At CURA, inside the quiet grandeur of the Four Seasons Hotel Ritz Lisbon, with chef Rodolfo Lavrador, the conversation moves somewhere between discipline and emotion.

How far can you go while still staying within the lines? Recipes, traditions, heritage — not as limitations, but as a framework that holds everything together. And within it, a quiet opening: new angles, new textures, new ways of seeing Portuguese product without ever breaking it.

CURA doesn’t try to surprise loudly. It refines. It edits. It brings you back to something familiar, but in a way that feels more precise than you remember.

Set against the restrained architecture of the Ritz — marble, symmetry, that almost cinematic stillness — the experience feels composed from start to finish.

At LAMINA in Lisbon, we talk with chefs Vasco Coelho Santos and Inês Azevedo about Portuguese cooking beyond traditional recipes, using ingredients from beginning to end, fire, seasonality, memory and the surprising complexity of simple food.

We talked with Tiago Penão, chef at Kappo - 1-Michelin-star Japanese cuisine restaurant in Cascais , and Iazakaya — two opposite yet complementary expressions of the same culinary world — about omakase and misconception, authenticity outside the motherland of the cuisine, and the intersection of Portuguese product with Japanese cuisine. And of course, over dinner at Kappo itself: a room moving in unison, everyone starting simultaneously, fully surrendering to the rhythm and precision of the chef. An exercise in trust, restraint, and one of Lisbon’s most singular Japanese dining experiences.

What a dynamic, the place is buzzing. You either book three months in advance - or you wait (which, honestly, is not bad at all). The mood is unbelievable. Grab a snack by the window while Chef Zé Paulo does his best to get you seated. We spoke about the spontaneity of tascas, traditional food 2.0, the bem-feito principle, where recipes originate - and how to dig them out, cook them properly, and make sure they live long on menus. A great talk, you cannot miss it.

The quite power of classical technique. A place where you arrive already trusting the level - and still leave gently disarmed by how much more of it can give. French professional training meets palate that keeps listening, adjusting, evolving. It's a kind of confidence that doesn't need to declare itself - you feel it in the rhythm of the room, in the calm of the minimal interior, in flavors that unfold slowly and stay with you longer than expected. Classical foundations, yes. But alive, breathing, and quietly moving forward.

With Cynthia Bitar, chef and founder of TOUTA, we spoke about family, the women who shaped her cooking, bringing Lebanese traditions into dialogue with Portuguese produce, and the challenge of translating emotion and nostalgia into something as tangible as a dish. Much like Touta itself, the conversation was warm, generous, and deeply personal — a reminder that the most memorable meals often begin long before the restaurant, around family tables, in recipes passed down through generations, and in the stories we carry with us.

Cecilia Munguira Cámara, now a professional cook, has built a career that moves as fluidly as the cities she resides in - Paris, Madrid, Lisbon. Before cooking became her profession, she studied and worked in fashion — a background that still shapes the way she thinks about aesthetics, composition, and creativity.

Our talks explored the connections between those two worlds and the questions that continue to guide her work today. What makes a good dish? Is it simplicity, or the ability to bring together multiple elements without losing clarity? Spanish background, and how do childhood memories find their way onto a plate?

Learn more about Cecilia's projects on her instagram @ceciliamunguira

A little bit of alchemy, a little bit of magic and years of mastering the craft. Shelves full of jars, ingredients preserved months in advance, and a kitchen that’s already thinking about seasons that haven’t arrived yet. Spent the afternoon at Ciclo, the restaurant Jose and Claudia have built around a farm-to-table philosophy. Had a truly insightful conversation with Jose about working with nature instead of against it, and why zero waste isn’t a trend or a concept — it’s simply a way of thinking.

