Porto Salgado, numa terça-feira de chuva
Caro amigo, cara amiga,
Every few years a man in a good suit comes to explain how we could make four times as many tins. He is always right. We give him lunch and send him home.
My great-grandmother Amélia opened this factory in 1923 with a borrowed boiler and a view of the harbour. The boiler is gone. The view, the recipe and the six-month wait are exactly where she left them.
A sardine does not improve because you are in a hurry.
The oil needs half a year to do what it does, and I have yet to meet the spreadsheet that can persuade it otherwise. So we make what the season allows: some years plenty, some years a polite apology. Either way our name goes on every tin, and my telephone number is not hard to find.
If you open one and think it was worth the wait, then the arrangement is working.
Com sal e paciência,
Inês Carvalhal
Quarta geração