MiguelCardoso

Are you talking Kentucky straight whiskey here, Irwin? I hear Jefferson practically invented it, bless him. This apart from being the all-round-most-perfect-person who ever lived - even despite Nick Nolte! :) I think (Bush "fils" excepted, that renegade bastid!) all American presidents served a good drink and a fine cocktail. Perhaps Nixon was too Scotch-heavy. JFK, however, the Bay of Pigs notwithstanding, knew his Cohibas and his Daiquiris so he'd be my choice drink-wise. For the record, I did search for White House kitchen/cuisine/chefs stuff but all I came up with were out-of-print Amazon books and silly classroom fodder. Hence the innocent question - who were the real foodies? I once chanced to be having dinner in a Portuguese restaurant, Porto de Santa Maria when Bill Clinton came in with a few friends. I'm sad to say that, though he did choose well food-wise (he had the sea bass roasted in salt), he drank Diet Coke with his meal. This was a great disappointment to me.

This entertaining article by Jonathan Reynolds in the NYT Magazine, though espousing a proletarian cafeteria theory, got me thinking about the gastronomic habits of American presidents. Since it's a subject I know zilch about, I was wondering if the "cognoscenti" in the Washington forum might enlighten me. If you had to choose to have lunch with one American president, based on biographical information or just an inspired hunch, who would you prefer? (You wouldn't have to talk to him if you didn't want to, just eat the food he served - not necessarily at formal dinners. I'm also talking snacks and sandwiches here!)

I see that Corby Kummer includes a telephone number and says reservations are accepted - that hasn't been our experience at all, the bastard! ;) By the way, the Joaquim Figueiredo mentioned in the article is one of Portugal's most exciting new cooks. French-trained, he's been reinterpreting Portuguese ingredients in the most delightful way. He's now at one of the oldest and prettiest restaurants in Lisbon (it's 220 years old and out-Prousts Proust, all chandeliers and unchanged 18th Century charm), Tavares. Here's a review by Portugal's best restaurant critic, David Lopes Ramos. It's a real treat, though very expensive (200 euros for two if you choose a cheaper wine, not a problem here). But, as I said, coming to Portugal for innovative cuisine, such as you get in Spain, is like visiting Saudi Arabia in order to study Catholic architecture... The other two innovative cooks in Portugal, if you're interested, both very good and traditionally based, are Vítor Sobral, at the Clube de Golfe da Bela Vista in Lisbon and Júlia Vinagre in the Bolota Castanha in Estremoz. She also presides over the lovely Terreiro do Paço restaurant in Lisbon; though BC in Estremoz is by far your best bet. Estremoz, where winemaker João Portugal Ramos is based (see the e-mail I sent you) is where Margarida Cabaço's magnificent São Rosas is. The Pousada there is enchanting, but so is Cabaço's own private inn. All the best!

Thanks, fresco! I've never been to Toronto, but it's always whetted my appetite - so much diversity and a nice, big city. So stand by - perhaps I can convince some editor to send me there ostensibly to investigate Portuguese cooking there... Meanwhile, let me reiterate my one Algarve recommendation, Vila Lisa. (along with Sudoeste in Ferragudo, near Portimão and Clube da Pesca Desportiva, recommended in the latest Algarve thread). He doesn't have a phone number and I've mislaid the number of the café next door, useful for knowing how long the queues are, but here's an article by reliable old Corby Kummer in The Atlantic about it. A good game plan would be to ask Mr.Lisa himself where else to eat (he knows everything). If he's in a good mood. Some people I know have bought his rather unattractive paintings just to ingratiate themselves with him. It's still absurdly cheap (I think he's a Communist who hates profit) but the cooking is truly sublime. The wine is no-choice and, I must say, very awful, but with food that good, who cares? People have to sit with everyone else and take what's coming. He himself, swigging Glenfiddich, sometimes doesn't know what to cook next. But it's all superb and impossible to find elsewhere. The Sopa de Conquilhas (baby orange clam soup) is a life-changer, as is the Raia Alhada à Algarvia (garlicked skate) and, by the time you arrive, the first fresh "favas" (broad beans) will have appeared and he'll make his unbeatable "favas com chouriço". I'm looking forward to reading your report!

