thebestpossibletime

What I ate in Lisbon

11/04/2025 Lauren (thebestpossibletime.com)Leave a comment

Last month, I spent a week in Lisbon with my husband and my parents. It was a great way for us all to meet up, visit a new city, and for the most part (barring one two-hour torrential downpour) get a break from the dreariness of Irish winter.

It was also a GREAT place to eat — as we spent the week consuming our bodyweights in pastéis de nata, Lisbon quickly became one of my new favourite food cities. Here are some of my favourite dishes we had while we were there.

Two notes:

1. A lot of the restaurants in Lisbon are family-style, so it was nice that we were a group of four so that we could share and try more dishes. Likewise, it was nice for my husband that my dad also eats meat (my mom and I are both pescatarian) — while they were both willing to stick to fish and vegetarian dishes, they were able to try some of the meat dishes like the pica pau steak that they might’ve missed out on otherwise.

2. This is not a list of “hidden gems.” One of my travel content pet peeves is when someone goes to a place for the first time, and then comes back a week later claiming to have gotten “off the beaten path” and found the “hidden gems” where “only the locals go.” Is it possible? I guess. But if you’ve gotten your recommendations from No Reservations and Somebody Feed Phil and Instagram reels (as I did), then no, you probably didn’t. And that’s okay. Just be a tourist.

Pastéis on pastéis on pastéis

On our first day, Steve and I kicked things off with the most touristy place possible: the Time Out Market. This massive food hall is full of bars, restaurants, and kiosks selling all kinds of Portuguese foods (and other cuisines as well). When we went, we made a beeline for the pastéis de nata at Manteigaria, which pretty much set the tone for the trip (I don’t think there was a day that we didn’t eat at least one pastel).

Later in the week, we took a trip out to Belém, where pastéis originated. I think that the pastéis in Belém were crispier and slightly more eggy than the ones in the city, and I loved both in different ways. Mostly, I learned that the best way to eat them is fresh out of the oven and covered in cinnamon and powdered sugar.

Swimming in seafood

As a city on the water, Lisbon is famous for its seafood, and we certainly had no shortage of amazing fish and shellfish dishes. Here were a couple of standouts:

Carabineros shrimp at Ramiro

There was one restaurant that was mentioned in pretty much every guide to Lisbon food I read and watched in the lead up to our trip: Ramiro. I’d heard you need to prepare for a long wait, but we skipped lunch and to plan for an early dinner and were seated pretty much right away. When we asked the server what we should order in addition to our own picks, she suggested the scarlet shrimp. A giant, lobster-like crustacean that the server prepared at the table by cutting in half and mixing the meat with the creature’s brains, it sounds a bit gross but we quickly got over any squeamishness once we tasted how delicious it was.

Sardine toasts at Miguel Castro e Silva, Time Out Market

These sardine toasts were so good we got them two days in a row (my parents arrived a day after Steve and I, so we went back to Time Out Market on day 2 as well). Big, meaty chunks of sardines topped soft yet crusty bread rubbed with tomatoes, and the fish was covered with pickled vegetables and herbs. A simple, delicious snack that went perfectly with a glass of dry white wine.

Laminas de polvo a lagariero at Tascatinga

I don’t eat octopus very often because I know it’s a very smart animal and I feel bad, but I couldn’t help ordering it as one of the tapas when we stopped for lunch in Sintra in between palaces. And if I don’t intend to eat octopus again for a long time (because of the aforementioned guilt and because of it not being widely available in Ireland), I’m glad this will be my most recent memory. It was perfectly cooked, mostly tender but with just the right amount of chewiness, and covered in fried onions that gave it some extra texture.

Grilled sea bream at Restaurante A Linete, Palmela

My family is not normally the guided tour type, but we did book one day tour on our trip, a wine tour down to the Setúbal region about an hour south of Lisbon. It was definitely worth having a knowledgable guide who could explain the history and traits of the wines we tasted, and of course to have a designated driver that meant we could all sample the vinhos. After our winery visits, we were taken to a restaurant in Palmela for lunch before our return to Lisbon, and on our guide’s recommendation we all ordered the grilled sea bream. I think the main hallmark of Portuguese cooking is simple food done well, and this dish was a perfect example of that.

