Drink - Victoria Moore enjoys some rough and swarthy Portuguese
I didn't go to Miguel Castro da Silva's restaurant, the Bull and Bear, the last time I was in Oporto, because it was recommended to me by an expat, and expats always seem to like bland, modern European places where they can forget they're not at home.
It's now clear to me that this was a mistake. Miguel's cooking is inspired by traditional Portuguese dishes, refined to sublimity. His ingenuity is capped only by the conservative nature of his customers who are not, he says, impressed when he tries to put on the menu such things as octopus carpaccio pressed into a terrine. This is probably a good thing, because it ties him closer to his Portuguese roots.
I snaffled a couple of hours of Miguel's time when he was in London last November to cook a seven-course dinner at Vinopolis. Portugal has been freshly rediscovered by the wine bourgeoisie, and I wanted to see what Miguel had to say about it. I know what you're thinking: why go to a chef to ask about wine? But cooks deal in flavour and, while they rarely pretend to be experts, they usually have a robust and informed opinion on wine.
The idea was to drink our way through the wines that would be served with food at the dinner I couldn't attend that evening. I like Portuguese wines: they often taste a little bit roughed up and swarthy (yes, even the whites), stubbly chins and sweaty T-shirts to the smooth-jawed, off-the-peg suits coming out of the New World. And I mean that in a nice way.
Portuguese wines are, like Miguel's cooking, becoming more refined. "Have they still got regional character?" says Miguel. "Well, if you mean, is this still horrible wine that no one can drink, then no. They've got better. But yes, there are still some."
We started with Dow's Extra Dry White. I liked it, but I'm not sure quite what the point of white port is. It's one of those great-at-the-right-moment drinks (in this case, a summer's evening in Portugal and with a dish of salted cashew nuts to hand) that lose all lustre away from their perfect time and place. Next we had Calcos do Tanha 2000, a white wine with a lemony tang on the nose that sucked the moisture out of your mouth. I rather loved it. Miguel said it was made from a blend of grapes that included Codega - "which I don't normally like. It has a banana flavour that I can't taste on this one."
To serve with either pigs' trotters in fresh coriander and saffron risotto or hake with olive maize bread crust and rocket sauce, Miguel had Redoma Branco 1999. "This white is quite Burgundian, but with a twist. It's not like drinking wood." Indeed, the oak was pretty nicely integrated; the Vinopolis restaurant manager wandered over to say how much he liked it. It tasted more New Worldy than French to me, with lots of ripe tropical fruit. But the taste welded itself to my gums all day, and I don't like that even when it happens with smoky bacon crisps. The Niepoort ten-year-old port was the tawny colour of rotten strawberries; it smelt of red berries and dried fruit. Miguel was going to cook confit of duck and foie gras to eat with it. "The dish is fine, but also intense. Mashed potatoes give it some structure."
That sounded very good to me. Esporao Reserva 1999, the red he'd hoped would go with the clams "because it has good acidity and smells of the sea", contained a little more tannin than Miguel had hoped for and was, he observed, a little short on the palate. The guy who owns Esporao also owns the football clubs FC Porto and Sport Lisboa e Benfica. He's had a few Australian winemakers, among them David Baverstock, in to advise. I did fancy there was something of a New World smell to this, along with the black fruits and spice. There were three more wines, but I have space for just one, my favourite: Quinta de la Rosa Reserva Tinta Roriz 1999. Black as ink, with firm but fine grainy tannins, it spoke to me of the bracingly steep slopes of the Douro Valley, from where it comes. Miguel gave me a funny look when I ventured this and said he'd picked it because he likes to combine black pudding with wines that are still too young: "They have an energy."
Whatever. If you want to try it, you can find your closest UK stockist at www.quintadelarosa.com/uka.htm
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