A great talk on Louise’s journey and what “new-Portuguese” begins to mean. And Mark Ol'yn, Father at Gancho, views on how unfairly coriander keeps showing up on dishes. Here — at Gancho, Louise steps out of the precision of Boubou's, not to simplify but to release control. From composed tasting menus to something more direct — food that leans into memory, into gesture, into instinct. A cozinha do coração, but sharpened by technique you can’t unlearn. A neo-tasca, loosely said. Paper tablecloths, close tables, a room that hums without trying. Traditional dishes, but slightly off-axis — Portuguese at the core, with quiet drifts of France, of elsewhere, of her. Alfama outside — textured, a bit chaotic, always alive. Inside — the same energy, just held tighter on the plate.

At Guarda-Mór, chef Martí built a restaurant around chicken — but also around big tables, private parties, storytelling and the possibility that dinner might end with someone dancing on one of them.

We talk about why Guarda-Mór belongs specifically to this room and this Lisbon street — and why Martí doesn’t want to turn it into a chain. About cooking for 60 people when you’re naturally better at cooking for three, building dishes around that addictive quality that makes you immediately want another bite, and finding inspiration somewhere between restaurants, Instagram, France and childhood memories. We also get into his grandmother’s Tarte Tatin, Guarda-Mór video series and its potential cinematic future. And, importantly, we establish that the tables are solid enough for dancing.

At Le Grand Bain, in the middle of Belleville, the place still carries the energy of the neo-bistro movement that reshaped Paris dining in the late 2010s. Opened by Edward Delling-Williams and Edouard Lax on rue Denoyez — the graffiti-covered street that became part of its identity — it never lost that raw workshop feeling: concrete, brick, numbered tables, a central counter, blackboard menus, loud playlists, people leaning over small plates and natural wine.

Talking with current chef of Le Grand Bain — Toms Berzins — about the legacy of the place, the freedom to push it a bit further, boring dishes, and thorough work with ingredients. Have you ever thought about how asparagus actually grows? And what it would mean to recreate that on a plate? Fish with meat — combinations that shouldn’t quite work, but somehow do. Ingredient-led, but open, a little unpredictable. You watch or read it, you come to Le Grand Bain and taste it — and either figure it out, or just enjoy.

Garrincha was one of the first places I discovered when I moved to Lisbon — and one I kept coming back to. Chef Adam Denis builds the restaurant around a menu that changes every day, shaped by what’s available, what’s in season and what feels right to cook. We talked about his journey, the thinking behind Garrincha, and what it means to create a restaurant that is never quite the same twice.

Trained at Le Cordon Bleu London and named La Liste’s Pastry Talent of the Year 2026, Juliana Penteado talks about choosing pastry over savory cuisine, exploring Portugal’s traditional sweets, working with French techniques and essential oils, and how tastes change across cultures. From puff pastry to the perfect pairing of coffee, tea and dessert — a glimpse into the thinking behind her work.

Alfredo is a place that welcomes you with quiet confidence, Marin's Colomès, chef at Alfredo, story is layered and thoughtful, much like the kitchen itself. Named after Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist’s Alfredo, the restaurant carries a similar mood: stripped-back, precise, rhythmic without trying too hard. Nothing feels overproduced. Nothing feels loud. Once you visit, it is on your radar and you return to for good food and a casual atmosphere that is deliberate rather than accidental. Thank you Marin!

Great talk with Leonardo Carreira, chef of Barbela CPM — a space for creative minds and a progressive, almost algorithmic menu in constant evolution. Here, fish from the Portuguese coastline is dry-aged, and products are reengineered, revealing dimensions not yet seen. Consistency, seasonality, and the building of thoughtful supply chains become integral parts of the creative process. Barbela operates with the precision of a laboratory and the curiosity to challenge whatever feels fixed. In Leonardo‘s hands, the future of contemporary dining unfolds quietly—measured, intentional, and impossible to fully predict. Step inside and witness it, full interview in profile.

