Strange Brew

Another glorious afternoon and I've settled into my shady spot in the garden, underneath the balcony with a lovely cup of tea. Those of you that know me well, will most likely be saying, "Tea?" right about now. Yes, tea. Back in England I'd quite happily quaff mug after mug of instant coffee throughout the day, but here, somehow "instant" doesn't taste the same as it did in England. More significantly though, having spent most of my life drinking large mug sized drinks, sometimes a teeny tiny cup of "café" or even a "café duplo" just doesn't hit the spot, at which point I've found that a nice large mug of tea is exactly what is required.

10 individually wrapped bags? Seriously?

Becoming a tea drinker isn't exactly easy in Portugal though. It's the teabags you see. They do sell them in the supermarkets but the whole ethos isn't quite the same. For some bazaar reason they seem to sell them in boxes of 10, and that's simply ridiculous. If you hunt around on the shelves you can maybe see boxes of 20 too. And inside these tiny boxes? Individually wrapped bags of tea with a string and a little tag to dangle over the side of your cup. Which in all fairness you kind of have to do, because if you tried to make tea like I used to in England, that is, a quick stir and remove the bag, the tea would be so weak it would have hardly been worth making it in the first place. And, it's not that the Portuguese don't like tea. On the contrary. After all, it is rumoured that one Catherine of Braganza, spouse of Charles II of England and daughter of King João IV of Portugal, introduced tea to the English in the first place. The reality is that the shelves are usually packed with small brightly coloured packets of green tea and fruit teas of all sorts and then, especially for those hardcore tea addicts, a couple of highly expensive packets of "Chá Preta" or in other words, common garden English style "black tea". Anyway, last night I managed to pick up a large box of 80 bags of Pyramid shaped tea bags, and not an envelope or string-tag in sight. They cost me over 7 Euros, but worth every cent in my opinion, and at least I was fortunate enough to find a box of 80, which will hopefully last me at least a couple of weeks.

The switch to being a drinker of leaf based drinks rather than bean based drinks is, I'm sure you'll understand, not the only lifestyle adjustment I've made. There are many others. I've been a vegetarian for years now but the chances of me coming home from the supermercado with a packet of Quorn sausages is unequivocally zero. I've heard rumours of the Iceland supermarket on the Algarve selling them, but quite frankly I don't believe it, and even if they do, it's a bit of a drive to say the least. Thankfully, bags of soya chunks and soya mince are freely available in the local supermarkets, so at least when the hankering for "fake meat" strikes I can get my fix. Recently though I've expanded my culinary skills somewhat and experimented (quite successfully judging by my children's empty plates) with making veggie burgers from scratch. And when I say, "from scratch" I mean from soaking the beans overnight upwards. This is another lifestyle adjustment I've made. I now routinely have a cling filmed bowl of beans or chick peas soaking overnight on the kitchen window sill.

Watch out! It's Seriously Mild.

I suppose that the next thing on my list of English foods that I miss is Cheese. Portuguese cheese is fine in it's own way, and granted, there are many different types ranging from the Edam-esque "Queijo Flamengo" to the stronger more mature flavours of "Queijo da Ilha" or a "São Jorge". Then there is "Queijo Fresco", which is basically like cottage cheese and of course the multitudinous varieties of cured and dried goats milk cheeses with their colourful paprika coatings. The problem is that there does not seem to be a Portuguese equivalent to a nutty Red Leicester or creamy Double Gloucester, let alone anything remotely resembling a crumbly Cheshire or Wensleydale, although I remain forever hopeful that one day I will discover such a tangy delight. But I do very much miss those cheeses. Truth be told, if I go to the supermarket I might just be able to pick up a small packet of "Seriously Mild" or "Seriously Strong" brand Cheddar, but it will be very highly priced and I'm far more inclined to spend my hard earned cash* on a chunk of flavoursome Emmental instead.

When I first started drafting this edition I planned to have a paragraph about how I missed not only good honest English cheese but also the other essential ingredient that one needs to make one of life's staples, the humble cheese and pickle sandwich, namely Branston Pickle. Since then, however, I've petitioned relatives from England who stashed a couple of jars in the next children's book parcel. And since the parcel arrived, I've discovered that you can actually buy Branston Pickle in the "strange foods from around the world" isle at the supermarket. Again, it's very expensive due to the import costs associated with traditional English goods.

Fresh milk would have to be the next thing on my list. You can get it quite easily, but it's about twice the price of UHT. For the first 4 months of living here I'd take a walk out in the morning, past the eco-point, to the corner shop to buy a carton of fresh milk and some bread. Then one day I was a bit late getting to the shop and he'd only got UHT milk left. I remember thinking at the time how horrid UHT milk was, but I needed some milk for my expensive cup of tea, and so I bought a carton. Turns out that either my tastes have changed or UHT milk has, because quite honestly I can't tell the difference.

As far as other changes that are inevitable upon emigrating to foreign parts, there are plenty of other things that I miss from England. And not all of them food and drink related, but that will have to wait until another post. Suffice to say that if any of my esteemed readers are contemplating the move out here, please bear in mind that you also may have to make a few initially perhaps uncomfortable lifestyle adjustments, but you'll get over it! And in the end? The pro's definitely outweigh the cons.

*Sarcasm. It is actually my wife that works hard. Bless her. And I never have any cash.