
Under the glimmering night skies of Portugal, lines of people snake through the streets, waiting for steaming hot bowls of Caldo Verde. This is the nightclub crowd. The night shift crowd. And the I-can't-sleep-again-because-I'm-thinking-of-him crowd. I was once a part of this group, wearing high heels until they ached. I was much too young to be out so late at night, but there was nothing like sizzling, steaming European street food to keep the evening's excitement alive, even at four in … [Read more...]


