You're very welcome, fresco. I've agreed with all your opinions about Portuguese cooking (and food in general) and so you'll appreciate my addressing you as a fellow Portuguese. :) However, not on this trip but (I hope) the next, I sincerely wish, since you like good food, that you'll visit the part of Portugal where it's extremely difficult to find a bad meal: the North. In places like Guimarães, Braga, Viana do Castelo and Porto you have to be really jinxed to alight upon a place which doesn't serve the most marvellous food. Imagine a country where everywhere you go, you're bound to find the cheapest, most delicious, freshest and just-cooked food you can think of - well, that's the North of Portugal. Galicia, in Spain, is much poorer and less refined, with a much more limited cuisine. That's the North of Portugal - divine! The wines too. And the people! Our fellow member Chloé lives there and she seems to know all there is to know. The Algarve, though attractive, is the least interesting of all Portuguese regions. It's not really Portuguese - as it's only been ours since the middle of the 13th Century. Plus, the sea there is vaguely Mediterranean, not really Atlantic, so full of rotten Mediterranean fish. Nearby, though, is the Alentejo - a great place for the best "enchidos" (cured pork products) and simple fare. Coastal Alentejo (all Portugal is both coastal and interior) is very rich in lovely warm, Atlantic fish (nothing to do with the sewer-ridden, soft, disgusting Mediterranean fish of Spain, France and Italy) and delicacies like "percebes" (goose barnacles"). Phone me and I'll do my best to make sure you'll enjoy Portugal as much as we Portuguese! :)

Great news, Fresco! It would take a year and 500 pages to list my recommendations. But I know from your posts you know a hell of a lot about food so I'm sure you'll know the usual signs. 1) First, absolute advice: ask the locals. The Portuguese are terribly finicky and critical (basically we thinks all restaurants are shite, which is why so many stay on their toes) and to be asked puts us on our honour. Say "queremos comer bem, mas bem mesmo - como o senhor" (We want to eat well, but really well, like you) and people will truly tell you their secrets. Women are far more critical, being cooks - if they recommend a place (which they generally won't, advising you to go to the market and cook yourself) then you can be sure it's superb. 2) There are so many restaurants per capita (as it's still slightly cheaper to eat out) that those that are crowded are always fabulous. Many which are not crowded are also - but, since you'll be here for a short time, I'd follow this rule. There is no such thing as a crowded restaurant in Portugal which isn't great - as we Portuguese are spoilt and hate waiting; don't book; are, in fact, insufferable customers. If I try to compliment the chef, for instance, all other diners will go "Shush!", as they consider praise makes a restaurant complacent and more expensive. A grumpy, insincere "It was OK" is about the maximum allowed. 3) Do not look for culinary invention. Portuguese cooking is all about the freshness of the ingredients and the cooking of traditional, regional dishes which have been around for ever. 4) There is very little relation between price and quality. A lot of great restaurants are very cheap but a lot of terrible ones (in fact most) are very expensive. Good, fresh wild fish and shellfish are ALWAYS very expensive (more expensive than Spain and France) but to miss out on them would be a great loss, as it's Portugal's greatest treasure. There are very good fresh, wild fish which are cheap (peixe-espada/scabbard fish, carapaus/horse mackerel) but you need rule #5 to find them 5) Do not trust menus with a long list of different fish or, in fact, a long list of anything. What you will always want is a "prato do dia" (daily special - always excellent, whether meat or fish) which depends on the market and is always one-day-only. Be careful, though - the best run out about one-thirty in the afternoon. This is often the cheapest dish, but it's the best. Almost all restaurants have the most popular dishes on a particular day, which tend to be the same. "Cozido à Portuguesa", the magnificent and most-loved dish, is almost always on Wednesdays and Thursdays. It's very important in Portugal not to go somewhere with an idea of what you want to eat. You have to go with the flow. If you ask the waiter what's good, he'll be on his honour to tell you and won't fool you. It will always be a "prato do dia" or a "especialidade", something the restaurant is famous for. 6) The most reliable online guide to Portuguese restaurants, written by one dedicated guy, José Silva, is Netmenu 7) That's about it, at such short notice and with so little space. Apart from Netmenu, an invaluable aid is the nifty Yellow Pages restaurant guide. Although it only lists addresses and the information provided by the places themselves, it's thorough and will give you a reliable idea of prices and specialities - apart from phone numbers and addresses. Create your own "my favourites" section to keep track of your choices. Here it is. Feel free to e-mail me so I can give you my telephone number for emergency gastronomic calls. My favourite restaurant in the Algarve, a spectacular one-man extravaganza of authentic "cozinha algarvia" is Vila Lisa, in Mexilhoeira Grande. It's very small and there's no choice but it's heaven. There are usually one or two-hour waits (no reservations) but this time of the year you might get lucky. I hope you and your wife enjoy your trip immensely, it goes without saying! :)

