4 Memorable Dishes I Tried in Porto, Portugal—And What They Taught Me

Sierra, CA

Traveler Details: Age Range: Late 20s | Food Preferences: Adventurous eater, comfort food lover, dessert enthusiast | Black American solo traveler | First time in Portugal | Low-to-mid budget | Passionate about culture through cuisine | Wears twists, soft-spoken, emotionally open

I didn’t expect food to change me. I expected to like it, sure—to taste something new, to post about it, to move on. But in Porto, food became a conversation. A memory. A mirror. Every dish I tasted felt like it was saying, “Slow down. Be here. This matters.” These aren’t just meals—they’re lessons. Here are four unforgettable dishes I had in Porto, and what they quietly taught me about Portugal, about connection… and about myself.

1. Francesinha — When Indulgence Feels Like a Hug

Let’s start with the local legend. Francesinha is a sandwich—but calling it that feels disrespectful. It’s thick. Layered. Drenched in sauce. It’s the kind of meal you stare at for a second like, “…All of that’s for me?” Ham, steak, sausage, melty cheese, and that signature beer-and-tomato gravy? It sounds intense, and it is. I tried mine at Café Santiago, where locals packed every table. At first bite, I laughed out loud. It was salty and rich and messy and unapologetic.

Kind of like me. I was a solo Black woman in Portugal, figuring it out. And this dish made me feel like I didn’t need to do anything except sit, enjoy, and let the sauce drip down my fingers.

Tip: Go hungry. Seriously. Split it if you can.

Affiliate pick: Top Porto Foodie Tour with Francesinha stop included

2. Bacalhau à Brás — The Power of Simple Things

I didn’t expect much from shredded cod, eggs, and potatoes. It sounded… basic. But Bacalhau à Brás is the dish that whispered to me: “Let the simple things surprise you.” The restaurant was small, tucked into a quiet street, with handwritten menus and slow jazz playing overhead. I was the only tourist there—and the only Black woman. I felt unsure, even a little out of place.

Then the food arrived, and all of that faded. Warm, salty, soft, comforting—like scrambled eggs elevated to art. Each bite reminded me that peace doesn’t have to be extravagant. Sometimes it’s just a quiet moment and food made with care.

3. Pastel de Nata

I’ll be honest. I tried to resist the hype. “It’s just a custard tart,” I thought. I was wrong. My first bite of Pastel de Nata happened at Manteigaria, and it genuinely made me emotional. Warm, flaky crust. Creamy, sweet center. A light dusting of cinnamon. It felt like biting into a sunrise. I stood at the counter and closed my eyes. Not for drama—for gratitude. Sometimes when you travel, your joy feels delayed. You’re navigating, adjusting, calculating safety. But this was one of the first moments I felt pure joy. A reminder that yes—I deserve this sweetness, too.

Pro tip: Eat it warm. Pair it with espresso. Sit down.

Affiliate pick: Portuguese Dessert Box – includes Pastel de Nata mix

4. Polvo à Lagareiro

Octopus. I wasn’t ready.

I nearly skipped it out of fear, but I’m glad I didn’t. I tried Polvo à Lagareiro at a waterfront spot in Ribeira, grilled to perfection with olive oil, garlic, and potatoes. It was tender, smoky, full of depth—and nothing like what I expected. It challenged me in the best way. Eating it felt symbolic: stepping out of comfort, tasting something unfamiliar, and realizing it was exactly what I needed.

Note: Ask if it’s fresh. Avoid it reheated—it changes everything.

Final Thought

In Porto, I didn’t just eat. I reconnected—with culture, with courage, with presence. Each meal gave me something. Warmth. Ease. Surprise. Comfort. And long after I left Portugal, I carried those feelings home with me. If you ever find yourself in Porto—go eat. Try what scares you. Order what you can’t pronounce. Sit where the locals sit. You might just discover that food isn’t just about taste. Sometimes, food is how we remember who we are.