Sao Jorge
It is possible to learn a great deal about the social history of a country by noting what it produces and how it sells its wares. Today we landed on our seventh island in the Azorean archipelago and can hazard a few observations. Shopping in the charming little island towns is a different experience from that of shopping back home for most of us. More than most other people in the developed world, these islanders still live close to the land, growing their own produce. The big “stores” sell practical goods – hardware, tools and the like; fashion boutiques are at a premium, although wedding and first communion dresses are available for those important rites of passage. Many shops do not advertise their existence by sign or name: the point being that there are only “locals” and they know where to go in any case.
When the Portuguese first claimed the islands in the 1420s, they were a true wilderness: uninhabited and covered in scrubland. In the ensuing half millennium, an extraordinary landscape has been created, with a patchwork of fields and terraces protected from the saline winter gales by carefully constructed walls of volcanic lava. The first crop to be planted was the verdelho grape, planted by the Jesuits because to practice the Christian faith you need to have that gastronomic trinity of wine, wheat and oil. The vines flourished in the mineral-rich volcanic soils and were supplied – by Hanseatic merchants – to the Russian Imperial court. Lajido wines from the island of Pico are mentioned by Tolstoy in his War and Peace. Another gastronomic literary reference from the Azores are the St Michael oranges mentioned by Dickens in his Pickwick Papers. This cash crop, grown on the island of St Miguel, supplied Victorian England with what was then a luxury seasonal fruit throughout the winter months, the oranges carried to London by the million in fast schooners. When disease hit the citrus orchards in the 1880s, pineapples were introduced. Grown under glass, they have figured several times as a delicious dessert in our lunches at local restaurants. In the eighteenth century, tea was introduced to the islands by Portuguese vessels returning from Asia. Today, the Gorreana estate that we visited on Sao Miguel is the only tea plantation in the European Union.
What most impresses on all the islands is the rich grassland – up to six cuttings of hay can be made annually in some places – and the healthy dairy cattle that stay in their meadows all year round and are even milked there. Each island has its own distinctive cheese – in Faial, it was Flemish immigrants who brought the tradition with them. The most prized of the Azorean cheeses, however, are those from Sao Jorge. Luckily, we have been able to sample the different island cheeses from the cheese board in the dining room throughout the voyage and come to our own conclusions. Funny how the salt air shrinks your clothes on these voyages, isn’t it?
It is possible to learn a great deal about the social history of a country by noting what it produces and how it sells its wares. Today we landed on our seventh island in the Azorean archipelago and can hazard a few observations. Shopping in the charming little island towns is a different experience from that of shopping back home for most of us. More than most other people in the developed world, these islanders still live close to the land, growing their own produce. The big “stores” sell practical goods – hardware, tools and the like; fashion boutiques are at a premium, although wedding and first communion dresses are available for those important rites of passage. Many shops do not advertise their existence by sign or name: the point being that there are only “locals” and they know where to go in any case.
When the Portuguese first claimed the islands in the 1420s, they were a true wilderness: uninhabited and covered in scrubland. In the ensuing half millennium, an extraordinary landscape has been created, with a patchwork of fields and terraces protected from the saline winter gales by carefully constructed walls of volcanic lava. The first crop to be planted was the verdelho grape, planted by the Jesuits because to practice the Christian faith you need to have that gastronomic trinity of wine, wheat and oil. The vines flourished in the mineral-rich volcanic soils and were supplied – by Hanseatic merchants – to the Russian Imperial court. Lajido wines from the island of Pico are mentioned by Tolstoy in his War and Peace. Another gastronomic literary reference from the Azores are the St Michael oranges mentioned by Dickens in his Pickwick Papers. This cash crop, grown on the island of St Miguel, supplied Victorian England with what was then a luxury seasonal fruit throughout the winter months, the oranges carried to London by the million in fast schooners. When disease hit the citrus orchards in the 1880s, pineapples were introduced. Grown under glass, they have figured several times as a delicious dessert in our lunches at local restaurants. In the eighteenth century, tea was introduced to the islands by Portuguese vessels returning from Asia. Today, the Gorreana estate that we visited on Sao Miguel is the only tea plantation in the European Union.
What most impresses on all the islands is the rich grassland – up to six cuttings of hay can be made annually in some places – and the healthy dairy cattle that stay in their meadows all year round and are even milked there. Each island has its own distinctive cheese – in Faial, it was Flemish immigrants who brought the tradition with them. The most prized of the Azorean cheeses, however, are those from Sao Jorge. Luckily, we have been able to sample the different island cheeses from the cheese board in the dining room throughout the voyage and come to our own conclusions. Funny how the salt air shrinks your clothes on these voyages, isn’t it?
