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Walls stacked from floor to ceiling with gleaming cans of conservas, overhead shots of golden discs of pastéis de nata, and moody wine bar interiors in endless reels that inspire wanderlust and longing. Is everyone on Instagram going to Lisbon right now? (The answer is yes).
This enthusiasm for Portugal converges with the notion that conservas are having a sustained cultural moment. Tinned fish has been all the rage for the last couple of years (just Google “hot girls eat tinned fish” and see merch emblazoned with the slogan and articles extolling tinned fish’s popularity).
But while Portuguese conservas and jaunts to Portugal are so hot right now in the fervour of post-pandemic travel, where has all the other Portuguese food in America been? Where are all the Portuguese chefs and restaurants stateside?
In just these last two months, first-generation Portuguese chefs seem to suddenly have found their voices, at least in the weeks-old restaurants, chef David Viana’s Lita, in Aberdeen Township, New Jersey and chef Brian Oliveira’s Gilda, in Philadelphia (opened with his husband, chef Brian Mattera). Mark Santos’ Barra Santos has just opened its doors in Los Angeles to much fanfare, with a menu serving piri piri chicken and bacalhau fritters and in White Plains, chef Anthony Goncalves is inspired by his Portuguese father’s traditions and so, the Restaurant at Kanopi is dedicated to serving a Portuguese tasting menu. (Goncalves was just recognised as a semifinalist for the 2023 James Beard Foundation’s Award for Best Chef: New York State.)
Lita and Gilda’s roots may be in Newark – and Barra Santos’ as well – but Portuguese-American chefs are ushering the best of their childhood sensory memories into a new era. And it’s about time.
Bridging the gap
On a gloomy Sunday morning in Philadelphia’s Fishtown neighbourhood, I elbow my way into the bright and diminutive Gilda. I wait somewhat impatiently in line and place an order for the pastéis de nata made in-house, right before they sell out for the day. Egg custard quivers in improbably crisp layered shells, dotted with chocolate chips and bursts of raspberries. A shelf stocked with conservas and Portuguese biscuits sits below a case stuffed with other house-made pastries and varieties of bola de berlim sourced from Teixeira’s Bakery in Newark. I truly must elbow my way in and out of Gilda, as the line winds out the door.
“The response has been really amazing within Philly and outside – we’ve had folks travel from out of state, the ‘burbs, and across the city. It’s been very exciting for us and the people coming in! We’ve learned that a lot of people in and out of the Portuguese community have strong ties or fond memories related to Portugal,” say Oliveria and Mattera.
Photo: Kerri Sitrin
Gilda opened in March 2023 and is inspired by Oliveira’s experiences growing up as the American-born son of a Portuguese immigrant. His family emigrated from Portugal in 1980 and settled in Newark, NJ, though he would spend summers and holidays at his grandparents’ house, cooking with his grandmother. Her dishes directly influence the menu at Gilda, though the restaurant is named for Mattera’s Italian grandmother.
“A lot of the dishes we serve are pretty close to what I grew up with, like the caldo verde and bacalhau fritters are exactly like my grandmother makes them. The piri piri chicken is a classic preparation, albeit a lot spicier than the corner spots in Newark, but still very reminiscent of growing up. Our house breakfast sandwich, the Antonio, is a good example of how we take classic Portuguese flavours and mix [them] with the things we also love to make – the same Texeira's roll I grew up eating, the classic flavour of the linguica, and the comfort of a good Jersey-style breakfast sandwich,” says Oliveira.
The timing was right for Gilda, which is housed in the very same space where Oliveira and Mattera first met, when it was the restaurant Girard Brasserie. The pair opened Gilda in Philadelphia simply because they happened to be living in the city, and almost inadvertently, they quickly filled the great dearth of Portuguese food.
“I think it's definitely a cuisine that's been coming into the spotlight more, it utilises a lot of the same ingredients that we're used to with neighbouring Mediterranean countries. Similarly, preparation is simple but still refined through hundreds of years of tradition. I hope to see more Portuguese spots open up across the country. Opening Gilda has definitely shown that there is a huge Portuguese community outside of Newark and Fall River yearning for a sense of home. It's wonderful to help bridge that gap for the folks that come to see us!” says Oliveira.