Girl415: Figaroscope is a reliable resource for finding out where Paris restaurants stand at the moment. It certainly seems to approve of Goumard, for instance - best bathrooms in Paris, apparently! Let me know if you can't access the Goumard review (it may be a session link or whatever) and I can e-mail you the text, unless one of eGullet's copyright nazis is watching. ;) Thanks a lot for the recommendation, OAKGLEN! Membership of Figaroscope was free last time I checked. Although it has its quirks and bugbears I've found it to be well reported and fairly judged. Happy 40th birthday, when it comes! Or why not start enjoying it now, come to think of it?

Joselito is indeed even better - if such a word can be used when discussing different levels of the sublime - but I had no idea why. Thanks, vserna! Anyway, I found this recent article about their hams. A quick Google turned up at least one UK supplier of the Gran Reserva vserna recommends, though the fact that it's in English shouldn't really convince anyone. Better by far to get hold of one of the old-fashioned Spanish suppliers, some of which are represented online. Great Ibérico ham goes very well with fino Sherry or Manzanilla, as well as quite a few red and even whites, but, although I'm not a beer guy, I have to say I like it best with a good, cold Spanish draught beer. Spanish lagers are still criminally underrated and unknown in America. And they have the advantage of making up for what you spend on the ham, as they're so ridiculously cheap!

A good, reliable brand is Sánchez Romero Carvajal. Although it's obviously far better sliced off the bone and eaten immediately, I wonder whether it wouldn't be easier, mail-wise, to order their vacuum-packs. I haven't tried them but they're sold in the fancy groceries in Portugal which sell the Cinco Jotas ham. In fact, it was my dinner today, straight back from the Corte Inglés, where the slicers know their business (the Portuguese cut irritating square-sized pieces which are way too thick for my taste), preceded by some luscious mojama, sliced from a freshly-opened tuna belly. As Jabugo is very near the Portuguese border, lots of us go there to buy our hams and it may be that Sánchez Romero Carvajal is a mania of ours and that there are far better ones to be found from smaller producers. But it's about as delicious as you can imagine and two ultra-thin estate-packed 100 gram packages, slipped between the pages of a magazine and sent in an A-4 envelope... ;) P.S. The rest of the First Spain web site looks good too!

