Blowing your cover with a charge in Portugal

There's an undercover cost to meals and snacks in Portugal. It's called the couvert, or "cover". This sort of thing works differently in different countries. In some places, there's a cover charge that generally just pays for table service. In those places, it's not optional. In Portugal, it is optional, but you have to pay attention.

Portuguese menus have a section called "couvert". In that section are items such as bread, cheese, olives, and the like. You don't need to order some of them; they're placed on your table, the way you'd just get a bread basket in America or other places. If you eat it, or any of it, you're charged the cover price. Here's a sampling of the unrequested cover hospitality, local cheese, olives, and bread:

But the prices vary. The bread and the olives cost less than a euro. That little plate of cheese, though, is typically four euros (about six dollars right now). And it isn't pro-rated. You eat one slice; you're buying the plate of it. In Portugal, restaurants are affordable and portions are generous. But getting the bill is a happier occasion if you know the rules.

The cheese stands alone

Galicia comprises the northwestern corner of Spain. It's visited for its plentiful seafood and its pristine beaches. It's also the home of Santiago de Compostela, the third most important pilgrimage site in Christianity, behind Rome and Jerusalem. The Cathedral's stone carvings pay homage to many a Bible character, including one woman, most likely Queen Esther. She has a front-row spot on the Portico de la Gloria, a sculpted facade considered one of the most striking in the world. And she's the one who inspired Galicia's most titillating cheese.

According to local lore, the cathedral's original carving of Queen Esther was well endowed, in her place among the apostles and prophets. Nearby, a carved Daniel was smiling in her direction a bit too broadly, and rumors began to emerge of romance between these two stoners. Local elders were not pleased, and they ordered what amounted to breast reduction surgery, with a chisel.

Now, the citizenry did not receive this news well, and retaliated. A new cheese shape came into fashion, the tetilla, which translates to "small breast." So one of the regional dishes is basically "titty cheese." As a political statement, people would leave this breast-shaped cheese as an offering at the statue. The cheese is still sold everywhere. Nobody leaves it lying around, though. It's too delicious to part with. Got milk?

The breakfast of couch potatoes

In Noia, Galicia, Spain, there's a stand that makes nothing but churros. There's always a large bowl of the most-recent batch of sizzling dough.

Churros y chocolate might actually be less healthy than a big bowl of Count Chocula. This breakfast favorite is constructed from a paste of flour and sugar that is deep-fried in oil. So far, it's just junk food, right?

Then it's served with what you'd think is hot chocolate, since it's hot, and it's chocolate, and it's served in a cup. And though it's treated as a dunking beverage for the churros, it's less a drink and more a sauce. It's thick, and dark, and it wouldn't be out of place drizzled on a hot fudge sundae.

If the fried dough and the sugar dunk aren't diet-busting enough, the portions will do you in. The donut portion of the dish is equivalent to about three unraveled fried crullers. The chocolate portion would cover a prize-winning banana split. All to get your day going.

It all tastes yummy, though, and you get a perverse pleasure out of not cleaning your plate. You simply can't.

Nibbling at the Death Coast

The northwestern corner of Spain is known as the Costa de Morte, or Death Coast, in the region of Galicia. This rocky shore of the Atlantic has swallowed up many fishing vessels over the centuries. It's appropriate we do some swallowing in return.

Galicia's many treasures include octopus, which is tenderized and cooked, then seasoned with olive oil, salt and paprika. It's called pulpo a fiera, but it really isn't spicy. The other dish here is razor clams, called navajas.

Many eateries offer a course called rationes, which roughly means portions. The conventional tapas constitute smaller portions of these dishes.

We expected that these dishes would simply have been an afternoon snack, but this twilight interlude made it largely possible to circumvent dinner altogether that night.

There are about a dozen dishes that show up on the rationes menus in most places, and our plan is to run out of species of fish before we run out of Death Coast.

The wedding is over. Let’s eat.

Our return to the UK wasn’t predicated upon the royal calendar, just on the arrival of the merry month of May. After a restless overnight flight, your body simply doesn’t know what meal makes sense. For me, that’s a great time for sausages, which work any time of day.

What struck me about this pub dish was the presentation. First, the notion of making the dish attractive – for the poster child of pub grub – was a surprise. And the presentation was appealing, even to my half-closed eyes. Second, I just don’t imagine cabbage to be a garnish on a lovely dish, but there it is.

Fit for a future king. Now get some sleep.

The spice of life; hold the spice

A survey done by hotels.com revealed that U.S. travelers are not that adventurous when it comes to eating local cuisine while they're traveling.

The survey found that almost two-thirds of travelers make it a point to try the local cuisine when traveling. Only six percent surveyed said they would not stray off the beaten path, and would only eat cuisine that they were familiar with. Of those polled, 13 percent were not even willing to try any local cuisine at all. Twenty-nine percent had chosen a destination because of its cuisine, and 18 percent prefer to eat at an American fast food chain instead of a local restaurant.

So almost two-thirds of travelers try local cuisine, but then you have to deduct those who chose the destination specifically for its cuisine. That's why they're there. That leaves about only about a third of travelers who think it's a good idea to eat locally.

American fast food? Cuisine that you're familiar with, like marinara sauce? Food is one of the few real pleasures that you get in travel that doesn't need to be translated for you. If you're avoiding surprises, then you're kind of missing the point of leaving your neighborhood.

Trying to eat familiar dishes while you're away is a triple problem. The first is that you're missing out on the cultural experience of travel. The second is that a burger made in another country isn't anything like the burger you're getting at home. The bread is different. The meat is different. The other ingredients (like bread crumbs or who knows what else) are different. Even the fast food places have different menus than they do in America (McCroque, anyone?) And the third problem is that what you think is Chinese food isn't what they serve in Greece or Croatia as Chinese food. And, by the way, neither of them is anything like the food that people actually eat in China. If you want to try Chinese food overseas, go to Beijing.

I admit that I'm more adventurous in, say, France, like the above shellfish starter that included something called bigomeaux (translated to "winkle" or "periwinkle") than I'd be in, say, Syria (where I once had a terrible burger and a fabulous milkshake). But eating real Turkish ice cream (the one I tried was flavored with some kind of tree sap), which has an odd malted flavor, helps you understand your childhood Turkish Taffy candy. After all, one of the joys of travel is that you come back with a better understanding of yourself.

So put down that pizza and try the dish that everyone is eating around you. Even if it's tripe.

A Mess 'a Mezzes

I had occasion to be in Lebanon about a month ago, and hoped to gorge myself on eastern Med cuisine, which is delivered in fine form in Beirut. Alas, I was sick for the entire duration of my visit, and my meals were infrequent and small.

At least, I was able to enjoy one of the best elements of Lebanese cuisine, the mezze plate. This is an assortment of small bites, and the hot version boasts an array of veggies, cheeses or minced meats.



The triangular turnover is fatayer, a spinach pie, and the curved bundle is sambousek. The little cigars have the odd name of rkak, and the croquette at center is kibbeh, which is traditionally in this torpedo shape and fried to a delectable brownness.

There are restaurants in town that specialize in mezzes, and there's no doubt that even a healthy appetite can make a great meal out of these treats.