Lita
Greatest hits
Less than 70 miles away and much closer to Newark (also known as ‘Little Lisboa’ as it is one of the epicentres of Portuguese immigration to the US), there is Lita, named for another important maternal figure by James Beard-nominated chef David Viana, a fellow first-generation Portuguese kid. Viana shares Oliveira’s sentiments. “There’s a strong tie and an easy translation to be made [from Portuguese to American food]. It’s protein and seafood forward. Lots of potatoes and rice. It’s not too foreign. Paprika is mild and one degree away from what Americans are used to. I’m excited for the future. It’s a beautiful canvas to paint with – Portuguese food is having a moment! Lisbon is having a moment!”
Lita’s expansive space, with its enormous open kitchen and hearth, graceful rattan seating and cosy banquettes, is in a strip mall in New Jersey. Its neighbours are a Starbucks and a Bed, Bath & Beyond. Lita calls itself an Iberian restaurant, but it’s a departure from the Spanish and Portuguese places that Viana grew up frequenting in Newark. There’s energy, life and vigour emanating from its staff – but more on that later.
The playlist is a heady mix of Portuguese rock, Shakira, and old school Maná, fitting for the menu’s Portuguese core that embraces a blend of Latin influences. Like Gilda, much of Lita’s menu features a greatest hits list of famous Portuguese dishes: piri piri chicken, bitoque (beef fillet served with fried egg and French fries) and multiple preparations of bacalhau, baked or formed into croquettes. The amêijoas à bulhão pato, or clams in cilantro white wine broth, is transported from Viana’s childhood. “We always had to have a pot of that. Sometimes I would have a pot all to myself. [On the menu, mine is] the same one! It’s as traditional as it gets. Some things are perfect. They don’t need to change,” says Viana.
Tarta del queso at Lita
Other dishes take Portuguese flavours in directions they’ve never gone before. I order the ‘cozido’ repolho, wondering why the name for the stew is in quotation marks on the menu. The cozido that arrives looks nothing like the stew I’m expecting. Gently simmered cabbage leaves are vertically stacked and blanketed in a fairy dusting of ash.
“Cozido is a peasant dish. It reminds me of Sundays at my grandmother’s house. I wanted to really elevate it. I opened with a cozido that [is comprised of] pork belly, potatoes and cabbage, but then I wanted to make it smaller and more refined. But I kept enjoying just the cabbage. So I changed my mind – I don’t want to recreate this dish exactly, I just want the cabbage to be the star,” Viana tells me. The current iteration consists of a fortified broth, cooked cabbage over saffron aioli and fresh cabbage. It’s set down in front of me scenting my booth with its smoky perfume. Not only is cabbage the star of the dish – it’s the star of the entire meal.
“I want Lita to be a home for wayward chefs to work at and a place for people to appreciate food to dine at. It’s a modern take on Portuguese food, which I never thought about cooking professionally. My food has long been tweezer food,” says Viana. Being cooped up during the pandemic changed Viana’s style of cooking and took it back to his roots. “I started cooking things that my grandmother could make, and I realised I couldn’t get this food anymore. I was making it in an honest way at home and seeing the difference and disconnect from what was available outside.” Viana describes a situation where Portuguese food culture in New Jersey declined to the point of being unrecognisable to him. “I wasn’t seeing my own food where I lived – compared to Lisbon!”
“In Portugal, we eat five times a day, but small portions,” Viana tells me. “But in Newark, the plates are huge. The older Portuguese community here expects larger plates. We’re trying to reach a younger, American crowd.”
David Viana (second left)
A new model
In developing Lita, Viana spent two weeks in Portugal, eating from Lisbon to Porto – “from small mom and pop shops to Michelin-starred places” – and then he returned to the peninsula for a research trip with his entire management team. “We flew everyone to Spain and went to Madrid and then Valencia for paella. I wanted us to sit at a table and [be able to] recreate it. I wanted the team to have the taste memory of what we’re looking for, of what we’re trying to get to. I wanted those taste memories to be vivid and poignant and for us to have the same vocabulary.”
That same team races around the dining room in beanies and canvas aprons. They cheerfully explain the details that go into making each dish because they know them intimately – all the servers are also chefs. Viana hired no servers, but rather trained chefs to work front of house. This model prioritises equity across the team by ensuring equal pay and eliminates the industry’s outdated FOH and BOH divisions.
There’s much to be done – in spreading the gospel of Portuguese flavours stateside and tearing down the walls of restaurant inequities, but with Lita, Viana is onto something. “Lita is the culmination of my career. It’s nostalgic. There’s a lot of love and intimacy. I love tweezer food and fine dining. Childhood, relatives, nostalgia – mixing it in a shaker with what I’ve been doing for a living. Adding a dash of where the industry needs to go. Shaking it up and pouring it into the glass. That is the recipe. It’s a culmination of many decisions I’ve been collecting.”
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