OK, I found a link (in Portuguese) to back up the claim that they're harmless. According to what's said there (and other places I looked) the salting process kills them, although they may be present all the same. Anisakis are a problem with fresh cod, not with bacalhau, specially as you can't see them. But who eats uncooked cod? I'd imagine it makes the worst possible sashimi. However, I seem to remember (though it's easy to accept we probably imagined it) that the time we found the little worms - about 3 - in the sub-standard bacalhau, they sure seemed to be wriggling. An intelligent solution for sissies like us is to use the quite excellent pre-soaked frozen bacalhau we get in Portugal in any supermarket (two good brands are Riberralves and Pascoal) when we don't have the 36 hours to properly soak the better bacalhau you get in the specialized, ancestral shops. I imagine it's readily available elsewhere in civilized Europe. Though it's not nearly as good - I'd say 30% of the perfect flavour - at least you know it's free of all possible passengers. For dishes where the bacalhau is shredded or mixed with other things, it's definitely OK and I recommend it. In fact, we had it for lunch today - bacalhau à Gomes Sá - and ate so much we could do little else but stumble contentedly to the bedroom, for a repairing three-hour-long "sesta"... Of course, if you're hard-core like us and won't accept less than a gigantic, really thick "posta" of bacalhau, simply steamed or grilled, with the appropriate bridesmaids, then you really have to go to one of the specialist "bacalhoeiros", to be found only in the bigger cities and damned expensive, and buy a whole salted Icelandic cod, which they'll slice expertly. It's a sign of their self-confidence that, to this day, they won't sell you part of the bacalhau - just the whole thing, including all the thinner bits and bobs that are so much work to cook. No bugs there, I can assure you!

They're quite frequent in less-than-well-cured bacalhau. We cook it often but we've only found them once My wife, like all Portuguese cooks, is obsessively suspicious and a bonafide parasite detective who'll spend five minutes inspecting everything, including ground herbs, rice, pasta. You also get them (a lot) in dried, dehydrated mushrooms and lots of other preserves. They're absolutely harmless though - and soaking kills them and separates them. Some people use vinegar to guarantee a quicker murder. But no, even though I know it's silly, I wouldn't eat bacalhau or anything else which fostered a community of little worms, however harmless. On the other hand, if our vegetables, after they're soaked in water (we leave everything in a big "alguidar" of water for at least 20 minutes) don't reveal any little worms or caterpillars, we're disappointed as there's obviously something wrong with them. Old-timers won't eat fruit (cherries or apples specially) that hasn't been partially burrowed by a caterpillar or pecked by a bird. "Fruta com bicho" (fruit with a bug) is considered a sign of health and lack of tampering with pesticides and what-have-you. Hey, Pedro - who knows if a few years from now, wormy food will become the New Organic? :)

Yep, in Portugal too. You can get what you'd call a good square meal, with wine, for 15-20 euros - something simple and fresh but boring - but if you wanted something memorable or different, actually worth the experience, you'd at least have to pony up an extra 10 euros. And to eat well reckon on at least 40 euros per person. Really well for 50 euros. Superbly for 75-100 euros, with a generous portion of shellfish beforehand and better wines. Come on though - it's still cheap! At least before the dollar nose-dived. (I have to say I quite resent the idea that you can come to Western Europe, where food is worshipped and a lot of trouble is taken so that it reaches you in its freshest and most agreeable forms, given the extremely demanding nature of the people here, and still expect it to be inexpensive. If there are still bargains to be had in Europe, they are farther to the East, where the fish, at least, isn't so good.)

Hey, thanks Pedro! I've been madly jotting down your suggestions for my next excursion. Because I started working on a new food column for the "Diário de Notícias" I haven't made it to Galicia yet, although my travel diary is now choc-a-bloc with recommendations. This pseudonymous Spanish columnist seems to really know his Galicia - and he's similarly intransigent and old-fashioned. I'm sure you know his work - I discovered it by chance and found it simply outstanding, specially on the Galician stuff. Another excuse, perhaps more sincere, is that I discovered a brand-new restaurant in Lisbon, called "Tertúlia do Paço", in the Rua Fernando Lopes Graça, 13-A (telephone: 351-21-758-1456, ask for the genial maître d', Senhor Varela) which has a hi-tech salt-water holding tank (meaning it's only to keep the shellfish alive for the 24 hours between reception and serving) and a complex supplier-net, extending all over Portugal, Galicia, Asturias, Navarre and Brittany, which delivers the best live scallops, "lagostins", "percebes", oysters, red shrimp, "gambas", "bruxas" (slipper lobsters, "santiaguinhos" in Galician); "orelhas do mar" (abalones) and "pepinos do mar" (sea cucumbers). It also has a fantastic variety of fresh, daily fish and - for those who can't afford it - a traditionally roasted suckling pig. I've only been there 5 times (in the last two weeks) and it's severely ruined my finances, but, you know how it is, I'm in love! So I'm well consoled! :)

