For Francisca Camelo, poet, diseuse and feminist, the day begins with breakfast, "the most important meal of the day". What can we say about "the work that went into getting to the quasi-ritual moment of breakfast on the table, fresh, steaming, ready to be devoured?". Behind a set table, there is always someone who has prepared it. In this memory space, records of his childhood echo from time to time, the flavour of his mother's buttered toast and the smell of barley when she entered the kitchen. A memory she reveals in The Importance of Breakfast, where she thanks her mum for all the breakfasts. In this regard, she refers to the lyrics of the song "Maçadeiras do Meu Linho": "Ó minha mãe dos trabalhos / para quem trabalho eu? / Trabalho mato meu corpo / não tenho nada de meu".

This book of poetry deals with memories, but above all, "it talks about the invisibility of domestic labour and the theory of social reproduction from a feminist perspective," she says. Through poetry, Francisca questions the current place of women in society: all those tasks that are usually attributed to women, such as taking and picking up children from school, feeding and dressing them, buying food, making meals and washing the dishes, "all this is part of that invisible labour that keeps the world turning and working," she explains.

Francisca Camelo's world doesn't work without food, nor does it work without an abundance of 'cooked' words, so it's not surprising that her itinerary for eating poetry in Porto includes spaces full of memories where words are served and savoured. "There's Casa Odara, a place where I myself organise some poetry sessions; it's a space that, like the café we're in, Dona Mira, is run by Brazilians. They both decided to transform the spaces into places that absorbed cultural activities. I really like Pipa Velha; there aren't necessarily poetry sessions, but it's a place where you meet a lot of people who are already into that sort of thing. We end up meeting either accidentally or on purpose to talk about these topics. There's obviously Pinguim, which I think is inseparable from Porto's literary history."

Barley remains in her memory of taste, but she has replaced it with coffee. "When I think of Porto, I think of coffee [drink and place], Porto is a city of coffee shops; it's still small enough to have a meeting, and where coffee might not cost two euros yet." In fact, Francisca feels comfortable in neighbourhood cafés and you're most likely to see her in the bakery opposite her house "eating a piece of toast and drinking a coffee".

Between cafés, books and poetry, Francisca Camelo will continue to give us poetry to eat and give a voice to the women who put bread, coffee and fruit on the table every day, so that they never remain invisible when they share their hearts at the first meal of the day.