In your granddad’s Lisbon, lunch in a tasca may pass silently, the television, on mute, tuned to the mind-numbing variety show Praça da Alegria. It may take years to achieve a first name basis with the dour man behind the counter. On his menu, scribbled on a paper napkin and taped to the window, anything but cozido portuguesa on a Thursday would be tantamount to treason. Now don’t get us wrong, we have a deep appreciation for the code of that bastion of traditional Portuguese cooking that is the tasca – the knee-jerk resistance to change that has helped preserve neighborhood culinary traditions against a ferocious tide of globalized sameness – but, let’s admit it, fun is generally not on the menu.
This is, thankfully, not the case at Tasca Baldracca, the latest opening of a trio of chefs, Octavio Delmonte, Bruno Gama and Pedro Monteiro, whom you will remember as the heavily-tattooed and bearded spirit in the kitchen of Sal Grosso. “A tasca should be loud and fun and the distance between the guests and the kitchen workers should not exist,” Monteiro said.
This social experiment began at Sal Grosso, where Monteiro and his kitchen cohort also functioned as the waitstaff. They’d straddle a chair, maybe offer an abraço, casually run through the menu and then go cook it. We can vouch for the unique vibe and excellent food at Sal Grosso during Monteiro’s tenure. For many in Lisbon, that experience was a sort of eureka moment. We’d seen the light: a lunch of arroz do pato can be delicious and fun, too. That’s basically the deal at Tasca Baldracca, only blindingly so.
“A tasca should be loud and fun and the distance between the guests and the kitchen workers should not exist.”
The fun starts immediately with drink orders taken by one of the many cheerful Brazilians working the room, often Monteiro himself. Without much fuss, the menu board offers “cerveja” which is a delightful IPA from the local craft brewery MUSA, and the wine list of just a few options – including a juicy pet-nat by Dirk Niepoort – will win nods of approval from the natural wine enthusiasts of this city.
How to make a standard couvert more fun? Forget those foil-topped individual packets of paté and butter that your granny nonchalantly slips into her purse at Sunday lunch; Pedro whips the paté into an airy mousse and serves it in a stylish little copper bucket. And about those tired old olives ladled out of a tub behind every tasca counter, at Baldracca they are freshly breaded and fried. The bread is a good chewy sourdough from Millstone, a bakery created by the sous chef of José Avillez. Halfway through your first drink, you’re way ahead of most lunchers around town.
The menu is an eclectic mix of very intense Iberian flavors, and portion sizes are relatively small and designed for sharing. They fry so well here that even the anti-organ-meat faction at the table will relent at the sight of a plate of fried chicken gizzards. The scotch egg, beneath a deep-fried shell, hides a layer of just enough blood sausage to lend color and flavoring, which, for us, is enough. Round out the order with a plate of French fries drizzled with the peppery gravy typically served with suckling pig (and, don’t worry, you can also order the suckling pig, separately). The pastel de feira de polvo, a pastry ballooned up and stuffed with chopped octopus, is a reference to Monteiro’s native Brazil, where the pastry is ubiquitous. Smaller, rigid versions of the same pastry accompany the beef tartar, which is served with house made mustard and anchovy mayonnaise.
There are reliable mainstays like the Galician octopus, as tender as you’d expect. The veal cheeks slowly braised in red wine are like the chanfana of your dreams. At this point in the meal you’re dying for a salad to counter the richness of all these dishes. But true to the tasca, there is no salad. There are some fresh herbs and fried hunks of garlic loosely scattered over the cuttlefish, which is blanketed in hollandaise sauce and served on a vessel of crunchy bread. One good reason to order dessert is to justify a second pass at the bottle of chilled Abafado that Monteiro plunked down on the table. This sweet fortified wine beckons a bite of cheese cake, which is the house specialty.
Baldracca is not the only place in town challenging the conventions of the tasca. Right up the street, Monteiro’s friend Zé Paulo is working in a similar way at O Velho Eurico. Sal Grosso is back at it, albeit with a different kitchen crew. Pedro Abril was turning things around at Chapito, but that ended fast. These young chefs formed a collective called New Kids on the Block, bringing their kitchen chops and Venice Beach swagger all over town. They may turn up in each others’ kitchens for a night, or bring the party to a stand in the Saturday farmer’s market or perhaps you’ll catch them at a popup with a graffiti crew. It’s all moving very quickly and nothing seems out of the realm of possibility.
In your granddad’s Lisbon, life and lunch were meant to be more predictable. But this city has changed, and places like Tasca Baldracca are filling a gaping hole in the restaurant scene. These new kids on the block are not here to burn down your favorite old school tascas – they’re carrying the torch for them.
Published on April 20, 2022
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