If I may pass along some sage advice about traveling in Spain and Portugal, it would be this: mind the cubiertos. You know that bread in a baggie that’s dropped off on your table in a manner so casual and gracious you’re certain it’s free? Well, it’s not.

Pop open the pan and you can be sure a cubierto – cover charge – will also pop up on your bill.

And you know those lovely looking goose barnacles served as a starter at that fine seafood restaurant on the coast north of Lisbon? The ones the waiter delivered to your table the moment you sat down, and practically called a gift from the chef?

Okay, maybe your limited Portuguese misunderstood the gift part. But still…did you really deserve the six euro fleecing on top of your already hefty bill? It’s a fine line in Europe, knowing when something is given as a little gift and when you’re going to end up paying – often dearly – for the pleasure.

Usually, at the end of the meal, if you’re offered a small shot of alcohol, you can count on it being a thank you gesture from the restaurant. If you’re not sure, you can ask. But that can end up being embarrassing, too.

The way I see it, anything offered to me before I’ve ordered is suspect. I’ve found that in Spain and Portugal in particular – and especially in the more touristy cities such as Barcelona and Salamanca – anything just dropped off at the table implies a cubierto.

In Portugal, I passed on the initial bread offering at one restaurant, but naively believed that the second basket of tiny melba toasts delivered with my meal was included. Needless to say, it wasn’t. Those Europeans are clever, I tell you.

And it can get even trickier once you’re onto the cubierto concept, and try to outfox them by not eating the bread. In Spain, I found myself trying to argue the cubierto off my bill, indicating the bread rolls in their little baggies, pushed to the edge of the table in rejection.

“Are you sure you didn’t have any bread?” demanded the waiter. And I found myself wondering if somehow I had.

- by Terry Ward