One of the reasons I love visiting Macau is for the inexpensive wine. Yes, the food is wonderful, but wine is the only thing I get to tote back to mainland China and enjoy weeks (okay, days) later.

The former Portuguese colony used to have no import taxes on Portuguese wines. Even now the import taxes are so low that bottles of good Portuguese wines start at about 5 USD, much cheaper than French, Italian, even Chilean. (I have a tip on a bar that serves 75 cent glasses of reds and whites, and $1.25 glasses of port. I'll report back in a later entry.) According to a well-traveled local friend, Macau has the least expensive Ports anywhere in the world, including Portugal, since the wine producers want to keep the market in Asia open. True enough, it's common to see Hong Kongers and China-residing expats hauling home suitcases of Portuguese wine.

On this trip I decided to bring back white Port. Rather than drinking it as a dessert wine like red Port, you chill it and drink it as an aperatif. It's richer, more mouth-filling than a fino or amontillado sherry. (My Ramos Pinto dry white has a nice hint of peach.) Besides, on chilly winter evenings before dinner, you need something heavier in your belly to keep warm. Especially after a long day in front of the computer.

If you have never been to Macau, or Restaurante Litoral, I urge you to get on a plane or ferry this instant.

Macanese food is one of the best little-known cuisines I have come across. It dates back almost 500 years, from when the Portuguese settled on a little peninsula of fishing villages and married into local Chinese families. Over time, the Portuguese-Chinese fusion picked up influences from around Southeast Asia and other colonies in Africa, Goa, and Brazil. One of the best spots in Macau to taste real Macanese cooking is Restaurante Litoral, a beautiful two-storey restaurant on Rua do Almirante Sérgio.

The upstairs dining was enormous (the owners also took over the 2nd floor of the next building), but because of the slideable wooden doors, it still felt intimate. Litoral is a rare restaurant that can be popular with both locals and tourists; my companions were two British expats who have lived in Macau since the early 1980s, and claim this restaurant serves the best Macanese dishes.

Caldo verde (potato and kale soup, in top photo) is similar to the Portuguese original, but instead of kale the locals use the more abundant bok choy. Though like the Portuguese, we doused the tops of our soups with extra olive oil.

In my previous trips to Macau, I had only explored the Central and Southern parts of Macau island. On Valentine's Day, Jacob and I took another day trip to the former Portuguese colony and headed to a part that wasn't engulfed in casino and resort construction. After crossing the border, we hopped on a free shuttle to Hotel Lisboa, and from there caught a bus to Coloane, Macau's southernmost island.

Coloane is a tiny, laid-back island that is a great antidote to Central Macau's bustling streets. I, for one, was glad to get away from the diesel fumes and noise of motorcycle engines. (Motorcycles were out in full force yesterday, probably Spring Festival vacationers expending last bits of pent-up energy before starting work again.) Coloane Village is a nice place to walk around for an hour and admire the low-lying buildings that fuse Portuguese and Chinese styles. I was reminded of little villages in Lantau and Hong Kong's New Territories, where people leave their doors open and you can peak in and see what locals are eating for lunch, or watching on TV. (Not that I peak, of course.)

Central Macau is full of food stalls selling a variety of Macanese and Cantonese treats. It's possible to spend an entire day eating without resting your feet, though resting your feet has its own merits, of course. The street in front of the Forteleza de Monte is especially appealing, and one of the first spots you'll see is Pastelaria Koi Kei, buzzing with pastry hounds.

For days before coming to Macau I had been daydreaming of Macanese egg tarts, also known as Portuguese-style egg tarts. Koi Kei keeps them in a warming oven in the front of the store, and for 6 patacas (75 cents) you can have a hot and fragrant egg tart of your very own. Whereas Cantonese egg tarts (sweetened egg custard inside a flaky shell) are tasty enough, the Macanese version goes one step further with a caramelized top, not unlike crème brûlée. The top isn't delicate enough to crack with a spoon, but the entire tart is good enough to be gobbled up in seconds.

Koi Kei was also handing out samples of its almond cookies, tastier than what I've been able to find on mainland China. Varieties include almond cookies with whole walnuts, with egg yolk, even with shredded pork jerky. And speaking of jerky, the store was handing out free samples of that too. Eager customers bought bags of jerky - spicy, regular, pork, beef - by the kilo.

As a frequent traveler, I have crossed political borders in many ways: by plane, train, bus, car, and boat. On our day trip to Macau yesterday, I walked across a border for the first time after taking a bus from Zhongshan to the Chinese/Macau customs. On the other side lay a place that is very much Cantonese in lifestyle and language, but where you will find a huge amount of culinary diversity.

Macau was a Portuguese colony until 1999, when it was returned to China. It remains a Special Administrative Region like Hong Kong, which means it gets its own Special boundaries, laws, and Special access to bulk imports of Portuguese sausages. The thought of delicious cured meat compelled me to wander the narrow hilly streets in search of Portuguese and Macanese fare, which is a combination of Portuguese, African, and Southeast Asian cooking.