A silent phenomenon is transforming the landscape of São Miguel, and it’s not the fog over Furnas. It’s gastronomic gentrification. What used to be genuine ‘casas de pasto’—meeting places for those who worked the land or traded cattle—have turned into literal assembly lines for tourists.

The Price of Fame: €18 for a Beef Stew?

The case of Farias or Canto da Pia, old famous name “Gilberto da Relva” the perfect example of this nonsense. How does a traditional eatery, which once served honest meals to those attending the Thursday cattle fair, start charging 18 euros for a plate of beef stew? We are talking about comfort food, ‘pot-cooked’ meals, now sold as a “tourist curiosity” at hotel prices.

Even more absurd is seeing guides and forums classify Farias as seafood. It isn’t, and it never has been. In the chaos of rapid growth, it seems nobody cares about the truth anymore—only about easy profit.

The Decline of Icons: Bar Caloura and Beyond

Even the names that were once sacred are changing. Bar Caloura, for instance, has been resting on its laurels, especially since the owner passed away last year. The soul that made these places iconic is being replaced by a brand name that no longer delivers the same quality.

The same applies to the famous steak at Associação Agrícola. It’s a reputation from years ago. Today, it’s a place where you’ll almost exclusively find tourists. The real problem? In many of these “famous” spots, they don’t even serve local meat anymore. The essence has been traded for volume.

Why Locals Keep Secrets: The Story of Rui

We, the residents, have reached a breaking point: we no longer dare to recommend our genuine spots. If we share them, we won’t have a place to sit in the summer. It’s the “Bairro Alto Syndrome” hitting the Azores.

Take the example of O Rui, the former owner of the famous A Tasca. He eventually sold the place because he was fed up. He told me himself at his new restaurant: he wanted to find the genuine soul of his cooking again. In his new space, he does not accept reservations. He seeks to escape the tourist circuit. Even after a successful winter filled with locals, he keeps empty tables specifically for his year-round customers. He chose loyalty over the “tourist gold rush.”

The Winter Resentment

Many restaurants now refuse booking lists because, when winter comes, they are penalized by locals. Residents, feeling ignored during the high season, simply stop showing up. It’s a cycle of greed that pushes away the people who live here 365 days a year.

How to Find the Real Azorean Soul?

As we say in Portugal, “if we all liked the same thing, the world would be a boring place.” Tastes are relative, but honesty shouldn’t be. It’s sad to see visitors mentioning the same spots—precisely the ones we locals devalue because they’ve stopped serving well to serve fast.

The true gastronomy of São Miguel still exists, but it’s not in the 18-euro menus trying to turn everyday food into artificial luxury. It’s in the silence of the places that still respect the pot, the time, and the local customer.

To reach these genuine spots hidden in the villages, you’ll need the freedom of a car rental.

Local Tip: If you want the soul of the island, look for places where there are no lines and where the price reflects the fairness of the dish, not the greed of the market.