
Chef Margarida
Açorda de Camarão
The peasant bread soup of Alentejo dressed for company, sweet pink prawns swimming in a broth of garlic, coentros, and golden azeite. Humble origins, elegant result. This is who we are.
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The fried chicken of Portuguese tascas, cut small so it crisps fast and vanishes faster. Garlic and white wine in the marinade, more fried garlic on top. This is bar food perfected.
Every tasca in Portugal has this on the menu. Every single one. The name means 'chicken in the style of a little bird,' and the pieces should be small enough to pop in your mouth, bone and all if you're brave enough.
This isn't fancy food. This is what you eat standing at a zinc counter in Lisbon, washing it down with imperial after imperial, talking too loud with people you just met. This is what my uncle made for football matches, the kitchen filling with smoke while everyone crowded around the television. The frango came out in waves, and it disappeared just as fast.
The secret is the marinade. White wine and garlic, nothing complicated. But you let it sit. You give it time. The alcohol tenderizes, the garlic perfumes everything, and when it hits the hot oil, something magical happens. The outside shatters and the inside stays juicy.
At Mesa da Avó, I serve this family-style on a big platter, everyone reaching in at once. That's how it should be eaten. No plates, no portions. Just a pile of golden chicken, too much fried garlic, and cold beer. Uma cozinha sem alma é só combustível. Food without soul is just fuel. This dish has soul to spare.
Frango à passarinho emerged from Portugal's tasca culture, the working-class taverns where laborers gathered for cheap wine and petiscos. The technique of cutting chicken small for quick frying likely came from necessity: faster cooking meant faster turnover in busy bars. The dish spread throughout Brazil during colonial times, where it became equally beloved.
Quantity
1 kg
cut small (wings separated, thighs quartered, drumsticks halved)
Quantity
8
4 minced for marinade, 4 whole for frying
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1
crumbled
Quantity
1 teaspoon, plus more for finishing
Quantity
freshly ground, to taste
Quantity
about 1 liter
for frying
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for garnish
roughly chopped
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| chicken piecescut small (wings separated, thighs quartered, drumsticks halved) | 1 kg |
| garlic cloves4 minced for marinade, 4 whole for frying | 8 |
| dry white wine | 1/2 cup |
| lemon juice | 2 tablespoons |
| sweet paprika (pimentão doce) | 1 teaspoon |
| bay leafcrumbled | 1 |
| coarse salt | 1 teaspoon, plus more for finishing |
| black pepper | freshly ground, to taste |
| vegetable oilfor frying | about 1 liter |
| all-purpose flour | 1/2 cup |
| lemon wedges | for serving |
| flat-leaf parsleyroughly chopped | for garnish |
This is the step most people skip, and it's the whole point of the dish. The chicken must be cut into small, irregular pieces. Wings separated at the joints. Drumsticks and thighs cut through the bone into two or three pieces each. You want bite-sized, bone-in morsels that cook quickly and get crispy all over. Ask your butcher to do this, or use a heavy cleaver at home.
In a large bowl, combine the chicken pieces with the minced garlic, white wine, lemon juice, paprika, crumbled bay leaf, salt, and a generous grinding of black pepper. Toss everything together with your hands, making sure every piece is coated. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight if you can. The wine tenderizes. The garlic perfumes. Don't rush this.
Remove the chicken from the refrigerator 30 minutes before cooking. Drain the marinade and pat each piece thoroughly dry with paper towels. Wet chicken doesn't crisp. Wet chicken splatters. Put the flour in a shallow dish and season it with a pinch of salt and pepper. Dredge each piece lightly, shaking off excess. The coating should be thin, just a whisper of flour.
Heat the oil in a deep heavy pot or Dutch oven to 180°C (350°F). Fry the chicken in batches, never crowding the pot. Each batch takes about 8 to 10 minutes, turning occasionally, until the pieces are deep golden and cooked through. The internal temperature should reach 75°C (165°F). Transfer to a wire rack set over a baking sheet. Don't pile them on paper towels where the bottoms will steam and go soft.
Here's what separates good frango from great frango. In the last minute of your final batch, or in a separate small pan with a few tablespoons of the frying oil, add the whole garlic cloves. Fry them until golden and crispy, about 1 to 2 minutes. Watch carefully. They go from golden to burnt in seconds. These fried garlic cloves are not garnish. They're essential.
Pile the chicken on a warm platter. Scatter the fried garlic cloves over top. Hit it with another pinch of flaky salt while it's still hot. Shower with chopped parsley. Arrange lemon wedges around the edges. Serve immediately with cold beer and napkins. This is not a knife-and-fork situation. Use your hands. Get messy. That's the point.
1 serving (about 200g)
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