I Ate Some Food.
I've been in Brazil for about a month now, and I'm very behind on the things I want to write about. So, please forgive the brevity and somewhat chaotic nature of the following post – we have a lot to get through...
For anyone who's actually following this, you'll remember I ended my last post with a tease about one of the best meals I've ever eaten. Since I wrote that line, I've been thinking about how best to describe that meal; not even how best to describe it, but how I might describe it at all.
Generally Speaking
I'll briefly say the food in Brazil is fantastic. Across the board, there are so many dishes, drinks, snacks, fruits, breads, cakes, sweets, and other things that don't fit into any of my personal food categories – and I have yet to meet one I didn't at least find intriguing.
This really is a country that's best enjoyed with a group of locals, surrounding a table of fragrant foods – both salty and sweet. They'll welcome you with the best hugs you've ever had, and enthusiastic invitations to have a seat and eat.
The Set-Up
One such meal was at a restaurant owned by my new brother-in-law’s good friend. I had the pleasure of having a very special meal at Croco Bar, in Santo André. It was special, because the owner very kindly offered to make our group (family and a few friends) a traditional Northeastern Brazilian meal.
This was a professional chef, who was making us the food of his home region, far away, and very different to what I'd been served so far. I was pumped.
He prefaced this meal, two nights before, as I ate some of the best sushi I've ever had, at another of my brother-in-law's friend's restaurants. This one was at Manza Sushi Bar – I wrote a review of that place here.
Respect the Cook
While we ate the life-changing sushi, the owner of the other restaurant (Croco Bar), told me how insanely complicated the meal he was going to make was. He was in no way bragging – he was simply trying to tell me what I should expect.
In the interest of keeping this post reasonably short, I'll spare you the details – suffice it to say, this man went to great efforts to ensure we had the best possible ingredients and the most meticulous preparations imaginable.
Now, the meal...
I don't know what was in most of this, but I'll do my best to quickly describe each dish. The pictures suck, and the aforementioned descriptions will match that theme, so use your imagination and book a ticket to Brazil – trust me.
Clockwise from top left:
Tapioca squares, to be dipped in the sweet/spicy relish on the bottom
Fried halloumi cheese, drizzled with honey
Giant popcorn chicken
These were all on our tables, as we arrived. I had to make a point of slowing myself down...
I forgot to take a picture of this, until it was half done...
Some kind of meat – probably the flesh of angels – under an insanely delicious cheese. This one vanished.
I think this was a deviation from the traditional Brazilian dishes, but I very much welcomed it.
I'm pretty sure you all know what this was...
When this landed on the table, I must admit I had a thought in my head of "yay... beans and rice..." but
I swear, this was a serious contender for the best dish of the night. I don't know what it was, but that rice had the most creamy sauce, and that cheese was just so... mmm...
The fish was fantastic.
The mushrooms were strange, but delicious. I think they were soaked in some kind of alcohol...
The risotto had a level of concentrated cheese I didn't know was possible. It was like eating a million tiny hugs; and all those hugs were hugging each other; and they were all inviting you into their cheesy hug of happiness.
This is it.
After all of the other dishes, we had about a half-hour break before the main event. This was the dish that the chef described to me in such detail two nights before.
I have no idea what it was, other than couscous and chicken.
What I do know is, I could taste the effort in making this dish. I could taste the fact that this took generations to perfect. I could taste the simplicity and love.
This is what people mean by soul food.
Slow clap.
I know I should have taken notes or something. I should know what these dishes were called, or what was in them. Hell, I didn't even really tell you what they tasted like!
My intention was never to have you re-live this meal. My intention was to describe to you how much passion and effort goes into the food here; how different is weird and fantastic at the same time.
You know the way a painting can bring a tear to one's eye? I do not exaggerate when I say this meal was a work of art worthy of tears. The late Anthony Bourdain would have been proud to sit at that table.
Those who work so hard to produce such wonders – whichever culture they're from, or medium they work with – deserve our respect.
They have mine.
Now pass me the Gaviscon, please...
If you enjoyed this post, and would like to buy me a coffee, you can do so here.