Portuguese cuisine is changing—but what should it preserve, and what should it leave behind? In this conversation, Pedro Pena Bastos reflects on Portuguese culinary identity, seasonality, the rise of sharing plates, and how diners' expectations are reshaping restaurants today. We discuss where Portuguese cuisine stands now, where it might be heading, and why authenticity is less about tradition for tradition's sake than understanding ingredients, context and the way people choose to eat.

At Flamma, fire, skewers and a small intimate space become the framework for Alessandra’s cooking. We talk about how her experience in demanding kitchens shaped the way she cooks today, where a dish begins — memory, texture, technique or emotion — and whether simplicity is something you consciously pursue or something you arrive at with experience.

We talked with Pedro Monteiro, Chef at Tasca Baldracca about pop-ups and the guest-chef wave, what a tasca with a modern twist really means, the real skills behind "simple" dishes, how to win both the hearts and stomachs of locals - and then, somehow, tomatoes can take over menu. And by the way....who is Baldracca after all? Such a warm, easy welcome. Just filming and eating outside on the street made me feel like I belonged - like childhood, when the whole neighborhood was your living room. At one point a backpack flew down from the third floor, bang, and the kid just ran off. The street. Loud. Alive. Deliciously unpretentious.

Segundo Farrell, Chef at La Joya Cantina — talks about the idea behind the restaurant.

La Joya Cantina moves at its own rhythm: steady and assured. In the kitchen there is a grandmother’s Argentine cookbook — still in use. On the table are dishes that feel instantly familiar: the kind of milanesa made with the right cut of meat.

The atmosphere feels like arriving late to a family dinner — someone smiles, shifts a chair, and makes space for you.

Grateful to Segundo Farrell, Aiama Maia, and Alexia Pavlo for sharing their stories and a great time.

A Haven of Quiet Splendor.

​Lisbon hums with life, but at Santa Clara 1728, time slows. Set within an 18th-century building in the city's historic Alfama district, this six-suite sanctuary is more than just a stay—it’s an experience of space, light, and silence.

Designed by Manuel Aires Mateus, the interiors strip away excess, leaving only the essentials: limestone, wood, the warmth of natural textures. Sunlight moves through the high-ceilinged rooms like a quiet guest, tracing patterns on soft linen and wide-plank floors. There are no distractions—only...

It’s my third time returning to Aethos, and certainly not the last. This is my go-to place — a perfect retreat for a weekend stay, indulgent spa rituals, or a leisurely breakfast overlooking the Atlantic’s cinematic splendor. No matter the season — whether the cliffs are cloaked in mist or bathed in sunlight—Aethos always carries its own magic.

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In the background waves crash tirelessly against the rocks below, and the wind hums its ancient melody. The air is rich with the briny scent of salt. With a book in hand and a cup of coffee cradled close, I lose myself in the ocean’s rhythm, cuddled on the terrace. Each sip grounds me, each moment dissolves into pure serenity.

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But Aethos is more than...

As the morning sun rises over Sintra’s hills, you find yourself on the terrace, savoring the quiet magic of a place that feels like a memory you’ve always held but never quite touched. It’s a stay that isn’t just an escape; it’s a rediscovery of something deeply, beautifully familiar.

Between Stone, Light, and Restraint

A former monastery where nothing insists, yet everything stays with you. High ceilings, slow light, the quiet presence of books, and a river that keeps its distance — The Lince Santa Clara is less about escape, more about recalibration. You arrive for a night away, and leave slightly rearranged.

What is contemporary art, and where does it begin? Can it speak for itself, or does true understanding require the lens of history and theory?

For those unfamiliar with contemporary art, navigating museums can feel overwhelming—an aimless wandering between unfamiliar forms and concepts. But what if there were a way to approach it systematically? A mental framework, like a rail for the blind, that helps connect new encounters to a broader understanding? From categorizing art chronologically or thematically to identifying key artists and movements, this piece explores how to make sense of contemporary art, where to start, and how museums and exhibitions shape the way we experience it.