Where to drink Super Bock on tap in the City Bowl

(And what I’d eat with it)

When my boyfriend and I went to Portugal last year, we spent an unholy amount of time drinking beer. We didn’t plan on doing this, but after our first “fino” Super Bock (a smaller 200ml draught) we realised that hopping from bar to bar for Super Bock breaks between exploring seemed like a great way to see the sights. It’s now the only way we travel.

When we spent some time in Porto, a typical day started with a coffee and a pastel de nata. Then we’d stroll around, popping into shops, walking along the Douro river, contemplating our next meal. Around midday, we’d give each other a knowing look and beeline straight to the nearest bar for our first (of many) Super Bocks. We were there in peak summer, so these “Bock breaks”, as they came to be known, were as much a chance to rest our weary legs as they were to hydrate. Beer trumps water on holiday.

One thing about drinking Super Bock is that it makes me very hungry – particularly for garlicky, buttery Portuguese food. Maybe the light lemony notes make me crave something rich, but after one sip I’m already dreaming of dunking a crisp roll into a plate of chorizo, another and I’m half way to ordering a juicy half chicken. After a pint, I’m tucking into a plate of white bait with some sardines on the way.

If you, like me, love Super Bock and Portuguese food, here’s where I drink a cold one in the Cape Town City Bowl and what I like to pair it with. I usually like to make a day of it, starting somewhere for a half pint and a nibble and moving my way around the city. Bring some friends, you’ll need someone to share the Xai-Xai chicken with at Caramba.

Bacini’s Pizzeria & Deli

An honourable mention of sorts as Bacini’s is technically an Italian restaurant, but for some reason, they pour an exceptionally ice cold Super Bock. Since you’re at Bacini’s, it would be a crime not to order a pizza. I’d go with the Sebastiano. It’s got chorizo, chilli and garlic and bridges the gap between Italy and Portugal pretty well, in my opinion.

Reserve A Table

Toni’s on Kloof

When I went to Portugal, I quickly realised that the Portuguese food I like is not Portugal Portuguese, but Mozambique Portuguese. I’d order chicken and chips and wonder where the sauce was — this is because of Toni’s. Toni’s is a Mozambican Portuguese restaurant on Kloof street and the reason (sorry if this upsets anyone) I would rather eat Portuguese food here than in Europe. I go for the full size Super Bock, prawn rissoles, Mozambican Peri-Peri Chicken and the Prawns National and maybe another Super Bock.

Vasco da Gama Taverna

Vasco’s, home of Castle Tank Beer but also (if you go inside and ask) Super Bock on tap. My heart sank when I didn’t see it on the menu but as I walked inside I saw that iconic logo and felt at peace. I’d go for the chicken prego (delightfully buttery), a few rounds of half pints and don’t forget to pet the resident tuxedo cat.

Caramba

When you go to Caramba, go with a huge appetite and a lot of friends. The food is exceptional and hearty and you’ll want to order everything on the menu. The Super Bocks are ice cold and crisp, the service is almost too good (the beers just keep coming) and the Xai-Xai Chicken is an absolute necessity. Order it with a side of their Bolo do Caco, a round sweet potato flatbread with garlic butter. It’s crisp on the outside, warm and fluffy on the inside and does a good job of soaking up all the beer you’ve been drinking.

Dias Tavern

Dias Tavern is a national treasure. The iconic red plastic seats, the Portuguese green tables, the little flags floating from the ceiling. It’s one of those places in Cape Town where you know everyone around you is there for exactly the same reason as you: to eat good food, drink cold beer and maybe have a silly boogie to whichever cover singer is playing on a Friday night. My perfect meal at Dias involves a pint of Super Bock, a starter of chorizo, calamari tentacles and prawn rissoles, followed by the chicken espetada and another pint of Super Bock. It’s the platonic ideal of a restaurant.