The wind in Setúbal smells of salt, diesel, and something ancient. It’s the scent of the Sado River meeting the Atlantic, a briny perfume that clings to the cobblestones of the old town and gets caught in your hair as you stand on the ferry deck watching the bottle-nosed dolphins play in the distance. By 2026, the rhythm of this city, oscillating between a hardworking industrial port and a laid-back maritime haven, remains stubbornly, wonderfully itself. And at the heart of that rhythm is the food.
Tróia, across the estuary, is the other side of the same coin. Where Setúbal is grizzled, textured, and deeply authentic, Tróia is its sun-bleached, sandy-toed cousin. It is a whisper of the Algarve dropped onto the Silver Coast, a place of pristine dunes, pine-scented air, and resorts that hum with a quiet, expensive luxury. But the kitchen stories here, even in the starched white tablecloth restaurants of the golf resorts, all begin in the same place: the water.
To talk about the "best" seafood in this region is a fool's errand if you are looking for a single, definitive answer. The quality here is so high, so consistently fresh, that the "best" becomes a question of mood, of atmosphere, of whether you want to be elbow-to-elbow with fishermen in a tiled tavern or watching the sunset dip below the horizon from a minimalist terrace. I’ve spent years navigating these waters, tasting my way from the bustling docks of Setúbal to the quiet, windswept coves of Tróia. This is the map of those tastings, a guide to the places that define the seafood landscape of 2026.
Setúbal doesn't do pretense. Its culinary heart beats loudest in the neighborhoods of Troino and the Bairro do Pêssego, where the streets are narrow and the restaurants are often little more than a bar, a few tables, and a kitchen that smells of a lifetime of frying fish. This is where you come for the choco frito.
Address: Rua das Velhas, 14, 2900-363 Setúbal, Portugal
Hours: Tuesday - Sunday, 12:00 PM - 3:30 PM & 7:00 PM - 10:30 PM (Closed Monday)
You smell Tachadas before you see it. It’s a pungent, glorious cloud of hot oil, garlic, and the faint, sweet perfume of caramelizing onion. Tucked away on a street that feels like a film set for a 1970s Portuguese drama, this place is a temple to the art of the squid. Not the delicate, barely-kissed-by-the-pan kind, but the glorious, indulgent, "I-might-need-a-nap-after-this" kind.
The room is a chaotic symphony of white and blue azulejos, dark wood, and the clatter of plates. The walls are covered in photos of old Setúbal, signed menus from regulars, and the kind of faded memorabilia that can't be bought. I remember my first time here. It was a Tuesday in November, rain lashing against the window panes, and I was the only non-local. I ordered the choco frito (fried cuttlefish) on the recommendation of the grizzled man next to me, who communicated this with a sharp nod and a pointed finger at my empty plate.
What arrived was a mountain. A golden, glistening hillock of squid, cut into rings and tentacles, coated in a batter so light it was barely there. The secret, I learned later, is the resting period. The batter is made, then left to sit, allowing the starches to settle. It’s fried in olive oil, not the neutral stuff, which gives it a fruity, slightly peppery backnote. You eat it with your hands, pulling the tender, slightly chewy flesh from the crisp casing. It’s a messy, joyous affair. The squid isn't rubbery; it has a bounce, a life of its own. Served simply with lemon wedges and a crusty bread to mop up the stray bits of batter and oil, it is a perfect dish. A plate of their clams, ameijoas à bulhão pato, simmered in a bath of garlic, cilantro, and white wine, is the essential sidekick. The broth is so good you’ll be tempted to drink it from the bowl. Don't be tempted. Ask for more bread instead. It’s what the locals do.
Address: Avenida Luisa Todi, 1990-232 Setúbal, Portugal
Hours: Daily, 12:00 PM - 3:00 PM & 7:00 PM - 10:30 PM
If Tachadas is the hidden, boisterous tavern, Doca Peixe is the grand dame sitting proudly by the water's edge. It’s located on the main drag, Avenida Luisa Todi, which runs along the river. The location is prime, the view is of the ferries chugging towards Tróia, and the restaurant has been serving the best of the catch for decades. The vibe here is more formal, but the focus remains on the product.
This is the place for seafood rice. In Portugal, a arroz de marisco can be a dish of profound disappointment or life-altering glory. At Doca Peixe, it is the latter. It arrives in a massive, steaming earthenware pot, a dark, brothy landscape of rice, shrimp, clams, mussels, and often chunks of monkfish or other white fish. The rice isn't fluffy; it’s trocadilho, meaning it has absorbed almost all the liquid, becoming creamy and intensely flavored. Each grain is saturated with the essence of the sea. They are generous with the tamba, the prized, sweet shrimp heads, which you suck on for a burst of umami that tastes of the estuary itself.