More food porn

I could probably go on for hours talking about some of the other dishes I loved on our trip to Lisbon, but a picture’s worth a thousand words, right?

Cheese board, Prado wine bar — this lovely little wine bar was near our accommodation, and after a day spent grazing and snacking we were too full for a proper dinner. So this delicious cheese board (and a few glasses of amazing orange wine) was perfect. We also became obsessed with a raw sheep’s milk cheese called queijo de azeitão that just came from the local supermarket chain, Pingo Doce.

Barnacles (and scallops), Ramiro — a lot of the reviews of Ramiro mentioned the barnacles, so we figured we had to try them. Small and salty, they were a little bit of an acquired taste, but once we got the hang of opening them they were a delicious addition to the dinner and a fun thing to try. Also those scallops were amazing.

Pumpkin dessert, Tascatinga — another odd dish ordered based on rave reviews, I don’t even know quite how to describe this dessert. It was a bit like a lava cake, except that as soon as you put your spoon into it, it melts in to a warm and custardy mush. I have no idea if it’s a traditional Portuguese dish or a restaurant specialty, but I’m so glad I made room for dessert even after a large lunch.

Bifana, O Trevo — Anthony Bourdain is Steve and my patron saint of good food, and we always try to visit some of his recommendations on any trip. In addition to Ramiro, A Ginjinha (a hole-in-the-wall bar counter serving sour cherry liqueur), and A Tasca do Chico (a tapas bar known for its traditional Fado music) we stopped into O Trevo so Steve could try a bifana. This marinated pork sandwich wouldn’t be my cup of tea, but judging by the number of people in high-vis at the tables in this small shop, it’s an ideal work lunch. The Super Bock stout was decent too… more on that later.

Fried sardine fillets at Maratimo, Cascais and various dishes at Pinóquio, Lisbon and seafood rice at Monte Mar, Time Out Market — okay I have to stop but here were a few other favourites. Happy eating!

Book Review: Blood on Her Tongue by Johanna van Veen

25/03/2025 Lauren (thebestpossibletime.com)Leave a comment

Happy publication day to Blood on Her Tongue! Johanna van Veen’s My Darling Dreadful Thing was one of my favourite horror debuts I’ve read in a while — delightfully gothic and romantic and gruesome — so to say that I was excited about snagging an advance reader’s copy of Blood on Her Tongue may be an understatement. Thanks very much to the author, Netgalley, and Poisoned Pen Press for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Where does one end and another begin? This is the question this novel asks repeatedly. Where does Lucy end and her twin sister Sarah begin? Where does Sarah end and the thing she has become begin? And where does love end, where does family end, where does duty and morality and desire and… where does the horror begin?

I went in expecting a vampire story thanks to the Dracula epigraphs, the protagonist’s name, etc. and Blood on Her Tongue does certainly have vampiric elements. But it’s also much more, an intriguing blend of horror elements from the natural horror of death and decay to something decidedly supernatural. I loved the super evocative imagery, gruesome often to the point of grossness (the pen! the eyes!), and as someone who lives in rural Ireland I found it easy to call to mind the smell of the peat and the sucking thickness of the bogs, but I think even if you’re not familiar I think you would be able to imagine it based on van Veen’s writing.

Lucy is a fascinating protagonist. She’s not a nice person; she’s obsessive and greedy and haughty and her relationship with her sister is nothing short of toxic, and yet she’s so compelling. Sarah, too, is equally riveting. Even though so much of the action in the first half of the novel takes place around her, her presence is key and her perspective, as told through her letters and journal entries, rounds out the setting and the wonderfully creepy gothic atmosphere so well. And when she (or someone) starts to really take the stage, well. It takes talent to do a good exposition scene, and there’s one around halfway through this novel that’s particularly good, managing to build the tension while delivering a lot of information about the nature of the being that has gotten its grips into Sarah.

There are some great layers to the plot that also help to build the overall world of this 19th Century Dutch manor and its inhabitants. Early on, the men in the novel are quick to dismiss the sisters’ fears as mistakes or madness, and although the women’s violent actions in the latter half of the book certainly aren’t out of any sort of feminist intentions, Arthur’s and Michael’s paternalistic mindsets do bring an interesting element to the story, although as characters they are far less developed than Lucy, Sarah, or even some of the other minor characters such as Magda the serving woman.

