COMMENT
Business Buzz
with Harry Pearson
Parmo v Francesinha in battle of the fast-food heavyweights
In October I went to Porto . The great dish of Portugal ’ s second city is called a francesinha ( literally “ a little Frenchie ”). The locals love the francesinha so much they wear t-shirts with pictures of it on the front , and francesinha pin badges in their lapels . “ Have you had a francesinha yet ?” the locals ask the minute you are out of the airport , “ Oh , you have to have a francesinha . You can ’ t come to Porto and not have a francesinha . Francesinha are in our blood and our hearts !”
The concept of the francesinha was brought to Porto in the 1950s by a local chef who had been to France and had a croque monsieur . He decided to recreate it from what he had on hand . He made a cheese , beef and ham sandwich , but instead of grilling it as the French would , he heated it up and melted the cheese by pouring a boiling sauce made from beer and tomatoes over the top . The result is a dish so stodgy and filling it makes the jam roly-poly and custard they used to serve at my primary school seem like a tray of sushi . After eating one ( it comes served with chips , naturally ) I felt like somebody had filled my stomach with concrete . Buttons popped off my shirt with a ping . I practically had to be winched up from my chair by waiting staff .
As many of you will have twigged by now , the francesinha is very much Porto ’ s answer to the parmo . It is the gastronomic emblem of the city . Indeed , though I have no evidence to back this up , I feel pretty confident that when the local football club came from behind to defeat Bayern Munich and lift the European Cup in 1987 , the commentator celebrated Juary ’ s winning volley by yelling : “ Everybody round my house for a francesinha !”
Like the francesinha , the parmo is an attempt to recreate a foreign recipe – in this case veal parmigiana – when you don ’ t have the same ingredients and ( at least in the case of Porto ’ s favourite ) can ’ t quite remember how it was made in the first place .
Naturally , there ’ s a fierce debate over who invented the parmo . Some people favour the romantic idea of a wounded ex-US serviceman named Nicos Harris first serving a parmo at the American Grill in Linthorpe Road around 1958 . Others take the view that Teesside ’ s native dish was first cooked up by chef Charlie Constantine at the Buck Hotel in Great Ayton around the same time . Since I was born and brought up in Great Ayton you might expect me to support this side of the argument . However , I come from the top of the village and the Buck is at the bottom , so frankly it might as well be in Sydney as far as I ’ m concerned .
Harry Pearson tackles a high-calorie francesinha and fries in Porto – but did he manage to finish the side salad as well ?
Whoever invented the parmo , the certainty is that originally it was made with pork fillet . The now popular chicken version first made its appearance in the late 1970s , around the time that chicken – once a luxury product – became much cheaper thanks to battery farming .
Nowadays the parmo is so ubiquitous in Teesside and across the North-East that it was quite a surprise when my Uncle Les ( born in Marske in 1940 , but lived in Glasgow since 1968 ) said to me the other day : “ What ’ s this parmo thing everybody is always going on about ?”
When I explained , he asked : “ Is it any good , then ?” That was a hard one to answer . At risk of being run out of town by a torch-bearing mob , I have to confess I am a bit of parmo-agnostic . One thing I will say in its favour though , is this : it ’ s a bloody sight better than a francesinha .
Harry Pearson ’ s latest book The Farther Corner – A Sentimental Return to North-East Football is out now .
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