Antonia Petiscos Portuguese — Restaurant in Lisbon

Our lunch at Antonia Petistos was a culmination of frustration after a fruitless two-hour quest for a satisfying meal. Despite its promising Portuguese menu, our experience revealed a stark contrast between expectation and reality. Antonia Petistos purported to offer an authentic Portuguese dining experience, yet it became apparent that neither the management nor the culinary team hailed from Portuguese roots. As a fellow Portuguese individual, I found the lack of genuine influence disheartening, especially in a cuisine known for its robust flavours and rich traditions. In particular, my order of 'Bacalhau Assado' left much to be desired. The dish lacked any discernible taste, drowned instead in a pool of poor-quality oil that bore no resemblance to the rich, aromatic Portuguese olive oil that should have graced the plate, and the overwhelming presence of this oil masked any hint of garlic that should have infused the dish, robbing it of its intended depth and character.

My husband's dish suffered from its own set of deficiencies, while promising on the menu, arrived at the table disappointingly dry and lacking even the most basic seasoning of salt. This oversight further underscored the restaurant's inability to deliver on the fundamental elements of taste and execution.

Moreover, the presence of drain flies buzzing around only served to compound our dissatisfaction, raising serious concerns about the restaurant's commitment to hygiene and cleanliness.

In conclusion, our visit to Antonia Petistos left us longing for the authentic flavours and warm hospitality of true Portuguese cuisine.

If you're craving Portuguese food,...

small cute place in Bairro Alto? Yes. good service? Definitely no. possibly fake award? Maybe.

Time: 9:30 PM. Empty restaurant should have been a warning sign. Cheesy posters and writings on slate promoting wine as the solution for everything should have been another warning.

Asked the lady for tap water. She said they do not serve tap water. Only half-liter bottles of water that cost 2€ each. The bottle caps are not sealed, so they definitely refill the glass bottles with -- tap water, what else?

Showed the lady an article that describes there is a Portuguese law requiring restaurants to serve tap water for free when asked. She still refused. We asked her if she is ok with "breaking the law." She said, "yes".

We were discussing this kind of restaurant behavior, which is, unfortunately quite common, as the restaurants try to milk the customers for extra Euros serving drinking water even when the temperatures outside soar to 40ºC plus in the summer. The lady chimed in saying, "You didn't ask why we don't serve tap water." (Of course, we asked, and she refused to answer.). So, we asked again. She said it is because the neighbors have complained that the city water on that street is not good. I say she was bullshitting.

Would still love to know what water they refill their open-cap glass bottles with.

Food was not bad, service was terrible, the main lady was horrible, the other staff were nice. The entire restaurant stinks of lies.

I will certainly recommend people to stay away from...

Antónia Petiscos — where sardines meet soul, and Portugal quietly out‑cooks your expectations. You walk in and immediately sense: this is no flashy temple of gastronomy. This is a neighbourhood restaurant that somehow slipped into the top‑30 in the world list. That alone feels like a gentle wink from the universe: “Yes, we will surprise you.” The place sits in Bairro Alto, Lisbon. Rustic wood chairs, a bottle of water thinking it’s a trophy (see photo), and the hum of conversation that knows its own story. The menu is a love letter to Portuguese comfort: – Grilled sardines that taste like salt air and memory. – Chorizo & shrimp starters that remind you why sweet and spicy are best co‑conspirators. – Octopus á lagareiro, mussels, all the things that dare you not to believe in simple perfection. Service? Warm enough to thaw your travel‑jaded heart. The staff make you feel like your lateness, your indecision, your Instagramming of the “look what I ordered” shot — all vaguely forgiven. Here’s the twist: this restaurant is small. Cozy. Intimate. In a city full of grand gestures, Antónia Petiscos goes the reverse route: it shrinks you gently, so you’re closer to your plate and your own thoughts. P.S. If you finish your meal here and think “That was nice,” you are allowed. But if you finish and think “I want to do life differently,” then meet me on the terrace — we’ll toast to sardines and...