Overall, I think I enjoyed this even more than My Darling Dreadful Thing (although I seriously loved that one as well). Toxic codependence will always be a favourite horror trope of mine, especially when it leads to devastating consequences, and it’s so well executed here along with an exquisitely-crafted story that grows the creeping, unsettling tension to a truly disturbing climax. Van Veen has quickly been added to my list of the authors whose work I will eagerly devour (ha) as soon as I see it.

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Just be a tourist

20/03/2025 Lauren (thebestpossibletime.com)Leave a comment

I see it all the time in travel groups, on instagram reels, in the comments of blogs and articles. “How do I avoid looking like a tourist?” “Where do I meet the locals?” “How can I get off the beaten path?” “Places to eat that aren’t touristy?”

To an extent, I understand these desires. Most people don’t want to be shunted around from place to place, talking only to other visitors at only the most overrated of tourist traps while sticking out like sore thumbs from the locals going about their days.

(Some people do, if the folks wearing matching bright green, shamrock-adorned “Smith Family Vacation” tee-shirts coming off the massive tour buses around town every morning when I’m on my way to work are any indication, but that’s their business)

And sure, there’s something to be said for not immediately being identified as someone who doesn’t know the area, especially if you’re somewhere susceptible to scams or pick-pocketers.

But whenever I see someone asking for recommendations for non-touristy locales to visit on especially their first trip to Ireland (or another country), or how to blend in with the locals, I just want to say: “You are a tourist! Just be a tourist!”

*Is Killarney National Park “touristy”? Sure. But it’s also gorgeous – why would you skip it?*

When someone asks what they should do on their first-ever trip to Ireland, I don’t shy away from recommending things like the Guinness Storehouse or the Ring of Kerry. The closest things I recommend to “off the beaten path” are probably places like Glasnevin Cemetery, Newgrange, and the Aran Islands, which all still see plenty of visitors but aren’t immediately at the forefront of every tourist’s mind.

I don’t even discourage them from visiting Temple Bar (although I do tell them to go for one pint max and a bit of atmosphere, then head elsewhere for better, cheaper pints). Just like if someone is visiting New York City for the first time, I will take them to Times Square. Although I’ll hate every minute of it, it’s Times Square; you have to go and see the ridiculous array of neon lights and the even more ridiculous crowds once (and only once).

*I didn’t have a picture of Times Square handy but I did go see the tree at Rockafeller Plaza over Christmas, which is similar vibes*

I recently spent a week in Lisbon with my parents and my husband (more on this soon). Did we visit the Castelo de São Jorge and take a day trip to Sintra? Definitely. Did we eat pastéis de nata at Pastéis de Belém and bacalhau croquettes at the Time Out Market? You betcha. Did we queue for an hour to listen to fado at A Tasca do Chico? 100%. Are these all super-touristy things to do? Yes, but we were tourists!

If you fall in love with a place and you visit it over and over, you’re not going to want to go to the same tourist hotspots. What I would recommend to someone visiting Ireland for the tenth time is not the same thing I’d recommend to someone visiting for the first. If (when) I go back to Lisbon, I won’t do the same things I did the first time.

But some of that comes naturally — as you get to know a place you discover things on your own, rather than relying on blogs and social media to guide you. Sometimes on your very first trip you stumble upon something wonderful and “off the beaten path,” but if not on vacation number one than surely on future visits.

So, as long as you’re not rude or boorish, don’t worry about “being a tourist.” Worry about enjoying your trip, enjoying yourself, and if you love it, looking forward to exploring more next time.

Thinking about the catharsis of the Hadestown gasp

05/03/202504/03/2025 Lauren (thebestpossibletime.com)Leave a comment

I was listening to Hadestown the other day (and feeling jealous of anyone who got to see the OBC on the West End this week… even though I also saw the OBC plus a few truly exceptional understudies a few years ago) and thinking about the Hadestown gasp.

If you don’t know what the Hadestown gasp is, it’s — spoilers ahead for the show and the more-than-2000-year-old Greek myth — the audience reaction when Orpheus turns back to look for Eurydice as she follows him out of Hell, breaking the deal he made with Hades and dooming her to return to the underworld.

