Sorting through the few hundred pictures that I took during my three days in Portugal, I am still completely smitten with this pretty little patchwork of a city. There really aren’t so many land marks and tourist spots per say; Porto is its own attraction. Downtown is a network of narrow alleyways with intricately tiled walls all strung with laundry. The bakery windows are stacked with pastel de nata, a flaky tart filled with sweet creamy custard, and pastel, stuffed with cod or spicy pork.

Oh, and the francesinha…truly a sandwich to behold. It’s a tower of thickly sliced white bread and load of meat–steak, ham, and spicy sausage–then smothered in melted cheese and surrounded by a moat of some secret sauce and an army of fries. If you really want to get crazy, have it crowned with a fried egg. (You may think I’m taking this metaphor a bit far here…but there’s a picture to follow, and then you’ll understand.)