There was a sign bragging about a cheap dinner. We walked down a narrow, dark and deserted alley where the tiles were falling off the walls. Normally I would be a bit hesitant about walking down dark allies but Porto has been so friendly, I wasn’t worried. (Lisbon was a different story)
The restaurant is empty. I believe this to be a bad sign. I suggested we keep walking but Lachie took a stand and said “no”. I told him to go in first. He pulled the gentleman card and opened the door for me. I would have look rude if I ignored him. Now it was up to me to ask the Portuguese waiter for a table in English.
O Cacula. This restaurant was modern, cheap and delicious. The closest thing to a home cooked meal that we have had since London. Lachie’s steak with Thai sauce was really a steak with sweet chili sauce. This went perfectly with my chicken, cheese sauce and wedges. I didn’t realize how much I missed wedges and sweet chili sauce! It reminded me of Sunday afternoons in the beer garden, the Springfield house I lived in and anywhere else that I ate wedges with sweet chili sauce.
Lachlan said I wouldn’t be able to drink the 1.3 L jug of Sangria. I said I could without getting drunk. I sure showed him. I owned that jug! Except, I was drunk. I think he tricked me.
Blending in with the scenery after my sangria.
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