“We had no language in common, but communicated through cooking”: When food writer Toyo Odetunde met Estrela Sequeira, the cook at the guesthouse she was staying at, it was the start of a cookery ‘lesson’ that taught her more about northern Portugal’s Côa Valley than any history class could.
*Toyo Odetunde was one of four mentees who participated in Intrepid’s second Diversifying Travel Media press trip in October 2024 alongside three fellow mentees/aspiring travel journalists and four mentors/established travel writers and editors.*
It’s raining when I arrive at Casa da Cisterna, a homely, country guesthouse in Castelo Rodrigo village in northern Portugal’s Côa Valley. I’m here to learn more about the cultural and ecological conservation efforts taking place across this region, home to a rewilding project and UNESCO-recognized prehistoric rock art sites. With its focus on sustainable rural tourism, Casa da Cisterna sits comfortably against this backdrop.
The owners are husband-and-wife duo António Monteiro and Ana Berliner. As biologists heavily involved in local rewilding efforts, it’s unsurprising that their guesthouse forms a key part of the protective ethos that defines much of the tourist activity in the Côa Valley. Here, safeguarding the region’s distinct and varied wildlife, natural landscapes and historical relics is a priority. In fact Casa da Cisterna’s rooms are woven between the remains of a castle settlement—a patchwork of earthy reds, pinks and grays that reveal this fortress’ medieval history.
The hilltop location means we’re perched above the infinite green of the valley, a terrain of open forest and patches of arid wilderness. Through the light mist, I can make out the promise of a spectacular view. But for now, sharp wisps of wind and rain are nipping at my face, and the toasty caress of the indoors beckons.
In hindsight, this was the perfect setting for my initiation into the soulful, restorative food served to guests here, prepared by Estrela Sequeira, the house cook. I’d expected to uncover the Côa Valley’s heritage, such as its wildlife and access to Neolithic and Paleolithic drawings, but I hadn’t expected to experience the region quite so memorably through its food—simple, but with a deep respect for locality that means freshness and undiluted flavor sing from each dish.
My shoulders loosen when I first walk into the communal dining room, next to the kitchen that conceals the magic of Estrela’s cookery. The heady aroma of garlic and herbs, their full potency freshly released with oil and heat, and the simple yet beautiful tablescape with a centerpiece of fall produce makes for a warm welcome.
From bulging apples and pomegranates to knobbly chestnuts, each day our table décor, just like our meals, is a heartwarming ode to local, seasonal produce, reminiscent of harvest festival displays.
“What I really like to cook is what I call ‘comida comida. Real, hearty food … We cook with what we find in the fields, like wild asparagus.”
My introduction to Estrela’s food is a gratin of sweet leeks, onions and fried potato seasoned with sheep’s cheese and plenty of garlic. She brings out the trays with the quiet confidence and pride of someone who cooks well, and knows it. Food lovers easily spot and gravitate towards one another, and on noticing my eager enthusiasm for seconds, Estrela flashes me a knowing smile, marking the start of our bond.
Though both unable to speak the other’s native language, we connect through our shared reverence for, and curiosity around food. I am reminded, through Estrela’s dishes, of the power of earnest cooking to form impactful relationships.
It doesn’t take long for Estrela to invite me into the kitchen. “I put all of my love into my cooking so people enjoy it,” she tells me during one of our kitchen chats, aided by Ana’s translations. “You have to be patient with food. But it’s worth it.”
It certainly is worth it. I especially love the way she artfully balances nourishing and indulgent elements; the decadence of her velvety chocolate tart; a gently jiggling toffee-flavored chestnut pudding; her rich rice cooked in duck broth with salty chouriço and smoked bacon. “What I really like to cook is what I call ‘comida comida’,” Estrela says. “Real, hearty food.”
But there’s also the vegetal, pure sensations of soups using a medley of legumes, roots and greens. I devour the golden fried cod with creamy migas—a herby, savory bread pudding—served with crisp spring salads, and sweet marbled pork loin paired with a block of shredded cabbage, potatoes and leafy greens.
Estrela’s love affair and dexterity with food stems from childhood passion, and her upbringing. “Born here, baptized here, married here”, she tells me when I ask about her relationship to Guarda, this region of the valley. She’s chatting while masterfully shelling purple-green rattlesnake bean pods over the kitchen counter at lightning speed. It’s a small space to prepare large quantities of such flavorsome food. “My mother didn’t like me always bothering her kitchen, but I was always there,” she laughs.
Estrela explains how the countryside’s ample fields have long been a source of produce. “We cook with what we find in the fields, like wild asparagus.” I’d seen the feathery sprouts of this crop earlier that day, while walking through the wilderness of Côa Valley’s archaeological park. “The teas we serve after dinner, use lemon balm and tree blossoms from my garden,” she adds, explaining the fragrant, botanical and healthful flavors of the infusions which throughout my stay would aid my digestion and encourage restful sleep.
