we’re eating something truly special. We experienced that at Catarina’s, so 28 April 2017 was a sad day when she closed – not just for us house guests, but for the entire Graça neighbourhood. With her closure, one of the last traditional tascas in our area disappeared.

However, as the proverb goes, every cloud has a silver lining…

This morning, as I woke up, the first thing I remembered was our dinner yesterday – my first in Lisbon after more than a month in Bangkok. When we entered Penalva, we were greeted by our fellow house guests and warmly hugged by the staff. More importantly, Luis knew exactly what we wanted, and – even more crucially – he had received the perfect Berbigão earlier that day, which was precisely what we desired as a starter. He wasn’t boasting when he claimed they were the best he had ever served.

Berbigão – fresh and cooked and served to perfection by Luis kitchen.

The first one I bit into exploded with sea juices and garlic in my mouth. It wasn’t just incredibly fresh – it was cooked to perfection, just like my special shrimp omelette and Annette’s fish fillets. When I turned around, the kitchen staff were waiting for my reaction… and they weren’t disappointed.

Catarina, Carlos, Ana, and Dona Fernanda may have disappeared from our lives when they closed their tasca, but we miss them and cherish the good memories. However, if that hadn’t happened, Luis and his staff and family might not have become part of our lives. Penalva isn’t the same as a tasca, but it serves as the same communal gathering venue that Catarina’s once did.And we probably wouldn’t have discovered Filipe Rodrigues and Hugo Gouveia’s amazing take on Portugal’s rich seafood. They opened A Taberna do Mar in Catarina’s old premises – another of our favourite places to dine.

The Portuguese food scene you read about in the media is often overhyped. Most stories focus on posh and pricey establishments rather than what truly matters: food made with love and compassion, respecting the ingredients, and creating dishes where each bite stands out and surprises.

That’s how Catarina did it until she closed her tasca, and how Luis and his team do it – along with other similar places in town that we haven’t yet discovered.

About the sardines

Traditionally, the Portuguese avoid buying sardines during months ending in “ro” (January, February, March, and October). Most books and guides say that the season runs from May to September.

However, the best time for sardines is generally considered to be between June and early October, with peak quality often noted in June and July.

We had ours at Catarinas on 1 July. So that’s when our season starts.

When you go for sardines check how they look – see Catarina’s explanation in the video above.

/Thomas