I once came here with a friend from Lisbon who scoffed at the idea of driving an hour for rice. Two hours later, he was scraping the bottom of the pot with a spoon, a look of serene contentment on his face. "It tastes," he said, "like the ocean decided to become a casserole." He wasn't wrong. The grilled fish, often sea bass or sea bream (dourada), is also impeccable. It’s cooked over charcoal, the skin blistered and crisp, the flesh moist and flaky. It needs nothing more than a drizzle of good olive oil and a sprinkle of salt. This is Setúbal on a plate: generous, unapologetic, and utterly delicious.
Address: Rua de São Julião, 62, 2900-343 Setúbal, Portugal
Hours: Tuesday - Saturday, 12:00 PM - 3:00 PM & 7:00 PM - 10:00 PM (Closed Sunday & Monday)
To understand the evolution of Setúbal's dining scene, you need to visit O Mú. It’s still in the historic center, still feels intimate and rooted, but there’s a modern sensibility at play. The chef, Nuno Mota, has a deep respect for the traditions of the Sado but isn't afraid to experiment. The space is smaller, more contemporary than the others, with an open kitchen where you can watch the team work with focused intensity.
This is where you should order the conquilhas. These are tiny, sweet clams, a local delicacy, often sautéed with alho (garlic) and coentro (coriander). At O Mú, they serve them in a small, cast-iron skillet, bubbling furiously. The aroma is intoxicating. They are so fresh they taste of the moment they were pulled from the sand. Another standout is their take on cuttlefish, perhaps stewed with white beans and chouriço, a hearty, soulful dish that bridges the gap between the sea and the land.
My most vivid memory here was of a dessert: a deconstructed pastel de nata with a sea salt foam. It sounds gimmicky, but it worked. The bitter caramel of the custard, the flaky pastry, and the saline kick of the foam was a nod to the surrounding salt pans. It told me that O Mú is thinking not just about the fish on the plate, but about the entire ecosystem, the entire flavor profile of the region. It’s a must-visit for anyone who thinks they know Setúbal, to see how its culinary story is still being written.
The ferry ride to Tróia is a transition. You leave the industrial panorama of Setúbal behind and glide towards a landscape of white sand and green pines. Tróia is a different beast. It’s about leisure, nature, and a more polished aesthetic. The seafood here is often the same as in Setúbal—caught in the same waters—but the presentation, the setting, and the price point are a world away.
Address: Estrada da Figueirinha, 7570-785 Tróia, Portugal
Hours: Daily, 12:30 PM - 3:30 PM & 7:00 PM - 10:30 PM (Seasonal variations may apply)
You don't come to Mar à Vista for a quick lunch. You come for an afternoon. It’s located on Figueirinha beach, one of the most beautiful stretches of sand on the peninsula. The restaurant is a wooden structure perched right on the dunes. The floor is sand. The ceiling is the sky. The view is of the Atlantic, a vast, shimmering expanse that makes you feel wonderfully small.
The menu is a testament to the Algarve influence on Tróia. While you can get the classic arroz de marisco, the star here is the cataplana. This iconic clamshell-shaped copper pot is a vessel for slow-cooked, steamy perfection. The seafood cataplana is a riot of color and texture: clams, mussels, prawns, squid, and chunks of chorizo and pork, all stewed together with tomatoes, peppers, onions, and white wine. When the waiter brings it to your table and lifts the lid, a cloud of aromatic steam envelops you. It’s pure theater.
Eating at Mar à Vista is a sensory immersion. The sound of the waves, the feel of the breeze, the taste of the salt on your lips, and the rich, comforting food. It’s a place to order a bottle of crisp Vinho Verde, to let the hours slip by, to swim in the cool Atlantic between courses. It is, in essence, the definition of a perfect summer holiday meal. It’s not about subtlety; it’s about abundance, joy, and the sheer pleasure of eating fresh food in a stunningly beautiful location.
Address: Rua do Poço, 7570-783 Tróia, Portugal
Hours: Tuesday - Sunday, 12:00 PM - 3:00 PM & 7:00 PM - 10:00 PM (Closed Monday)
To find the "real" Tróia, you have to leave the beach and venture into the village. Ribeira do Poço is the antithesis of the beachfront grandeur. It’s a small, unassuming restaurant, popular with the golfers from the resorts and locals who know where to get a proper meal without the resort markup. The decor is simple, the service is brisk and friendly, and the food is a masterclass in Portuguese home cooking.