For those who don’t know the story, it’s a shocking moment in the musical, even though it is foreshadowed in the opening number: It’s a love song / (It’s a love song) / It’s a tale of love from long ago / It’s a sad song / (It’s a sad song) / But we’re gonna sing it even so. It’s inevitable that, at every performance, there is a gasp in the audience when Orpheus looks back.

But it’s not just from first-timers, or for those who don’t know the story. I’ve only seen Hadestown once, but I knew the myth it was based on going in, and I still gasped. And even knowing this particular iteration of the story apparently isn’t defense enough when plenty of audience members who have seen the show multiple times have commented that they, too, still gasp every time.

And when the reprise of the opening number comes near the end of the show, it comments on this, too: See, someone’s got to tell the tale / Whether or not it turns out well / Maybe it will turn out this time

There has to be an element of hope in tragedy or there’s no point. Romeo and Juliet isn’t one of the most performed plays of all time because we love to watch foolish teenagers die — some part of us has to believe that maybe, maybe they won’t be star-crossed and their their plot will work out just this once.

To quote one of the title characters in my favorite play of all time, Tom Stoppard’s riff on another of Shakespeare’s oft-performed tragedies: “There must have been a moment, at the beginning, where we could have said—no. But somehow we missed it […] Well, we’ll know better next time.”

If you know Hamlet then of course you know that there is no next time for Guildenstern (or is it Rosencranz?) but there must have been a moment—no. But you have to believe there might be. A story can be unrelentingly miserable and still be a good piece of art, and some stories have no choice but to be hopeless, but these aren’t the ones we revisit over and over.

It’s part of the catharsis that has been discussed as an element of theatrical tragedy since the Ancient Greek times that first birthed the Orpheus and Eurydice story. Those slivers of hope are what allow us to empathize with what we are watching on stage (or reading, or seeing on screen, as it is not solely limited to theatre). And our empathy allows us to vicariously feel our emotions through the story, and feel that catharsis through the tragedy.

Kurt Vonnegut wrote in Slaughterhouse-Five about another age-old character who couldn’t help but look back when she wasn’t supposed to: “And Lot’s wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human.”

Maybe there’s a life lesson here, I don’t know, but what I do know is that Orpheus must look back, and we must be shocked. If ever there comes a time that no one reacts, then there is no point anymore to the story being told. But I don’t think that will happen, soon or ever. Someone, at least one person, will continue to hope, and he will continue to shatter that hope, through no fault of his own, but because that’s the way the story goes.

It’s a sad song, and we’re gonna sing it again.

Book Review: Hungerstone by Kat Dunn

01/03/202527/02/2025 Lauren (thebestpossibletime.com)Leave a comment

I was thrilled to receive an ARC of Hungerstone by Kat Dunn back in January. It was published a few weeks ago and I strongly recommend picking up a copy at your favourite indie bookstore or local library!

“Who would I be if I was someone who wanted things?”

I only read J. Sheridan Le Fanu’s Carmilla a few years ago, and I can’t believe I hadn’t done so sooner. The 1870s vampire novella pre-dates Bram Stoker’s Dracula by several decades and is beloved for its enigmatic, seductive title character and her relationship to the young woman upon whose hospitality — and more — the vampire woman preys.

Although Carmilla is not explicitly queer, understandable given its era, there is an undeniable sexual tension simmering just beneath the surface of her friendship with Laura, and therefore it is no surprise that Kat Dunn’s Hungerstone is not the first overtly sapphic retelling of or novel inspired by the vampire classic. But, in my opinion, it belongs at the top of the list.

In Hungerstone, Laura is named Lenore, and she is not an innocent teenager living a solitary existence with her widower father, but the mistress of an estate purchased with her handsome businessman husband Henry. Something is rotten in the state of Nethershaw, however; Lenore is tasked with revitalizing the crumbling manor even as her marriage falls into a state of disrepair.

Theirs was a marriage of convenience, Lenore bringing to it a prestigious lineage but no wealth, Henry offering money but relying on his wife to build his reputation; of course, a heir is essential to solidify Henry’s new standing in society, and by a decade into their marriage it is clear that there will be no child added to their family.

Resentful of and resented by her husband, and yet believing that she must endure her unfulfilled existence in order to exist at all, Lenore might have continued on in this unhappy marriage were it not for the arrival — via a startling carriage accident — of Carmilla Kernstein.