Yummy! The best lamb I've ever had - and Spanish lamb is the best in the world - was in the skiing resort of Baqueira, in the Spanish Pyrenées - "cordero lechal" slowly braised on an open fire. According to the locals, these luscious, almost sinful lambs are killed by pushing them off a small cliff, so they don't know what's happening to them and the meat remains tender. The best restaurant (with a wonderful atmosphere), where I've been every winter for the last nine years is right in Baqueira and is called La Borda de Lobato.

Although this is definitely "Shhhhhh...." territory and it would be intensely counter-productive, price-wise, to popularize one of the world's greatest and most scandalously affordable pleasures, Michael Franz in the Washington Post (reg.required; but transcript follows) has let the cat out of the bag. Prices for the best Vintage Port are prohibitive nowadays (even for us Portuguese), but good old Tawny port is still the best and most delectable bargain for Brits and Americans. Why exactly is this so? Have most wine lovers never tried it? Is it difficult to obtain? Both reasons seem implausible, to say the least. What's your opinion on the matter? Really old Madeira is even more luscious, cheaper and hardier, but its "smoked" flavour" is perhaps less immediate. But 20-year-old or even cheap 10-year old Tawny ports? What's not to love?

Agreed again - and point taken - Michael! :) When you come, I hope you'll stay with us, hear? :)

Fair enough, Pan. But just like we must distinguish between George W.Bush and the (people of) the U.S.A., in matters gastronomic and cultural the policies of the political bosses are almost always different from what actually happens on the ground. And even irrevelant. You can't dictate cooking. We're talking food, are we not? Though I must say I disagree, historically, with your categorization of the Portuguese navigators. They were a very, very small minority, out to charm or impress, and violence was always a last recourse - in a few cases (i.e. Afonso de Albuquerque) it was tragic. This was, however, an exception. A sense of proportion is required: how could a hundred or so seamen impose their will on vast populations? We Portuguese are very few, even now, and yet our influence has been out of all proportion to our size. This could not have been accomplished by violence. Or violence alone. Besides, you should come to Portugal - it's the sweetest, least violent country I know! :)

Black Tie - what a wonderful place Raoul's must be. There was no such sophistication when I was up at Oxford, I can tell you. Congratulations on the website too. Though I have to admit I balked more than slightly when seeing you add *eek!* apple shnapps to your Old-Fashioneds. ;) But back on topic - I love gin and, according to the time of day and mood, will have Bombay Sapphire, regular Tanqueray 47.2º, Beefeater, regular 41,6º Plymouth or good old Gordon's. We always have at least a bottle of each at home as you never know what you're going to feel like. Very generally, I think BS and Plymouth make the best martinis (though Plymouth is a bit oily and, of all the gins, is the most likely to give you a hangover, perhaps because it's made properly in a copper still). Tanqueray is good if you're going for the "silver bullet" feel. I use it whenever I want a little more oomph. When I travel I pick up a couple of litres of Crown Royal, which is 100 proof Beefeater, but it's a bit too strong... There's also a 100 proof Plymouth but I've never tried it. For G&Ts, Beefeater and (do not mock!) Gordon's are best, as long as you make them properly with untreated, freshly plucked lemons (I add a slice of lime but I think lime alone is too sweet) and Schweppes Tonic Water. Beefeater is best for cocktails - Negronis specially, which I adore.

