I’ve written before about the old-time, traditional Lisbon—the Lisbon of ginjinha bars, azulejo tiles, and creaky trams. I love this Lisbon, and it’s why my first drink is almost always a shot of classic cherry liqueur at Ginjinha Sem Rival. I follow that by riding the escalator up into the narrow alleys of the Mouraria neighborhood. There, I have lunch at Zé da Mouraria, a classic tasca—an everyday tavern— where you can eat huge platters of bacalhau washed down with vinho verde at long tables lined with white paper, under posters of fado queen Amália Rodrigues.

But to only talk about that Lisbon is to neglect the city’s new generation of bars and restaurants, as well as the exciting new wave of Portuguese wines. The influx of tourists to Lisbon has certainly brought numerous problems, but it’s also brought many nice things.

You can see this just a short walk from Zé da Mouraria in a relatively gentrified strip of the neighborhood, halfway up the hill to the Castelo de São Jorge. My choice for the first stop of the evening would be Quattro Teste, one of the best cocktail bars I’ve visited in any city. Run by Alf del Portillo, from Spain’s Basque Country, and Marta Premoli, from Lombardia, Italy, at Quattro Teste you can start with a shot of cider straight from the barrel, Basque style. Then move on to Alf’s take on the low-brow classic kalimotxo. It’s usually just a mix of red wine and Coke, but his version has a healthy pour of Amaro Lucano and a splash of Branca Menta to make it a kalimotxo revelation.

A few doors down from Quattro Teste is Tasca Baldracca, a fun, Instagrammable sort of Lisbon-tasca-meets-natty-wine-bar with a menu that mixes Portuguese specialities (blood sausage, codfish cakes, suckling pig) and international fare (veal cheeks, grilled octopus, beet salad, “surf and turf” hot dog). “Take a photo of the chalkboard because that’s your menu,” says the guy who seats you. The graffiti on the wall reads, in English, “Fine Dining is Dead.” That’s a message that certainly resonates, as we’ve discussed this summer. Tasca Baldracca makes a good case for what should come next.

So does Bistrô Bichomau, in Campo de Ourique, one of Lisbon’s up-and-coming neighborhoods. Bistrô Bichomau has a bit more inventive, surprising menu. We ate smoked whitefish (served with billowing smoke at the table) sprinkled with São Jorge cheese and pickles, sea urchin roe with violet prawn mayonnaise, oyster and whitefish tartar with a lemon sauce, and a plate of exquisite, thinly sliced headcheese. (Yes, I am calling the headcheese exquisite.)

But my favorite restaurant in Lisbon right now might be Pigmeu, right around the corner from Bistrô Bichomau. Pigmeu, as the name suggests, is a nose-to-tail spot that’s all about free-range pork from the southern, rural Alentejo region of Portugal.

Before dinner in Campo de Ourique, I suggest visiting Cave da Estrela, a wonderful, closet-sized neighborhood wine shop. Owner João Xavier can take you on a guided tour of Portugal’s natural wine scene. If you reach out in advance, he can schedule tastings.

While I enjoy hanging out in Mouraria and Campo de Ourique, I generally stay in the Bairro Alto neighborhood, up the hill from the central Rossio square. I generally stop for breakfast at Padaria São Roque, which bills itself as the “Cathedral of Bread,” and I love the view of the city, from Miradouro de São Pedro de Alcântara.

Bairro Alto is home to dozens of hole-in-the-walls bars, and, later in the evening, the streets teem with crowds. I try to avoid those hordes, and instead check out a few bars around the Jardim do Príncipe Real. The quirky charm and decor of longtime fave Pavilhão Chinês—a real-life cabinet of curiosities stuffed with tchotchkes, dolls, action figures, model planes and boats, military uniforms, antique dishes and more—is a perfect backdrop for classic cocktails. There’s also Jobim, a Brazilian bar that’s become one of my go-tos. (It’s also where I’ve had the strongest caipirinhas of my life.)

Five minutes’ walk from the Jardim do Príncipe Real is Lisbon’s top natural wine bar, Black Sheep, a tiny spot with a crowd that reliably spills onto the sidewalk. There’s no menu at Black Sheep; the guys behind the bar just sort of tell you what they’re pouring, which is a mix of Portuguese and international natty faves.

But my favorite wine bar in Lisbon might be the fantastic Nova Wine Bar in Chiado, just down the road from Bairro Alto. At Nova, owner Pedro Caixado will take you on a wonderful tour through Portugal’s rare grape varieties, accompanied by snacks like an incredible swordfish carpaccio and paper-thin slices of lardo. On my last visit I tasted whites from native grapes like Jampal, Viosinho, and Antão Vaz to reds from Ramisco and Negra Mole—the latter of which may be the oldest red grape in Portugal.

In fact, a glass of age-old Negra Mole at a very modern wine bar in Lisbon may be the perfect metaphor for the old and new of the city itself.