Malassadas

Eaten warm, they are light and airy inside, with a wafer-thin crust that crackles and, in many versions, a thread of orange running through the dough. The sugar and cinnamon outside bring the sweetness; the dough itself is restrained, more bread than cake. Well-drained, they never cloy — the secret is to eat them straight from the pan.

Malassadas turn up across the islands, with small differences in dough and seasoning — some heavier on orange, others with a splash of aguardente. The shape varies too: sometimes small flattened rounds in the style of filhós, sometimes larger and stretched, occasionally holed in the middle. The version that travelled the world, like the Hawaiian malasada, tends to be larger and is sometimes filled with custard. On the mainland, sonhos and filhós are the closest cousins.

First and foremost at home, at Carnival — that is when they are best, fresh from the pan. Around Fat Tuesday they appear in bakeries, fairs and festivals across São Miguel and the wider archipelago. Visitors outside the season will find them in a few traditional houses that keep them year-round.

A strong espresso or a cup of Azorean tea — São Miguel is home to Gorreana, the oldest tea plantation in Europe, and the only tea grown on Portuguese soil. For the full festive spirit, a small glass of aguardente alongside.