The 25 seats at this restaurant are some of the most-coveted in town. The shared plates and chalkboard menu are all part of the movimento taberneiro, the city’s modern tavern revival. They suggest five dishes for three diners, but you’ll be tempted to try at least 10. Depending on the season, there’s pickled rabbit in escabeche, iscas á Portuguesa (liver steaks), cod cakes, cod confit, lamb stew, oxtail, and more. By the time dinner ends, a range of self-service liqueurs ends up on the table.

When Zé Paulo Rocha was a baby in the late 1990s, he used to sleep on top of a chest freezer in his parents’ tasca. Now he has a tasca of his own, where a blackboard menu lists the day’s dishes. Bestsellers include a very good bacalhau à Brás, iscas de cebolada (pork liver), and a recipe Zé Paulo took from his mother, rancho à Minhota, a regional stew made with different meats, pasta, and chickpeas. Her leite creme (crème brûlée) sums up this new era of tascas: giving old recipes new life.

Few of Lisbon’s many Brazilian restaurants specialize in the dishes of Bahia, or Brazil’s predominantly Black northeast. Carol Alves de Brito quips that her little spot selling acarajé in Bairro Alto is the unofficial “Embassy of Bahia.” Acarajé are crispy fritters made from black-eyed peas – and a heritage-rich snack of Bahia. Carol turns hers into a zingy, tasty meal, cutting them in half and stuffing with items like deep-fried shrimp and vatapá, a rich paste of nuts, coconut milk, and ginger.

When chefs Diogo Meneses and Carlos Pinheiro took over O Buraquinho, the previous owners taught the young partners the recipes before passing on their aprons. The arroz de gambas, the shrimp rice that is often served on Tuesdays, is a flavorful stock packed with herbs and pepper and covered with enough shrimp to feed two hungry mouths. Other daily specials include filetes de peixe-galo com arroz de grelos (pan-fried John Dory with turnip green rice) and bochechas de porco (braised pork cheeks).

A three-floor Angolan cultural association in Rato, at ground level there’s a charming restaurant with a few tables draped in colorful kanga fabric and walls decorated with maps, paintings, and photos of Luanda. Under chef Paulo Soares’s eye, the kitchen reproduces the best of Angola, with a choice order being peito alto, a meat stew accompanied by okra and funge. A kind of creamy polenta made mainly from cassava, funge became a classic element of Angolan gastronomy as a result of colonization.

Chef João Rodrigues’s restaurant is all about its fresh ingredients. Lunchtime offers a local vibe and features two daily specials at a reasonable price, always traditional dishes without any twists. The green bean soup is one of several in a stellar soup rotation. On Thursdays, there’s a fantastic cozido à portuguesa (a traditional Portuguese stew with sausage). In other dishes, vegetables take center stage, such as the leeks with vinaigrette, honey and pine nuts. Reservations recommended.

30-year-old chef António Galapito has seduced Lisbon with his first spot. Housed in a former factory, the soaring ceilings elevate each meal. The locavore menu brims with vegetables and seafood, with seemingly simple dishes made with lots of technique. For dessert, the acorn ice cream takes the gold medal. As does the natural, organic Portuguese wine list. Their shop next door is a dream for foodies and picnic-goers.

One of Portugal’s best markets is just an hour south of Lisbon in Setúbal. The district’s parishes are the source of some of the country’s most prized products, and here you’ll find a hangar-like space consisting of neat marble rows that can accommodate as many as 350 vendors of produce, dried goods, baked goods, dairy products, meat, and seafood. We especially love grabbing local queijo de Azeitão, a rich, barely sweet, soft cheese, as well as torta de Azeitão, Setúbal’s most-famous sweet.

A relic of 1960s counter culture, Galeto still hums with a frenetic energy, its zigzagging counters telling tales of late-night bohemians and hurried bites after the theater. Opened by Portuguese immigrants returning from Rio, Galeto aimed to bring Brazilian galeto (grilled chicken) to the masses. But Lisboetas, it turned out, were more smitten with bife à Galeto – a steak and egg marvel that remains a house specialty.