If Food Be The Food of Food, Then Food On

Oh, I know what you’re thinking right now.
“Surely to God he’s not going to devote an entire post to food!”
That’s because (with 2 notable exceptions) you’re not a Brownie. It’s not that we’re obsessed with food. Oh no, it goes WAY beyond that. But as Patricia Brown would say, “If you don’t understand, I couldn’t possibly explain it”. Therefore, time for the tales.

I didn’t go to the Azores on a food quest, but I had done some research, and once I discovered Debbie & Michael were Azorean Restaurant Virgins, the die was cast.
Our first stop was “A Tasca”, which I had feverishly read about, since it has a reputation as the “ go to” eatery for locals in Ponta Delgada. Unfortunately, when we arrived I realized that I had forgotten my glasses (there’s a first time for everything) and the menu was in Spanish, so I did what I always do in these situations: I threw myself on the mercy of the server. In this particular case, it was an inspired decision. Our waitress was the Perfect Storm - flawless English from her 10 years living in Boston, deep & abiding maternal instincts and bossy as all get out. She quickly ordered me octopus and the Catch of the Day. When I was bold/stupid enough to suggest that perhaps I would like French fries with my fish, she simply turned, gave me a withering glance and said, “You’re getting the sweet potato”.
Okay then. As it turns out, her choices were perfect and don’t for a minute think she didn’t lord it over me for the entire meal.
“Good, right? Didn’t I tell you?”
See for yourselves.

Honestly, if I thought I could have gotten away with licking the plates....

Buoyed by our initial success, we next took a drive to Furnas, which is famous for its volcanic bubbling hot springs.

Yeah, yeah, absolutely fascinating. But what I was really here for were the cauldrons of food, which were placed in special holes dug into the smouldering soil and left to simmer for 6 hours.

And once I saw Tony’s special hole, well... no need to explain, is there?

So off we went. I’d already cased Tony’s (no sense wasting eating time) and, while we didn’t get to meet Tony himself - a bitter disappointment, since I was relishing the encounter “Hey! Tony! Tony Baloney! How you doin’?” - the meal more than made up for it in both quality and quantity.

Honestly, have you EVER seen that much meat on a single plate? The only jarring note was the blood pudding , which literally had an indescribable taste, and not in a good way.

Time for the finale of our Holy Trinity - a drive to Villa Franca del Campo to sample the queijada, a tart originally made by nuns in the 1600s using a secret recipe that involves lots and lots of flour, butter, sugar, egg yolks, milk and a dash of quezo fresco (a special cheese). What’s not to love? Naturally, I had only intended to get one, but when the lovely lady behind the counter assured me that one “would never be enough”, I realized the error of my ways and bought the handy six-pack. How convenient. It’s hard to describe just how delightful these things taste by looking at the exterior, but if I tell you that when you take a bite, your taste buds are greeted with a creamy, gooey, rich interior, you might get a better idea.

I feel I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least mention our final feast, which took place at Gastronomo, a restaurant that Debbie had read was both vegetarian and vegan friendly. The meal was memorable -not so much for the food, although it was certainly more than adequate - but rather for the ordering.
Our waiter, who obviously prided himself on his grasp of English, assured Debbie that they did indeed have a “vegetarian” option, which turned out to be a huge fruit and vegetable salad. Although Debbie seemed quite content, one look at Michael, aka Monsieur French Fries, was enough to make our guy realize that “accommodations” would have to be made. There ensued a conversation worthy of an Abbott & Costello routine.
“So you want the salad?”
“Yes, but we also want French fries and sweet potatoes.”
“ Both of you? And you’re getting the fish?”
Hopefully you get the drift. In the end, he assured us he understood EXACTLY what we wanted. Well, maybe not exactly. Here was the end result:

Not quite as much food as we would have liked, but thank God we had time to order a second helping.

There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? And I promise I won’t do it again - at least until we get to Barcelona. Then all bets are off.

Next time: Gran Canaria: The Good, The Bad and The Unusual.