Book a table at nearly any of the seaside restaurants of Portugal’s Algarve region, the country’s sandy and rugged southernmost coast, and it won’t be long before you witness a signature local spectacle: a server bringing a hammered copper clamshell-shaped pot to a table; unsnapping its latches; and lifting its top to unveil a hearty, steaming stew. This unique vessel and the dishes cooked and served in it go by the same name: cataplana. The origins of the pot are somewhat hazy—some say fishermen used cataplanas as lunch boxes of sorts, taking them out on their boats to store their catches and then transferring them right to the fire when it came time to cook—but it is easy to understand the stew’s lasting appeal: It’s at once simple, one-pot fare and a stunning showcase of local culinary gems, from fresh seafood to cured meat.
Because any dish cooked in one of these clamshell pots can technically be called a cataplana, the term can be something of a (2009) and founder of the Leite’s Culinaria website, to help me narrow my focus as I formulated my own take on the dish. Leite confirmed that in Portugal, cataplanas are used “for cooking anything and everything, much like the way that Chinese cooks use a wok,” but that there are also definitive, common cataplana recipes—amêijoas na cataplana, or clams in a cataplana, for one. This bright and lively stew, which features briny clams, bold linguica or chouriço sausage, presunto (Portuguese cured ham), tomatoes, onion, garlic, wine, and paprika, felt like the perfect jumping-off point for my own cataplana.