Beautiful, mysterious, uninhibited — Carmilla immediately shakes up life at Nethershaw. As Carmilla draws her under her spell, Lenore is forced to confront her secrets, her fears, and, most importantly, her desires. In some ways, Carmilla acts as the embodiment of Lenore’s inner self, saying the rude yet true things that Lenore will not dare to say, criticizing that which should be criticized, and goading Lenore into indulging in her cravings. This is the story of an awakening in more ways than one, not only of Lenore’s sexuality but also of her independence.

“What is a monster but a creature of agency?” Lenore muses, as she begins to take her life into her own hands to secure her future. As the novel hurtles toward its horrifying, violent climax, the events going on at Nethershaw get more bizarre, more uncanny, Lenore begins to liberate herself from the expectations placed upon her and embrace the strangeness of the happenings, and the beguiling, dangerous woman who brought them there.

The writing in Hungerstone is excellent, perfectly suited to its premise and setting. Sex, violence, and hunger form a triumvirate of themes, with so much overlap between how they are described, and that melding of fears and desires is so fantastically and unsettlingly on display here. From the eerie way Carmilla haunts Lenore in both thought and body, to the gory, brutal scenes of carnage, the novel is full of vivid imagery and visceral feelings.

I love that Hungerstone feels like both a fresh take on a classic story and genre, and like a suitable tribute to the same. Equal parts revulsion and seduction, this is a novel I won’t soon be able to cast out of my mind, much as Lenore couldn’t banish Carmilla from hers.

Many, many thanks to Kat Dunn, Zando, and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review; I feasted on this novel.

Final note: the line “I ate paprika on my tour, and I didn’t care for it” made me laugh. Despite their shared experiences in the company of vampires, Lenore definitely would not get along with my bestie Jonathan Harker.

A Perfect, Bookish Day in Galway

27/02/2025 Lauren (thebestpossibletime.com)Leave a comment

I was up at a hotel just outside of Galway last Friday for a union meeting (join a union!) and because it was on a Friday and I was staying overnight anyway, I decided to book a second night at a B&B close to town and spend Saturday visiting some of my favorite places from when I used to live there. Luck was on my side and the Saturday was absolutely beautiful and sunny — and if you know Galway, you know just how lucky that is.

But if you’re taking a trip up, whether for Cúirt International Festival of Literature in April (and if you are, I’m jealous!) or just for a visit, you can have a great day whether it’s sunny and warm or windy and lashing rain, because you can spend your day exploring the wonderful bookshops (and pubs) of Galway. Here’s my recommended itinerary for a lovely and literary day in Galway city:

We’ll start the morning with a choose-your-own-adventure moment. If you’re staying east of the city, where many of the larger hotels are, then start your day at Kennys Bookshop. You can also walk out to Kennys from the city (about a 30 minute walk from Eyre Square, but if you have to hop in the car anyway, this is a good time for a visit as the walk isn’t particularly scenic — and if it’s sunny, you’ll want to save your steps for Salthill).

Kennys is my absolute favourite bookshop in Ireland, not only for the shop itself but also for its wonderful online store (which you can order from worldwide!). Featuring a mix of new and secondhand books, you can find pretty much anything you’re looking for here, including special editions, rare used books, and leabhair Ghaeilge.

One of my favourite things about Kennys is their special editions — whenever an Irish author I love announces a new novel, I always keep an eye out to see if Kennys will have a signed first edition to order, and they usually do. Often these editions have different covers, exclusive forwards, or some other special element. I have exclusive Kennys editions of Sally Rooney’s Intermezzo (which I pre-ordered literally within two minutes of them sending out the email), Long Island by Colm Tóibín, several Donal Ryan novels, and more. Actually the only reason I didn’t buy anything at Kennys on this trip is because I have two upcoming novels pre-ordered with them, Open, Heaven by Seán Hewitt and Eat the Ones You Love by Sarah Maria Griffin.

If you choose Kennys for your first stop, you’l probably want some breakfast afterward to fuel up for your next bookstore browse. I recommend driving to the other side of town and going for brunch at Ard Bia. It’s my fave place to eat in Galway and possibly all of Ireland, and the only place where I never regret going sweet instead of savory for brunch because their French toast is just so good. Also a great date-night dinner restaurant (or any occasion, really, and to keep this book-related they also have a wonderful cookbook).

