Filipa invited me over, luring me with sourdough bread. Having grown in the 90's, and having eaten monstrous amount of Panrico sandwiches (the spanish version of the joyless Wonderbread), sourdough presents itself as the grown up version of bread. It is the parallel situation to that of appreciating wine and cheese-based suppers as soon as you hit adulthood. And, as for the invitation, I said yes. Yes to sourdough!
This was not a simple, 2 hours visit: I was there from 3pm to 7pm on a Saturday, and 9am to 4pm on a Sunday. We surely had a lot to talk about, and lots of sticky dough to babysit, but no doubt sourdough requires dedication. Eventually, we started calling it "the baby".
She started making bread about two years ago, and it was a rocky road until the beautiful crusty bread we ate; "the first ones looked like pancakes!". She introduced me to all the elements involved in the soon to be delicious bread - flours (wheat and rye), the starter (a smelly, living thing), water and salt. Looks easy, right? No. It's not.
This was not a simple, 2 hours visit: I was there from 3pm to 7pm on a Saturday, and 9am to 4pm on a Sunday. We surely had a lot to talk about, and lots of sticky dough to babysit, but no doubt sourdough requires dedication. Eventually, we started calling it "the baby".
She started making bread about two years ago, and it was a rocky road until the beautiful crusty bread we ate; "the first ones looked like pancakes!". She introduced me to all the elements involved in the soon to be delicious bread - flours (wheat and rye), the starter (a smelly, living thing), water and salt. Looks easy, right? No. It's not.
Filipa had been feeding the starter since Wednesday. She was explaining me how much of a labor it is to make sourdough bread. When she started, mistakes occurred - feeding the starter too much, or too late, not leavening the dough sufficiently. The scheduling has to be precise and that's why, every two weeks, she takes a whole weekend for baking loaves. Most of us would complain but she loves the ritual, it feels relaxing to her. Once you get to know Filipa, you start piecing things together - her dedication to knitting and sewing, a deep interest in past portuguese traditions, and her love for cooking and baking - there's a inherent domestic, cozy quality to all of it. You instantly feel serene around her, and I believe that is the main reason I spend so many hours at her place.
Once the bread was cold enough, we feasted, eating it along with Queijo da Ilha (a type of cheese from Azores). She roasted vegetables and toped them with puff pastry, resembling something like a pot pie. Cozyness was there once again, this time at our plate.
And there you go, the climax of this post: a beautiful, crusty sourdough bread.
Textos e fotos/ Text and photos by Matilde Viegas.
Cesta em vime (para a última fermentação da massa do pão) e a peneira em madeira para peneirar a farinha integral, removendo o farelo maior. Dois objectos essenciais no fazer do pão, que tive de procurar junto dos artesãos portugueses.

Um roteiro pelo comércio tradicional e as culinárias natalícias.
O meu itenerário matinal em busca de bens essenciais natalícios:
Livraria Lello & Irrmão rua das carmelitas, 144
A vida portuguesa rua galeria de paris
Casa januário rua do bonjardim, 352
Casa chinesa rua de sá da bandeira, 343
Casa christina rua de sá da bandeira, 401
Chocolataria equador rua de sá da bandeira, 637
Mercado do bolhão rua de sá da bandeira/ rua formosa/ rua fernandes tomás
Papelaria araújo & sobrinho largo de são domingos, 50
Descobri já não existem daqueles bombons deliciosos que davam pelo nome de "Conguitos" e que tinham um grão de café torrado no recheio. Os que ainda têm esse nome trocaram o grão de café por um amendoim. Toda uma pena...
Os frutos secos da Casa Chinesa e a broa de avintes do Bolhão são bens essenciais na semana de natal. Não passo sem eles. Fizeram-se bolachas suecas de gengibre, repletas de especiarias, um bolo de frutos (ameixas, passas, sultanas e cacau) da Nigella, um salame de chocolate à italiana, também receita da Nigella, uma challah, receita deste blog genial, e a minha aletria de sempre. O natal faz de mim uma cozinheira a tempo inteiro por dois dias, mas vele sempre a pena.
As prendas foram fáceis: ofereci autocolantes a toda a gente.
dois dentes de alho
azeite
oito cogumelos portobello
um tomate em rama
tomilho fresco
oregãos
flor de sal
um pão pitta
queijo parmesão
pôr os dentes de alho descascados numa frigideira com um pouquinho de azeite. deixá-los alourar enquanto se fatiam os cogumelos limpos. colocam-se os cogumelos e deixa-se reduzir.
entretanto põe-se o pão em forno brando, para aquecer. quando os cogumelos reduzirem junta-se umas folhinhas de tomilho e oregãos e o tomate fatiado. deixa-se alourar e apurar, se for necessário junta-se mais um fio de azeite. tempera-se com uma pitada de flor de sal. quando o pão estiver quente mas não torrado (bastam 5-7 minutos) retira-se do forno, abre-se e põe-se dentro o refogado de cogumelos. juntam-se umas lascas de queijo parmesão e voilá!
acompanha-se com o melhor vinho tinto que houver em casa.
Descubro que além deste site e de livros maravilhosos há também um filme da BBC. Um daqueles filmes...












