I brushed up my rudimentary Portuguese to ask about the tempting item in the display case at a local confeitaria the other day.
“É um bolo de morango?” Is that a strawberry cake?
The server looked puzzled.
I pointed to the item again. “O vermelho?” The red one.
“No, it’s red velvet,” said the server in perfect English.
Imagine my surprise.
First, to learn that red velvet cake is available in Portugal, where the custardy pastel de nata is the crown jewel of the bakery shelf. I’ve never thought the ruby-colored cake’s appeal went beyond the Mason-Dixon line back in the States.
Next, to see yet another example of how Portuguese people of all professions and stripes switch effortlessly from Portuguese to English and back again. (Witness the 10-year-old school kids who boarded our bus from the pool one recent morning. They spoke English, too. Ten years old!)
Finally, to be reminded again how friendly Portuguese people are. Like the server, who consented to have his photo taken during busy lunchtime service. Though he wouldn’t strike the usual smiling pose for me, he did take a moment to feign some playful outrage, and then go about his business serving other customers … while I salivated at the slice of cake in his tongs.
I have always loved red velvet cake!
The cake story is multi-layered for another reason.
I’ve written frequently about the challenges of moving from Atlanta to Portugal. But for every story of navigating the maze-like bureaucracy here, there are others of how surprisingly easy it has been to adapt to living in Porto.
How life here is not always foreign or different, but often punctuated with moments of startling familiarity.
Like when we heard All That Jazz from the musical Chicago blaring from a loudspeaker for a synchronized swim team’s rehearsal at our swim club. It was so unexpected and beautiful that I nearly cried.
Like finding Sketchers shoes at the local mall.
Old Spice deodorant
Columbia sportswear.
Mentos at practically every checkout counter.
I love finding these little touchstones. Or when they find us.
Sure, there are a few things I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. Like egg yolks frequently topping meat, mushroom and vegetable dishes. And when it comes to clothing, there is the little matter of flyless men’s underwear … a not-exactly-familiar characteristic of life in these parts.
But that’s another story.
Back to the red velvet cake.
Recipes for the confection are plentiful.
Here’s one for O Bolo Red Velvet from a lovely Portuguese cooking site. With an interesting anecdote about how the cake earned worldwide fame. Thank you, Steel Magnolias, for making a beloved dessert from “the old country” available just down the street from our new home in Porto.
(Though I suspect the cake’s popularity has more to do with its make-do roots than its Hollywood connection. If budget-strapped cooks can’t afford a chocolate cake or don’t have a sufficient quantity of cocoa available, make red velvet instead! So many Portuguese recipes with tripe, chicken giblets and even pig’s ears start with this very “use everything, use what you have” philosophy.)
You can even find red velvet cake in the bakery section at Continente, the Publix-like chain of grocery stores here.
Complete with recipe. Which Google should easily translate to whatever language you prefer.
Happy eating, and may your underwear always fit comfortably.
Cheers from beautiful Porto!
P.S. I served the cake with blueberries and sliced strawberries, as pictured in the photos above. It was heaven (or should I say home?) on a plate. A dollop of coconut yogurt is a nice addition, too, or plain yogurt, with a tang that complements the buttermilk or vinegar used in a traditional red velvet cake.
Mike Coleman 