The story of the Portuguese diaspora in America is fascinating. It begins somewhere in the late 16th century and continues right up until the beginning of the 20th. For the most part they settled in the coastal areas of New England–Massachusetts and Rhode Island–and the phonebook of Fall River, Massachusetts has more De Silvas than you can count. Portuguese Jews came to escape persecution. Others settled for business–whaling and fishing primarily. Over the decades they became a large part of the once puritanical fabric of Mayflower territory, contributing their blend of spice, culture and industry. From Newport to Cuttyhunk, Martha’s Vineyard, Nantucket and New Bedford, Falmouth, Wellfleet, Provincetown, Gloucester…The list is as long and convoluted as the coastline it covers. I suggest you go here to find out more details.
Like all diaspora they brought their food. Many years ago I spent a summer cooking on a small island in the Elizabeth’s (a small island chain off of New Bedford) and made more Cioppino than you can shake a stick at. I drank enough Vino Verde (courtesy of Padanaram Liquors) to satisfy any thirst and ate enough fresh baked pastries to choke a cod fish. However, the best Portuguese dish, I feel, is Portuguese Kale Soup. I am not sure if they made this in Portugal but all up and down the New England coast you can find it, especially when the weather turns foul and the rains begin and the winter sets in. I grew up eating this soup in Provincetown and Truro from the time I was born until…well, now we come to it and to be honest I am getting a little weepy right now.
It is December 3, 2019 as I write this and I will post this tomorrow, December 4th. My mother died on December 4th four years ago, surrounded by love, and as peaceful as if she had just gone to sleep. She made Portuguese Kale Soup and that’s how I will always remember it. The recipe is simple and begins in the meat section of the A&P out on Shank Painter Road in Provincetown where mom would buy a package of Gaspar’s linguica and a box of frozen kale, a can of whole peeled tomatoes, a couple of potatoes, onions…the rest we had on hand. You basically just put it all in a pot, cover it all with water, add a bay leaf or two, some salt and pepper and cook it until the large-diced spuds are soft. As memories go it is a real winner. So much so that for the past year I have been trying to have some linguica, real-Massachusetts-grade-A-Portuguese-linguica, sent to me here on Paros. My sister brought some from Maine but the TSA took it. Every outlet I tried in the USA told me they couldn’t ship it overseas. Even Amazon didn’t have the right stuff. You see, there is a difference between Portuguese linguica (from Portugal) and the stuff I want. Worlds apart, as they say. And kale in Greece? What the heck is that?
But I found some kale…a little pale, but sturdy enough–fresh, not frozen. For the sausage I had to compromise. I will be using a mildly spicy Italian sausage I bought in Florence a few weeks ago at my sister’s suggestion. I am also using a little stock, not just water. The rest is the same. Almost. Yes…a little weepy again, but that’s alright. I have my mother’s spirit guiding me and her practical kitchen sense approving the alterations I must make. Because you see, the temperature is dropping and the rains are beginning and the winter is setting in on this little island in the sea and what I want is a bowl of Portuguese Kale Soup and the memory of a steamy kitchen filled with garlicky aromas and a voice saying, ‘Now…we’ll just let that sit and tomorrow it’ll be terrific…”
–JDCM
