It’s said that in these parts of the Alentejo, the best porco preto (“black pork”) is served in a town named Arronches, not far from Portalegre. We’ve come to love the sweet and savory taste of this pork … when well prepared. If not, it’s just another Portuguese dish.

Arronches is about 45 minutes from our home in Vila Boim, Elvas. We’ve passed by the place when visiting friends who live in the nearby village of Assumar; but we’ve never been to Arronches.

Today we went.

During this time of the year, many villages, towns, and cities in Portugal hold their own special ferias–holiday fairs. Somewhere online I’d seen that Arronches would be celebrating this weekend.

“Want to go?” I asked Russ earlier this week.

“Sure!” he replied. “Let’s see if we can finally find a good restaurant to try the porco preto.”

I searched on TripAdvisor and a bunch of other sites dedicated to recommending restaurants. On every single one of them, A Cabana (The Cabin) came up as #1 … with hundreds of 5★ and far fewer 4★ reviews. Its atmosphere was described as “romantic” (we found it charming and adorable) with prices ranging from € (Facebook) to €€-€€€ (TripAdvisor). Based on our tab, I’d say TripAdvisor is more accurate. In a way, the digs reminded me of a restaurant with the same name (The Cabin) on the outskirts of Sturgeon Bay, WI.

A Cabana doesn’t have its own website, but it does have a Facebook page. On Thursday, I messaged them to make a reservation for the two of us at 1:30 PM (13:30) on Saturday. We figured that would give us enough time to visit the fair and then eat a hearty meal early enough. Within five minutes — I kid you not! — I had a response: “combinado!” (confirmed).

Unless you’re an expat or immigrant living in Portugal, you can’t understand how unusual (even rare!) it is to receive a reply to one’s email or message here. The Portuguese tend to ignore them. You’re better off telephoning or stopping by.

Two thumbs up for A Cabana!

We arrived in Arronches at about 11:45 (AM), only to find ourselves lost in space. GPS and Google Maps were no help. Russ thought that the fair would be held in the “campo” (countryside), while I distinctly remember reading something about it being held in a pavilion. Before going around the bends another time, I asked Russ to pull off so that I could ask a local for information.

“Isn’t today a holiday in Arronches? Where can we find the fair grounds?” I asked a gentle giant of a man with a beard who nodded “yes” and pointed down the road … “Just continue going down this street until you come to he,” he said.

Russ turned to me before driving down the street to tell me, “He looks familiar. I think he might be the chef at A Cabana.”

Driving downhill, we finally approached the site. Amazing–there was plenty of parking! Very unusual in Portugal … especially when something of general interest is happening.

We soon understood why:

The only activity occurring at the fairgrounds when we arrived was a sheep competition. Nothing else. Not even the dozens of stalls selling food and souvenirs were open, let alone live music. It all would begin later that evening.

“What do you want to do?” Russ asked me.

“Let’s go to the restaurant and see if they’ll take us earlier,” I suggested. “That way, we can get an earlier start on doing some shopping we’d planned at E LeClerc, along with filling the car with GPL (liquefied gas) and washing it.

A bunch of people of all ages were already queuing up outside the restaurant, whose front door was open but nobody was inside. I approached the owner-chef-waiter — who, indeed, was the helpful man who’d given us directions earlier! — and asked if we could change our reservation to now rather than later. “Of course,” he said, pointing to the first of four tables for four. Behind them, in a row against the back wall, all of the tables were pulled together to accommodate 22 people … including those waiting outside, and then some.

“We understand that you make the best porco preto in town,” I told him while we both were standing in front of the chalk board where the menu was written.

He smiled broadly and recommended both the “secretos” (secrets) plate for €20 and the “plumas” (feathers) dish for €23. We ordered one of each, which came with salads and the best fried potatoes (“crisps,” per our British friends) we’d had in a while–super thin yet crispy, without any soggy orphans left behind. To go with our food, I had (two) glasses of tinto wine and Russ had (two) steins of beer.

It suddenly occurred to me that the maitre d was responding to my questions in Spanish, not Portuguese, although I was doing my best to speak coherent Portuguese. ¿No é portugues? (aren’t you Portuguese?) I asked him. “Sim, claro” (Yes, of course), he replied. “Then, why are you talking Spanish to me?” I asked in Portuguese. “I thought you were Spanish, he grinned.” It must have been my accent, One lesson I’ve learned since living in this western part of Iberia is always to speak Portuguese … to never initiate a conversation in Spanish, assuming the Portuguese understand it.

Anyway, everything was delicious!

The food, the service, the atmosphere were all extraordinary. (We personally preferred the plumas — cut thickly, parts cooked medium, others medium-rare to perfection — over the secretos.)

Of special note to us — who spend two months in Portugal and one month in Spain — was how relatively quiet and civilized the table of 22 behind us was. In Spain, you’d never be able to hear yourself think with that many people clustered together.

Our bill came to less than sixty euros. Although I tend to cringe when food here in Portugal costs that much, I reminded myself that we’d be gone from the USA for six years already. Who knew how much a meal like this would cost in a place like Sturgeon Bay?

Probably lots more.

Whatever …

It was well worth it!

P.S. If you plan to eat at A Cabina, remember to bring cash. The restaurant doesn’t accept plastic — credit or debit cards — although it does honor MB Way.

Pastor, professor, publisher, and journalist Bruce H. Joffe is an award-winning author of magazine features, academic research, journal articles, self-help manuals, and newspaper stories. His nine books deal with international (intercultural) living, progressive theology, gender studies, “social” politics, our vulnerabilities, marketing, and the media.