A Francesinha Night in Porto

The francesinha is what happens when a homesick emigrant tries to recreate a French croque monsieur in a country where moderation is not really a culinary virtue. The story goes that a man named Daniel da Silva came back from years in France and Belgium in the 1950s, took the basic idea of two slices of bread around ham and cheese, and then absolutely refused to stop adding things. The result is a sandwich, technically, in the same way a cathedral is technically a building.

A proper francesinha is built around thick white bread layered with steak, fresh sausage, smoked sausage, sometimes ham, all of it sealed under a thick blanket of melted cheese. Then it gets baptised in the sauce, and the sauce is the part every restaurant lies about. Tomato, beer, piri piri, a bit of broth, often a splash of port, and a long list of secret ingredients that the cook will smile about and never tell you. Some places add a fried egg on top. Most serve it with a small mountain of crisp fries half submerged in the sauce, which exists mainly to soak it up.

Where to try it depends on the kind of mood you want. Café Santiago in the centre is the safe famous choice, busy and bright, with sauce on the sweet side. Capa Negra II is heavier and older school, and tends to be where porto locals quietly send their visiting cousins. Cervejaria Brasão has the version that food writers seem to agree is the most balanced, with a sauce that does not bury everything else. If you want a softer, more modern take, Lado B in Cedofeita is the move.

A few survival rules. Do not order one alone unless you have skipped lunch. Do not pair it with wine, this is a beer dish, a cold imperial of Super Bock or Sagres is the right answer. Do not expect to do anything athletic for several hours afterwards. And do not start a debate about whose sauce is the best in front of more than two locals, unless you are prepared to be in the same conversation for the rest of the night.