Kristin: "Tempero" would be the word in the 16th Century too. Portuguese and Brazilian etymologies all mention "tempero" rather than "tempora". "Tempora" in the religious sense is fairly erudite anyway - it also means "temple" in the forehead sense! I foundthis exchange on the (apparently fake) Portuguese origin of "arigato" , which also addresses (unsatisfactorily) the etymology of "tempura". On a more gastronomical note, here's a great little Japanese-Brazilian page on Tempura which backs the frying hypothesis. The article also mentions the very light, airy cake "pão de ló" which I've seen for sale in Lisbon sushi houses as "Castella"(?) cake; boiled sweets and "fios de ovos", a sweet egg dessert separated in strands, a little like linguini, which is extremely popular here. One must understand that around the time the Portuguese went to Japan they were, to all extents and purposes, the most widely trading country in the world, freely spreading all manner of spices, condiments and sugars, from Brazil, Europe, Africa, India and the Far East (anything, in fact, that could be kept aboard). When settling in a new country, it was only normal that they'd use local methods and cuisine (because that the early Portuguese voyagers were, above all, learners and embracers of everything new and foreign, rather than teachers or colonizers) and add just a touch of this or that to remind them a little of home. One musn't forget that the civilizations they came into contact with in the East were often far, far more advanced (and not only gastronomically) than their own. The success and lasting influence of the Portuguese is due, in my opinion, to this curiosity and humility, which led them to behave as go-betweens and bridges between cultures - that and a natural willingness and even ability to adapt. Tempura itself is surely a Japanese creation which might have been influenced by something Portuguese. That's more or less true of all the many gastronomic encounters across the world - it's local cuisine which has incorporated an element brought by the Portuguese. Most often this element was brought from one of the many cultures encountered on their voyages - very rarely from Portugal itself. This light touch is seen in our own present-day cuisine. Although many influences are felt, from all round the world, it is often very subtle - a sure sign it's been deeply incorporated. Fascinating stuff!

It remains a mystery, as far as I can see. "Temperar" means "to season"; "temperado" is "seasoned" and "tempero" is "seasoning". When frying, this means little more than salt and (rarely) pepper. The Portuguese are very sophisticated when salting fish and almost every fish has its own requirements. Certain white fish (like hake) are salted against the grain of the skin, like combing a cat the wrong way - this is called "arrepiado". Generally, though, most fish will be salted only 15 minutes before frying. This is the traditional method: 1) Fish is (quite heavily) salted. 2) 15 minutes later, the salt is washed off and the fish is towel-dried. Everybody licks the fish to make sure it's salty enough. Then it's dragged through fine flour and vigorously shaken so that only a little flour remains. There's a method of frying fish without flour, called "à pobre" ("poor man's style"), which is also quite popular. 3) The frying process is complex and you have to be a great cook to get it right. Good fryers, who are rare, manage to fry quite enormous whole fishes (like really big Dover soles) so that the skin and outer bones are really (but really!) crispy, while the flesh retains all the flavour of the fish - it's as if it were quickly poached. This amazing contrast is the sign of good fried fished. No taste of oil; no sogginess; no droopiness. Japanese tempura actually reproduces this contrast. The quickly mixed, lumpy batter is more sophisticated than the Portuguese quick flouring but the result is the same. With good tempura there's the same delicious counterpoint of the crispy surface and the luscious, moist interior. My guess is that "tempura" comes from "temperar" ("to season") and not from any of the religious meanings. Surely very little read meat was eaten in Japan at that time and the Portuguese, loving fish as much as the Japanese (No.2 and No.1 consumers in the world) would never regard eating fish as something you did when meat wasn't allowed (on Fridays). Also, I'm sure that the frying method is more central than the actual fish - as the Portuguese love briefly deep-frying green vegetables (specially French beans, lightly coated in egg and flour, which we call "peixinhos da horta", i.e. "little garden fish") and, after the American imports, potatoes and red peppers. I have to say that nowadays Japanese "tempura" is an art all of its own and it's typical of their politeness to attribute the word to a remote Portuguese influence. I'll be looking into the question with more depth - but just thought I'd leave some first impressions just to keep the ball rolling. Mmmm...tempura! I've tried it - oh, at least 30 times - at home, with all the variations (Perrier and ice) and Japanese oil and flour - but I've never, ever got it remotely right. Fish I can fry. So that makes me respect Tempura all the more!

