Evora, Portugal
“There is no menu. We will just bring out various courses of traditional Portuguese dishes.”
So out came a parade of dishes. It started with the nibbles: olives, and jamon, cheese with jam, and a refreshing cold soup.
Followed by heartier small dishes including fish empanada, stew of pig feet, and a lengua sandwich.
The mains included a duck rice dish, slow-cooked black pork, various vegetables and mushrooms.
And the dessert platter consisted of a sorbet, fruit, and a flan.
It was all very delightful.
And all very Spanish.
*
Similarities between Spain and Portugal shouldn’t come as a surprise. After all, at different points in history, they were one and the same country. They were part of the same Roman Hispania province, then again they were unified under Philip II in the 1500s. Throughout history, their royals married each other.
Now, even as 2 separate countries, they share the same religion, the same Iberian land with its flora, fauna and animals, the same surrounding waters, the same climate.
*
However, there is a palpable difference between the two.
Spain, I would describe, has edge.
Her people are intense and fiery.
The language is impassioned; it strikes the ear roughly. Almost angry, always making a point.
Spain has a cultural RBF (resting bitch face). She comes off aloof until you beg and plead for years to make her like you.
Spain is proud. She will have dinner at 11 pm just because she wants to.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the border in Portugal, the difference is immediately visible.
The Spanish landscape of austere scorched flatlands, grain warehouses, and endless rows of solar panels give way to rolling green hills dotted with age-old cork trees. Wild flowers abloom where they can.
As with its docile landscape, there is a certain softness to Portugal.
Her people are gentle. And smiley. And calm.
They are your instant best friends.
Her language, too, has a lilt, a soft susurration.
And she eats dinner at 8pm because she is agreeable.
*
As the two Iberian kids, there is also a certain dynamic in their relationship.
If I dared, I’d say Spain is like the older sibling — the ambitious one with her sights far outside her backyard. She wants to join the cool kids out yonder. She’s busy achieving and doesn’t spend time thinking about what her younger sibling is doing.
Portugal is the agreeable younger kid. Relaxed, going about her business with far less ambition, but always peering over her shoulder at any aggressive moves from Spain.