My Obsession with Octopus Continues

Despite a summer bout of procrastination that has been making my head spin, I recently managed to write about something that really matters: my love affair with the octopus, torrid and tempestuous as always and very much alive in the lazy days of summer. Here is a link to Calidoscopio (an on-line Spanish cultural review that has been kind enough to let me write in English and wise enough not to bother with a translation into Spanish): www.calidoscopio.net/2008/06Julio-Agosto/Miscelanea03.html.

Octopus in Portugal

It happened quite unex-pectedly, my last meeting with the octopus. It wasn't carefully planned and carelessly executed like the char grilled fiasco of last year. In fact, but for a gnawing hunger and a missing guidebook which might have led us to pre-tried options, we would never have settled for Cafe Paris in Sintra (Portugal). I mean, can you really expect an authentic Portuguese experience in an ostensibly overpriced restaurant named for a French city, particularly when it sits directly in front of one of the main attractions in town? Common sense dictates that you cannot. As it happens, however, common sense is a gift I lack.

Lucky for me. Cafe Paris serves a sublime grilled octopus. Certainly the best octopus I have ever had--and I am slightly obsessed with octopus so you can trust me on this. So redolent of perfection is it that it may well pave the way to heaven. Just one tentacle would certainly tempt St. Peter to open the pearly gates.

The octopus was just one of the highlights of a Portuguese trip filled with fantastic food and nightly Euro 2008 soccer. Other outstanding meals were had at the atmospheric Oliviers in Lisbon (a set menu of 9 excellent appetizers, of which the truffled tagliatelle and octopus carpaccio were the sensous stars, and a delicious but superfluous black pork main, all accompanied by an excellent bottle of Duas Quintas, a great Duoro red) and at the tiny Boquim do Mouraira in Evora (the owner of the bar, which seats no more than 10, himself whipped up a stack of tender grilled lamp chops, freshly fried potato chips and a delicious salad as he watched the Spain/Greece game and we sipped some tasty house red).

I must warn you, though, the Michelin starred Eleven in Lisbon was overpriced (expected) and unimpressive (unexpected) as well as over-salted (common in Portugal, but unacceptable at a restaurant of this level). Worse yet, the Pousada Solar da Rede in the Duoro Valley, while a stunning place to stay for the night, served some of the worst food we had on the trip (I suspect some of it pulled directly out of the freezer) and at a shameful price given the disastrous quality.

Octopus Cookery

What you may not realize about octopus is that it needs to be pre-cooked for approx-imately 1 to 2 hours (depending on your method) before it becomes edible. Octopus, apparently, is a tough meat.

When I purchased my first octopus, really just a lone tentacle (enough for a single girl), I imagined that it was something like squid, which I have also never cooked. However, I have a distinct sense of how one cooks squid and no one has ever disabused me of this notion. Squid, in my mind, is cooked on a grill, quickly and with minimal fuss. This method is easily adaptable to a sautee pan at home, with a little olive oil and maybe a splash of white wine.

Having purchased my first octopus tentacle at my local fish market, I was ready to sautee myself a little octopus to accompany a salad of arugula and tomato with a lemon caper vinaigrette. With uncharacteristic caution, I checked the internet to ensure that I was correct in my views about octopus cookery. This is where I learned about the pre-cooking. That night, I ate bread and cheese.

I was prepared the next evening, however, and returned home sufficiently early to pre-cook the octopus. I tossed it in a pot with a few pieces of lemon and onion, left it on simmer and retreated to my computer to entertain myself for the next hour or two before my dinner was ready. Well, one thing led to another, and before I knew it more than an hour had passed without me having checked on my tentacle. When I did finally get myself into the kitchen, the water had completely evaporated from the pot, leaving a rock solid layer of brimstone on the bottom. The effect was somewhere between poaching and barbecuing and the octopus was delicious. I would recommend the method, but for the expense of purchasing a new pot.

Subsequently, I tried my first ever "melt in your mouth" octopus at Carballeira (c/Reina Cristina 3 (between the Borne and the Old Port), tel: 933 10 10 06). Go with someone you know and love as the lighting is a little searing for a first date.