On the other hand, if you’re saving your trip out for Kennys for later in the day, you’ll want to go for breakfast before you hit up bookshop number one, because you will need to queue at my other recommendation. I passed by Magpie Bakery around 11 on Saturday morning and there was a queue at least 15 people long. Curious but not peckish at the time, I decided to come back Sunday morning and check it out. Despite arriving about 15 minutes before it opened, there was already a queue!

I have to say, it was completely worth the wait. I had a vegan sausage roll, a morning bun, and bought a loaf of lemon poppyseed sourdough to take home. All were delicious, and there were so many other fabulous looking pastries in the glass display case. So my recommendation is to arrive a bit before opening and start your day with coffee and a pastry (or two).

And, conveniently, Magpie Bakery is right next door to my other favourite bookshop in Galway/Ireland. Charlie Byrne’s is an institution in Galway. It’s got that classic bookshop feel — comfortably cluttered and packed from floor to ceiling with books (over a hundred thousand!) across a number of rooms. They’re also home to a host of events, with several book clubs every month, children’s story hours, and an array of book launches and readings.

Charlie Byrne’s also has a special place in my heart because the MA in Literature & Publishing at NUI Galway publishes a journal called Ropes every year and Charlie Byrne’s are always the first to agree to stock copies (although I do have to say that all of the bookshops in Galway are extremely support of of local work… and anyone is looking for my year’s edition of Ropes, I did see that Kennys happens to have a single 2014 copy on its shelves).

Unlike Kennys, I don’t tend to buy from Charlie Byrne’s online, so it would’ve been rude not to pick up a whole stack of books when I was there on Saturday, right? I bought three secondhand novels — Memorial by Bryan Washington, The Idiot by Elif Bautman, and Stone Yard Devotional by Charlotte Wood — Eimear McBride’s new novel The City Changes its Face, and a book of poetry by Alvy Carragher, who was doing her MA in Writing when I was doing mine in Publishing and whose poetry blew us away when she submitted it to Ropes so I’m delighted she went on to publish several collections.

Okay, now that you’ve bought a few books, it’s time to take a wander through town. If you need even more bookshops, you can call in to Eason and Dubray on Shop Street — even if they’re chains, they’re still local Irish chains and their Galway locations are worth a stop. At the top of Shop Street, you can also visit the statues of Irish writer Oscar Wilde and Estonian writer Eduard Vilde.

Otherwise, assuming you’re visiting on a weekend, you can wander down the street by St. Nicholas Church and check out the Galway Market, if it’s a sunny day you can stop for a pint and some people watching at Tigh Neachtain‘s, or you can call in to one of the jewellery shops and buy a Claddagh ring in the place of its origin.

Now it’s time to head west. If you’re lucky enough to be blessed with a sunny day (or anything short of a downpour, really), I recommend a walk out to Salthill. Cross the bridge at the Spanish Arch and stick to the road along the river (for first-time visitors, this is also where you’ll get a great picture of the Long Walk and its colorful houses) and then the path along the coast. From here to the end of Salthill Prom is about three kilometres.

When you get back to town, stay on the Claddagh side of the harbour. If you’re thirsty for a(nother) pint at this point, the Salt House has long been a favourite of mine (I’m sure in part because when I lived in Galway I lived all of three-minutes’ walk away), with a nice selection of craft beer and always a good atmosphere that’s lively but not so loud that you can’t have a chat. If something non-alcoholic is more to your taste, the Secret Garden a lovely little spot for tea and, on the bookish side of things, apparently hosts a weekly silent book club. Described as “happy hour for introverts,” this group meets on Saturdays at 5:30 to read, together but quietly. I love this idea and I want one in Killarney!

We’ve got one more bookshop on our little tour, and that’s Bell Book and Candle just up the street from the Secret Garden and next to the Crane Bar (which is the best spot for nightly trad music in Galway, by the way). It’s much smaller than the other bookshops in town, but it still has a great array of not only books but also records, cds, comics, and all sorts of other items, so it’s definitely worth a look.

We’ve come to the end of our bookish tour of Galway, but you’ve still got a whole evening ahead of you for good pints, food, and music — if you’re not just racing back to your hotel to read your new books!