Concealed behind an unassuming entrance within the vibrant Chiado neighborhood of Lisbon lies Das Flores, a quaint café cherished for its simple, yet authentic weekday lunches over an impressive span of 43 years. At the stroke of 11:00, while the cobblestoned street outside begins to bask in the quiet of midday, the interior of Das Flores buzzes with the fervor of preparation. Here, the Fernandes family orchestrates the morning rituals of their tasca—a term endearingly used to describe these unrefined yet utterly captivating Portuguese eateries—gearing up for the impending lunch service.
José Fernandes, the patriarch and visionary behind Das Flores, kickstarts his day before dawn at 05:30, venturing to the local market to handpick the freshest of seafood and meats. Now, back at the café, he finds solace in the simple task of chopping carrots. Meanwhile, Carminda, his wife, supervises the gentle simmer of two large pots on the stove, within them brewing the day’s specials—a heartwarming rabbit dish and a sumptuous seafood rice. Their daughter, Susana, multitasks with ease, managing the cash register and fielding phone calls with a practiced hand.
A visit to Das Flores past the time of 12:15 invariably means waiting for a table, a testament to its popularity. Despite operating with a lean team of three, a modest kitchen with four hobs, and seating for 22, the café consistently serves over 70 meals each lunchtime. José, with a blend of pride and pragmatism, notes, “Preparation is key to ensuring that everything runs smoothly, minimizing waits for our guests.” Tascas, in essence, extend the warmth and familiarity of a Portuguese home, offering meals that forsake grandiosity for the comfort of time-honored simplicity. Amidst the lively ambiance, not quite a celebration but resonating with the joy of a family gathering, Das Flores presents food that embodies simplicity and tradition.
Historically rooted in the communal fabric of Lisbon, tascas like Das Flores were initially established alongside coal shops by Galician immigrants, serving as a hub where wine or beer and small bites were enjoyed alongside the purchase of coal and timber. Through the decades, while ownership transitioned predominantly to Portuguese hands, the soul of these establishments remained untouched. The ambiance within reflects a commitment to affordability and simplicity, with none of the trappings of modern design leaving their imprint. From the outside, their modesty might not catch the eye, with simple paper tablecloths and understated lighting, standing in stark contrast to the polished bistros and gourmet establishments that cater to the city’s tourists.
The kitchen of a tasca is often the domain of the owners themselves, where the absence of formally trained chefs means a focus on the essence of the food over the flourish of presentation.
Change, when it occurs, is measured and organic, with dining areas and kitchen spaces evolving in an ad hoc manner, and successive generations possibly introducing subtle innovations to the menu. Despite the burgeoning food scene and the influx of tourists into Lisbon, the steadfast charm of the tasca tradition continues to hold a special place in the hearts of locals.
By 12:15, Das Flores welcomes its patrons, not as customers, but as extended family members, greeted by their first names, exchanges of kisses, and warm pats on the back. José shares, “We have patrons who are third-generation visitors to Das Flores. For some, reservations are a thing of the past; they have their tables awaiting them.” This sense of community extends beyond mere dining, as patrons engage in lively exchanges, blurring the lines between separate tables.
The clientele of a tasca mirrors the demographic mosaic of its locale. In the commercial heart of Chiado, Das Flores sees a diverse patronage—from elegantly dressed ladies to sharp-suited professionals and government officials from the nearby Ministry of Economy —all finding solace in its unpretentious offerings.
Beyond the confines of Das Flores, the tasca culture thrives in varied expressions across Lisbon. In the Moorish-inflected Aflama district, Ze da Mouraria beckons with its legendary cod, drawing patrons from far and wide, meriting the journey with its generous portions and familial ambiance. Here, Virgilio Oliveira has nurtured a legacy of generosity and warmth, compelling an expansion to accommodate the fervent demand.
While many tascas cling to their traditional roots, others embrace subtle evolutions. In the chic Principe Real, Faz Frio melds the aesthetic of a modern bistro with the soul of a classic tasca, its storied past honored by the city as a historic vendor, preserving its architectural and decorative heritage.
The narrative of Lisbon’s tascas is one of enduring allure and subtle transformation, with newer generations infusing traditional spaces with fresh vitality while respecting their historical essence. Places like Taberna do Sal Gross
What to Eat
There is much more to Portuguese cuisine than cod or sardines. The country mastered nose-to-tail cooking before it caught on in the rest of the world. Here are some tasca classics that are only for the brave.
Iscas: cow’s liver in think strips and served with onions.
Moelas Guisadas: considered a local delicacy, this chicken gizzard stew includes wine, tomatoes and garlic.
Arroz de cabidela: this rice stew acquires its dark hue from being cooked in chickens’ blood.
Caracois: during the summer months most Tascas will put out a sign that reads “Ha Caracois” (we have snails). Often served with salt, oregano and garlic.
Alheira: during the Inquisition Portuguese Jews made this bread and game sausage to disguise their kosher tradition.
Where to Eat
Das Flores: run by the Fernandes family since 1976.
Cantinho do Alfredo: famous for its Thursday stew.
Casa dos Passarinhos: one of the signature dishes is steak cooked on a slab of rock.
Tascardoso: One of the last remaining classic tascas in the trendy Principe Real.
Faz Frio: named for the back door that allowed fugitives to escape during the dictatorship.