This may be extreme, but I cannot respect a critic who doesn't appreciate the value of fried anchovies, whether fresh or preserved. What's not to love about fried anchovies? They are similar to sardines or horse mackerel. Anchovies have been part of Mediterranean cooking for thousands of years. It's part of the old Roman "garum", Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and Provençal cooking (dissolving salted anchovies in olive oil is an integral part of too many elemental dishes to mention), not to mention the even more ancient Asian cuisines, in innumerable fish sauces or even English Worcestershire sauce, anchovy essence or what have you. For me (I'm Portuguese) it's almost like not appreciating black pepper. I'm hoping she expressed herself too vehemently as I can't really believe it's true. I'm glad we'll have a chance to clear this up in the forthcoming Q&A. But I have to say I fear the worst. Not liking anchovies is just not on! ;)

Good for you, butterfly! Madrid is a wonderful place and you really don't need to worry about neighbourhoods - it's very easy to move about. It's a big city but very accessible. That's one of its great charms. It's more important that you get in a "madrileño" frame of mind - Madrid is your oyster; it'll all belong to you. Whether you get a cheap car, use the excellent public transport or use (relatively cheap) taxis, it actually pays to move about. No need to get tied down! A good online resource is El Mundo's Guide By Favourite Dishes. Best of luck!

Verjuice: vermouth can last for months if you rebottle and keep it in the refrigerator. Use the smallest air-tight bottles you can find and fill them right up. Leave no air! Miniatures are fine - specially if you're as ungenerous with the vermouth as I am. A common cause for bad Martinis is extra dry white vermouth that has gone off, i.e. musty and rotten-smelling. Same with the red vermouth and its own cocktails - only worse. Never leave vermouth in the original big bottle and never outside. Btw, Tawny Port and LBV Port will keep for at least two months. Only Vintage Port goes off after about 24 hours. Madeira, of course, will last you for years.

Here are some time-tested combinations to submit to your appreciation, in the hope you may be coaxed to share your secret pairings: 1) WITH salted, roasted almonds (must be freshly peeled and oven-roasted, with good sea salt and black pepper and just a little butter to help the salt and pepper to stick to the nut): a) Scotch or Irish Whisk(e)y and Perrier in a highball, lots of ice; b) Cold tulip of manzanilla or very dry and young "fino" Xerez (N.B. In parts of Spain pan-fried almonds are used); 2) WITH pimento-stuffed green Manzanilla olives (desalted in water and then resalted with flecks of "fleur du sel"): a) Gin and tonic; 3) WITH perfect, fresh gigantic Manzanilla green olives: a) Gin or Vodka Martini (pure, no olive juice); 4) WITH roasted, salted peanuts in their shells (freshly oven-roasted or a tin good old Planter's): a) Marguerita; b) Beer; 5) WITH oven or pan-roasted, salted, peppered pine-nuts: a) Negroni; b) Campari and soda; 6) WITH roasted, salted hazelnuts (skins scrubbed off): a) Screwdriver. All these pairings work wonders. I am still looking for the perfect combination for black olives; Kalamatas; Picholines and all the other olives; roasted pecans, walnuts and macadamias; figs; raisins; lupin beans (apart from beer); dried roasted pumpkin seeds ("pevides" in Portuguese); fried, salted fava beans; et caetera et caetera...

Thank you for your kind and experienced advice, Mrs.B! I think I'll follow it, too!