Palanca Gigante is an Angolan tasca in multicultural Mouraria, Lisbon’s medieval downtown district. The restaurant is named after a critically endangered species of antelope (the palanca negra gigante, or giant sable antelope) that was adopted as an Angolan national symbol after that country’s independence from Portugal in 1975. Though regular Portuguese tascas – no-frills eateries – in Lisbon are far less endangered, it is harder to find authentic food from Portugal’s former colonies at such approachable prices in the city center.

Offering some of the world’s purest, most passionately produced chocolate, along with some of the best coffee in Lisbon, Bettina & Niccolò Corallo on Rua da Escola Politécnica in the Príncipe Real neighborhood has changed the tastes and habits of many locals. There’s no milk chocolate available at this family-run shop, only dark chocolate. And yet Portuguese chocolate lovers – who have a notorious sweet tooth – will swoon when one mentions Corallo’s products. As for the coffee, area residents now wait until 10 a.m., when the café opens, to have their morning brew here.

Peixnhos da horta is translated as little fish from the garden; they are actually deep fried green bean tempura and are sampled on our Lisbon Awakens walk. It is believed that tempura was actually introduced to Japan by the Portugese Jesuit missionaries.

Lisbon seems to be getting its groove back. Or at least, more people are taking notice of this city’s unique character and clearly taking to it. Recently, Vogue and The New York Times profiled the Intendente district, an up-and-coming neighborhood in the city center; Monocle magazine held its first “Quality of Life” conference in Lisbon; and many friends of ours, from Istanbul to San Francisco, are sharing beautiful photos of their latest trip to the city. Oddly, in a city on the upswing with such a rich culinary heritage, we found there was little storytelling on the subject of food and how it impacts Lisbon’s urban culture, be it in print, on the Web or on the ground (as in a tour or other guided experience).

A particularly eye-catching landmark in Lisbon’s Alfama district is the Casa dos Bicos (“House of the Spikes”), a 16th-century palace – once home to the Portuguese viceroy of India, and now housing the José Saramago Foundation – that has a bizarre façade of spiked stones and eclectic doors and windows. Just next to it is Reviravolta, a modest neighborhood tasca that serves up a dish with similarly iconic status: cozido a Portuguesa. One of the most traditional Portuguese meals, cozido has humble origins; first invented in the interior Beira region, it was a dish to use up all the week’s lunch leftovers. It consists of a mixture of several kinds of meat, including chicken, pork ribs, pork belly, pig’s ear, beef shank and assorted offal, complemented by different smoked sausages: chouriço, fat and sweet paprika, blood sausage and farinheira – the latter a Jewish invention of wheat flour, paprika and pepper, nowadays mixed with pork fat. Cozido is accompanied by boiled vegetables such as beans, potatoes, cabbage, turnip greens and rice. All of that, on just one plate.

Portuguese regional food can be found easily in Lisbon, but at Grupo Excursionista e Recreativo Os Amigos do Minho, it is one of its raisons d’êtres. This warren of rooms that occupy a 19th-century tile-clad building not only works as a restaurant; the small cultural association has been a point of encounter for internal migrants moving from the northernmost Portuguese region of Minho since the 1950s. For all that time, this humble spot has kept the Minho culture alive in the capital, as well as renting out the space to young music promoters and cultural producers. Here you can experience rowdy parties with northern-style dances, live performances of the “concertina” (a typical accordion from the region) and, most importantly, group dinners with local, traditional food.

The smell and the smoke attract us like a magnet. We can’t see them, but there are sardines being grilled over charcoal somewhere nearby. We are in Largo do Chafariz de Dentro, where the Fado Museum is, and the strong smell of the popular deep-fried farturas (a big churro) goes unnoticed due to the overwhelming – and delicious! – smell of grilled sardines everywhere.