“A few of our neighbors contribute crops from their gardens too,” Estrela tells me. As well as core staples like potatoes, and flavour-enhancing aliums ranging from sweet leeks to pungent garlic, all the fruits at Casa da Cisterna—like pomegranates, apples, oranges and grapes—are grown locally. As part of their sustainability efforts here, Ana and Antonio also produce their own vinegars and olive oils which guests can purchase. Estrela also counts cheesemaking among her talents, making cheeses by hand from local sheep’s and goat’s milk, as well as yoghurt.
“There are certain foods you can only really access here in the countryside,” says Ana. “For example, we can pick and cook these gourds before they are ripe, offering new flavor profiles and textures. Generally, only the ripe product is sold to customers in town.” She places a selection of gourds (hard-shelled fruits from the same family as pumpkins, squashes, and melons) on the kitchen table, ranging from bottle to pastel green, their skins ranging from satiny smooth to calloused.
It’s no secret that you can find good food in Portugal, but away from the Michelin stars and the cities, some of the most marvelous cooking is happening behind the forests and stone walls of places like the Côa Valley.
However, while the land is the Côa Valley’s pantry, harvests have not always been abundant; historically, this region was one of the country’s poorest. A challenging past of economic hardship shaped the local cuisine through the need to be resourceful. The murky but rousing bowl of turnip greens soup I enjoy as a starter is an example of this root-to-stem philosophy. This efficiency also explains the traditional reliance on preservation techniques of salting, drying and smoking. “We only got a fridge when I was around 12 years old,” Estrela (now 58) reminisces, “and very few of us here had one.”
In promoting community-forward tourism, Ana explains how the food programming at Casa da Cisterna has to balance expectations of international guests, with menus that are true to Portuguese heritage. “There are customary dishes that some less familiar with the cuisine might feel nervous about. Like cozido à Portuguesa; a boiled pottage bringing together several pig parts from the trotters and snout to the ears, other meats like veal and chicken, with cabbage and root vegetables,” she says.
Placing such value on culinary heritage has led to the Receitas que Contam Histórias (‘Recipes that tell stories’) book project. Drawing input from the 12 historical villages of Portugal, Casa da Cisterna was involved in this important codification, sharing knowledge on dishes from the Castelo Rodigo village.
For instance, Estrela makes bola parda, a cinnamon-spiced and brandy-spiked Christmas cake from Guarda that’s featured in the book. A local baker in the book supplies Casa da Cisterna’s bread. One of my most memorable desserts during my time here is Estrela’s arroz doce, a luscious cinnamon-scented delight which is also immortalized by the project. These historical, traditional recipes demonstrate the long culinary lineage connecting local cooks like Estrela to older generations of Northern Portuguese communities.
As the project acknowledges, foods here, as in many places, are laden with connections to important cultural and religious practices. One such fete is in honor of Our Lady of the Rosary—Ana details the celebrations that took place in Castelo Rodrigo just before I arrived. Proceedings began with mass, followed by a procession and offerings, and an auction to gather money for the musicians fueling the celebrations—including the husband of a staff member at Casa da Cisterna. Street feasts are typical, but on this occasion, eating (and plenty of dancing) took place in a saloon due to rain.
“Typical dishes for this festival include liver fried with olive oil, garlic, onion and vinegar, codfish salad, and migas de piexe,” says Ana. The latter is a bread-thickened fish soup that I recognize from the recipe project book. “Estrela’s husband brought the fish and Estrela made the dish for us. It was a joyous day, we were all so happy and everyone had such a good time.”
It’s no secret that you can find good food in Portugal, but away from the Michelin stars and the cities, some of the most marvelous cooking is happening behind the forests and stone walls of places like the Côa Valley. Northern Portuguese cities like Porto offer buzzy hotspots for avant-garde takes and classical local cuisine alike, but the joyfully wholesome food of the hinterland should not be missed.
“Many dishes we serve here are hard to find in restaurants,” Ana tells me. “It’s such homestyle cooking.” And at Casa da Cisterna, I learn that one of the best ways to experience the rhythm of life here is through its time-honored recipes.
The sun does come out across my stay, illuminating the glorious peaks and troughs of the Côa Valley. But it’s Estrela’s food that really brightens my trip. Her name is a prophecy.
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This trip was based on elements of Intrepid’s Portugal Real Food Adventure which visits parts of rural, northern Portugal, including the Côa Valley.
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Toyo Odetunde is a London-based writer and culinary enthusiast, writing on hospitality and the connections between food and culture for titles such as Condé Nast Traveller, National Geographic, BBC Travel, Vittles, House and Garden and the i paper.
