A hidden gem in Lisbon has captured the hearts and taste buds of Chinese tourists, who embark on epic journeys to experience this unique culinary delight.
Nestled in the unassuming Travessa da Tapada, a street that could easily be overlooked amidst Lisbon's beauty, lies a humble churrasqueira run by António Silva, a 66-year-old master of his craft. Behind a nondescript green door, Silva works his magic, tending to a bed of glowing embers and spatchcocked chickens, creating a mouthwatering aroma that lingers in the air.
Each day, a steady stream of tourists, many from China, make their way to this unmarked address, number 5A. They stand in line, bundled up in quilted coats, eager to capture the scene through the fogged window - Silva's skilled hands, the sizzling grill, and the chickens themselves. And then, they get to taste the fruit of his labor, a smoky, salty, and gently sweet roast chicken, served in a simple white paper bag.
The chicken's flavor profile is a masterpiece - first, the charred skin with a hint of charcoal, then the salty and sweet seasoning, and finally, the piri-piri heat that builds and lingers. It's a taste sensation that has people traveling thousands of miles.
But how did this quiet street become a tourist destination? Silva believes it started with a single Chinese customer, who then told others, and the word spread like wildfire. Soon, his shop became a must-visit spot on Chinese travel lists, and the line formed.
"I only noticed it like that," Silva says, describing how the line grew and eventually became a wave of Chinese tourists. "Sometimes I have 40 Chinese people at the door." He recalls a man with a video camera, spending hours filming the shop, possibly a Chinese influencer, who helped put this small backstreet on the international map.
These days, visitors arrive straight from the airport, some with suitcases in tow, guided by concierges on the phone. Inside, they use translator apps to communicate with Silva, often telling him what he already knows - that he's famous in China. But Silva remains humble, not active on social media, and his shop operates without delivery platforms or modern payment methods.
His premises are tiny, a narrow corridor lined with shelves of wine, soda, pickles, and potatoes. Every corner is stacked with boxes, and on the wall, you'll find a crucifix, a calendar, a Portuguese flag, and a clock. It's a far cry from the glamorous world of social media, but it's this authenticity that draws people in.
Silva's day starts early, long before the tourists arrive. He walks from his nearby home, opens the door for suppliers, and then begins the tedious task of cleaning away yesterday's grease. "At night, I can't clean; it's too hot and dark, and I'm tired," he explains.
As the day progresses, the grill comes to life, and so do the neighborhood's appetites. At 11:30 a.m., Silva starts grilling, and the chickens start flying out. Then, the Chinese tourists arrive, and Silva is ready with his Mandarin counting sheet and a few key phrases to keep the line moving.
His rudimentary linguistics bring a smile to the tourists' faces, as they feel recognized and appreciated. "If you ordered, you can come here, and I will give it to you right away, even if it's full of Chinese people," Silva says, prioritizing his regulars and those who ordered ahead.
The ingredients are fresh, and Silva's commitment to quality can sometimes cost him. He recalls a customer who pre-ordered a chicken but never showed up, and he had to absorb the loss. Despite this, he still gave away an uncollected chicken to another customer later that day, a small act of kindness that speaks volumes.
And then there's the seasoning - a secret recipe perfected years ago, which Silva won't reveal. "It's been the same since '79, '80," he says, emphasizing the importance of time and preparation in letting the flavors permeate the chickens.
As the day goes on, the line outside the green door remains steady. Silva works tirelessly, his smoldering charcoal settling into the grill, the smoke shifting as if the shop is taking a deep breath. Chickens lie over the heat, their skins crackling, and fat drips down, creating more smoke. It's a mesmerizing dance of flavors and aromas.
Most Chinese visitors are guided by posts on Xiaohongshu, a TikTok-style platform, where users rave about Silva's churrasqueira. Tony and Elena, a couple with a taste for authentic local food, prefer it over Michelin-level dining. Wang, on his second visit, appreciates the seasoning and the familiar flavors. Vince and Alice, a Chinese couple living in the US, were led here by the app, and Li Mei, from Shanghai, came on the recommendation of a colleague.
When these satisfied customers return home, they pass on the same advice - "There's grilled chicken in a tiny place in Lisbon, you have to go." And so, the recommendation spreads, like the aroma of Silva's chickens, traveling across the world.
But what will happen when Silva retires in May? His sons have no interest in taking over the shop, and the grills may eventually burn out. Will the aroma of his famous chickens disappear with them? Only time will tell, but for now, Silva keeps going, serving up delicious memories to those who make the journey to his humble churrasqueira.