This is the place to try the local specialty: choco frito again, but with a Tróia twist. Here, it’s often served alongside pata negra (black pork) or with a side of fried potatoes that have absorbed the same glorious oil. But the dish that keeps me coming back is the robalo (sea bass) grilled over wood charcoal. In a region obsessed with frying, Ribeira do Poço’s commitment to the grill is a statement. The fish is sourced from the local fishermen’s cooperative that morning. The skin is a crackling, salty shield, and the flesh is so moist it flakes apart at the mere suggestion of a fork.
I once saw a table of eight here, a multi-generational family, order one of everything. The table became a tapestry of seafood: a whole grilled dourada, a pan of clams, a platter of prawns, a dish of rice. They ate, they laughed, they argued, they shared. It was a portrait of community, centered around food. That’s what Ribeira do Poço offers. It’s not just a restaurant; it’s a living room for the community, a place where the food is the language they speak. It’s authentic, unpretentious, and deeply satisfying.
Address: Pátio do Mar, Lote 1.02.04, 7570-783 Tróia, Portugal
Hours: Daily, 12:30 PM - 3:00 PM & 7:00 PM - 10:30 PM
Tróia is also home to a significant Italian expat community, drawn by the sun, the sea, and the golf. This fusion is beautifully represented at Ilha@Mar. Located near the marina, this restaurant proves that the principles of great seafood are universal. It’s a more formal, elegant affair, with a beautiful terrace and a sophisticated, modern interior.
The menu is a dialogue between Portugal and Italy. You’ll find arroz de marisco sitting alongside spaghetti alle vongole (clams). And the magic is that both are executed with equal passion and skill. The pasta is al dente, the clams are sweet and briny, the sauce is garlicky and clean, and a scattering of chili flakes adds a gentle warmth. It’s a testament to the chef’s skill that the Italian dishes don’t feel like an afterthought but a natural extension of the seaside location.
But the dish that defines this place is the Linguine all’Astice. A whole, fresh lobster, split and grilled, its meat chopped and tossed through pasta with cherry tomatoes, garlic, and a splash of cognac. It’s a luxurious, decadent dish that costs a pretty penny, but for a special occasion, it’s worth every cent. It’s a celebration of the sea, viewed through a different cultural lens. It reminds us that Setúbal and Tróia are not an island; they are part of a wider Mediterranean world of sun, sea, and spectacular food.
In 2026, the conversation around seafood is louder, more conscious. It’s not just about taste; it’s about traceability and sustainability. This is where the region truly shines. The small-scale fisheries, the armações (beach fish markets) like the one at Praia do Portinho da Arrábida, and the direct-to-consumer sales from the boats at the Cacilhas dock in Setúbal are the backbone of this ethos. When you eat here, you are often eating fish that was hooked hours, not days, ago.
To truly understand the seafood culture, I recommend a morning immersion. Start at the Mercado do Livramento in Setúbal (Praça do Quebedo, 2900-343 Setúbal), open from 6 AM to 2 PM. It’s a symphony of chaos and commerce. Don't just look; ask. Talk to the vendors. They are the gatekeepers of the daily catch. They’ll tell you what’s good, what came in from the Peniche boats, what the dolphins were chasing yesterday. Buy some olives, some local cheese, and maybe a piece of mascote (monkfish) to cook later.
Then, take the 25-minute ferry from Cacilhas to Tróia. It’s not just transport; it’s an orientation. You see the Sado, you see the dolphins, you see the scale of the place. It connects the food on your plate to the water it came from.
As dusk settles over the peninsula, a golden light washes over everything. The water turns to molten metal. This is the magic hour. Whether you’re on a terrace in Setúbal watching the lights of the marina flicker on, or on the beach in Tróia with your feet in the cooling sand, the taste of the sea lingers. It’s in the salt on your skin, the memory of a perfectly fried squid, the lingering warmth of a chili-infused pasta.
The best seafood in Setúbal and Tróia isn't just a list of restaurants. It's a feeling. It's the confidence of knowing that the fish on your plate has a story, a short and honest one, that begins in this very estuary and ends, beautifully, in your mouth. It’s a taste of a place that is proud of its water, its history, and its future. And in 2026, that taste is better than ever.