«You're a little low in the food chain to be mouthing off, aren't you?»*

Pela mão de dois caros "sound+visionianos", chegou às mãos da galarzada uma prosa de um crítico gastronómico do mui britânico Sunday Times. A longa prosa, que deveria ser uma opinião sobre um restaurande londrino, acaba por se revelar um desfiar de ataquezinhos a Portugal, aos portugueses, à nossa história e - aqui é que a porca torce o rabo - à gastronomia lusitana!

O senhor AA Gill começa logo por pôr a coisa em pratos limpos:

«I’ve never been to Portugal, so my prejudices about the salty Iberian appendix are unsullied and uncorrupted by acquaintance. It is with a disinterested authority, therefore, that I can say Portugal is (...) a place so forgettable that the rest of us haven’t even bothered to think up a rude nickname for it.»

Daí em frente, seguem-se as pequenas investidas contra a história de Portugal:

«Portugal is (...) the only colonial power that was given independence by its own colony. Brazil told Lisbon it would just have to stand on its own two feet now, because, frankly, being seen out with it was getting embarrassing. Portugal’s colonial reputation was for being overfamiliar with the folk they were ripping off. In fact, there is a theory that the Portuguese only got an empire as a desperate attempt to get laid.»

E até uma original comparação entre Portugal e Espanha:

«The world is dotted with plain mates on double dates, countries that are gawkier, hairier, shyer, goofier and less entertaining than their friends. Their main purpose is to make the next-door neighbour look good. (...) But how depressing must it be to be the forgettable one out on a date with Spain? (...)

Portugal has been doomed to be the mini-me España. It’s Spain that’s famous for sailors and discoverers, when, in fact, the Portuguese were better and braver at it. Spain got fascism and Franco; Portugal just got some bloke called Salazar, but nobody noticed. Spain got bullfights, flamenco, Penélope Cruz and Real Madrid; Portugal got golf courses, porto, gout and domestic servants. Name three famous Portuguese who weren’t sailors. Or three of your favourite Portuguese dishes.»

Finalmente, após vomitar ideias pré-concebidas, AA Gill atira-se à cozinha portuguesa:

«In gallant little Portugal, the food is well meaning and pretty dreadful. And before you say anything, no, I’ve never had it well made, because I’ve never found anyone who can be bothered to make it. (...)

Portuguese food is heaven — if you’re Portuguese. But if you come to it with a mild hunger and a choice, it’s just sort of Spanish, but without the shrieking. (...)»

Não é que a malta não concorde com algumas coisas - certo que somos o cantinho do lado de lá de Espanha, certo que a comidinha cá do burgo tem muita banha, certo, certo, certo... Mas o que nos parece mal, para além da linguagem exageradamente obsessiva e hipocondríaca (que, aparentemente, é imagem de marca do senhor), é só uma coisa: o Reino Unido não é aquele país que fez das salsichas com puré prato nacional e que ao almoço se debate entre o fish e os chips?

Pois ao senhor AA Gill os The Galarzas desejam uma bonita indigestão, uma agradável infecção alimentar e as melhoras.

[* in Ice Age]