You can’t come to Lisbon without noticing the sardines.
Not the real ones at first.
The souvenir ones. They’re everywhere. Hanging in shop windows, painted on tea towels, magnets, aprons, mugs, Christmas decorations… if someone can stick a sardine on it, they have. At first I couldn’t work out why a city would become obsessed with a little fish. Then you realise sardines are almost a national symbol. Every summer they’re grilled over charcoal during the June festivals, especially around the Feast of Saint Anthony, and the smell drifts through whole neighbourhoods. Locals love them. I remember them fondly too. But they are huge here.
A fish with its head still on isn’t usually the first thing I order.
But after seeing sardines absolutely everywhere, I was beginning to understand. They’re not really about the fish. They’re about summer, family, friends, a glass of wine and standing around a barbecue chatting while dinner cooks.
It’s funny how every country has something that makes you think, “Why is that such a big deal?”
In Portugal…
It’s a sardine.
This shop sells only sardines.
