There are Sunday lunches, and then there was Folly & Feast Vol.4 — held high above Lisbon on the Ando Living rooftop, where the river seems to stretch out just far enough to slow everyone’s heartbeat by half a beat. It was the kind of afternoon that didn’t need much embellishment: sunshine, a soft breeze, and a table full of people ready to settle in for a few unhurried hours.
The cooking was entrusted to Ali Bilton, mother of Howard’s Folly managing director Tom and a chef whose career has wandered through Michelin‑starred kitchens, royal dining rooms, and even the McLaren F1 team during the Senna and Prost years. Not your average Sunday roast pedigree, but then again, this wasn’t your average Sunday.
Things began with a wink: 1995 Carcavelos Bloody Marys, a combination that sounded slightly rebellious but made perfect sense once tasted — savoury, warming, and just decadent enough to signal that the day was going to unfold at its own pace. Sonhador Rosé 2024 joined in, bright and breezy, the kind of wine that feels tailor‑made for rooftops and long lunches.
The starter — mushroom parfait with marinated shiitake and pickled shallots — was earthy, silky, and quietly confident. Sonhador Branco 2024 stepped in with its freshness and gentle lift, giving the parfait just enough brightness to keep things lively without overshadowing the dish.
Then came the moment everyone had been waiting for: roast rib‑eye of beef with all the trimmings. Crisp potatoes, proper gravy, Yorkshire puddings that held their shape, vegetables cooked with care — the sort of plate that makes you nostalgic for Sundays you wish you’d grown up with. Sonhador Tinto 2020 was the natural partner, generous and structured, the kind of red that settles comfortably into the rhythm of a roast.
Dessert arrived with a flourish: meringue roulade with raspberry, Drambuie, and passion fruit cream, light enough to keep you going, indulgent enough to make you pause. And here the Howard’s Folly Carcavelos 1995 returned — this time not in a Bloody Mary, but in its pure, amber‑hued form. Its mellow sweetness and gentle depth wrapped around the roulade beautifully, the sort of pairing that makes you close your eyes for a moment longer than you meant to.
By late afternoon, the rooftop had taken on that soft, contented hum that only good lunches manage to create. People lingered, the river kept glinting, and Ali moved through the tables with the quiet satisfaction of someone who knows she’s fed people well.
It wasn’t a complicated event. It didn’t need to be. Just a beautiful setting, thoughtful cooking, and wines that felt perfectly at home in the sunshine. A Sunday worth remembering.
