Christmas Special 2

This is just a quick one to tell you what Brazilians eat on the actual Christmas Day. Now, I haven’t been to every house in this country to check the pots and pans, so my research is not representative of the whole nation. I based it on one, heavily Portuguese-influenced, family (yes, my BF’s family).

Starter:

Strips of aubergine, courgette, onion, green pepper, tomatoes – baked in the oven and soaked with extra virgin olive oil. Simple and delicious. Served cold with bread. Not only during Christmas, by the way.

Main course(s):

There was bacalhau (100% Portuguese tradition) – dried salted cod that you later soak and prepare in one (or more) of the 365 styles your family tends to prefer. We had bacalhau in olive oil with garlic, on a bed of boiled potatoes, eggs and roasted green peppers, garnished with olives. The fish was so juicy and springy that I could barely keep myself from having a second helping.

But I also wanted to try pernil. In simple terms, it was a huge roasted pork leg. Nothing too fancy, but the flavouring made the meat succulent and soft at the same time. Mmmm...

Good Lord, I nearly forgot about the soup! Caldo verde. Served all over Portugal and, apparently, in some Brazilian families. The clear version is a broth prepared with pork sausage and bacon. The green part (verde) is provided by special kind of dark-leaved cabbage. There is also a creamy version – you just add mashed potatoes which give the soup a rich mushy texture. Delicious.

Dessert

I barely had room for it! It may not look too appetising, but this pudding was heavenly! Very light, I suppose it’s made from nothing more than milk and sugar.

 If you think I stopped there, you’re wrong. I had to try these:

Why? Because I had made them! These are Polish cookies. They don’t really have a special name, but their buttery taste is what makes them special. And I want to give special thanks to Milena for the recipe. OK, I’m done. Go enjoy your New Year’s Eve, if you haven’t already started to party. See you in 2012!!!

Christmas Special – Where are the strawberries?

I realise you may still be digesting your Christmas dinner turkeys, roast potatoes, carps, herrings or whatever your family tends to have, but this is exactly why I want to tell you about Christmas in Brazil. Before you switch from your table-sofa-table-sofa-bed routine to New Year’s Eve preparations.

Let’s start with Christmas Eve. It’s not exactly a big thing in the UK whereas in Poland that’s what Christmas is all about: the huge evening meal on 24^th December. Here in Brazil, it’s something in between. Where I am (the outskirts of São Paulo), it was a simple family dinner, with one dish. A few relatives were invited. I had been told that the father would prepare something special - camarões no morango, prawns with strawberries. How exciting, I love prawns! Never thought you could serve them with this particular fruit, but hey, I’m open to new culinary experiences.

On the day, I got a little confused when I saw this in the oven:

In Poland we serve soup in bread, so I suppose you can serve prawns in a pumpkin. It looked really appetising. A white creamy sauce was poured next to the steaming rice, garnished with freshly chopped spring onions. The smell of garlic made my mouth water.

I sat down with my plate, ready to stick my fork in. But then I remembered. Strawberries! Where are they? I looked intensely at the pink bits but they were nothing more than cooked prawns. Still confused, I quietly asked my boyfriend. He started laughing. It was camarões na moranga – prawns in a pumpkin. The closest thing to strawberries was my red face...

P.S. I absolutely loved the dish. It was one of the tastiest homemade foods I have eaten so far. No strawberries, true, but the mushy pumpkin bits did the prawns just as well.

Saudade

So I decided to come back. The money ran out and I wouldn’t be able to afford to stay another two months as planned. I’m already in London, thinking how badly I had calculated everything. I have to start looking for a job NOW. I’m angry and disappointed. That’s not how it was supposed to be. What about Brazilian Christmas? What about the carnival? I may never have another chance to see it. And my boyfriend is only coming in March. Is it a good idea to be away from a guy for two months? I’ll wither away with saudade*. I met up with a close friend and told her all my worries. Told her how quickly my dream had come to an end and how sorry I was feeling for myself for letting things turn out this way. She listened patiently and tried to comfort me. I leaned on her shoulder and started to cry. Uncontrollably. I rubbed my eyes and almost doubled with the pain of regret. And then I woke up. Eyes still wet. It was just a bad dream. I’m still in Brazil. And determined to make the most it.

*saudade – one of those words which are very difficult to translate to English; it usually denotes a general feeling of sadness and longing for something (often from the past; friends, family, good times). When referring to people, it simply means that you miss them.

Food, glorious food

So, I’ve been here for nearly a month now and only three posts. Some people, including my mum, have already told me off! But I’ve been busy... Sunbathing, resting, watching films, playing music, going to restaurants. OK, OK, I’ll stop teasing you. I’ve been gaining weight as well, if that’s going to make you feel any better. One of the reasons is that the food in Brazil is veeeery good. It’s not just the variety of dishes from all over the world (rumour has it that they make better pizzas here than in Italy, but I’ve yet to confirm that), it’s the quality. I don’t have to tell you how fresh and sweet the fruits are here as you would have guessed. Bananas ripen in front of your eyes, mangoes lure you with their sweet’n’sour smell, pomegranates flash their deep-red insides as you stroll in your (or your boyfriend’s grandmother’s) garden. The other day I tried a fresh guava (goiaba), for the first time in my life, and was surprised to discover how creamy it is. Sensational.

Fruits aside, the real deal is the meat. And I don’t mean your everyday chicken, as they don’t even include it in the meat category here, I mean beef. Brazilian and Argentinian beef is known worldwide for its quality which it owes to the way the cows are bred. First of all, milking cows and beef-giving cows are treated as two different species, unlike in some European countries, and the ones used for meet are raised free-range. I’m not sure if they are happy cows, but since they graze on the country’s flat pastures, they do not develop strong muscles they would otherwise if they grazed on the hills. This was the explanation I got for the meat’s delicate texture and special flavour. They should send the English cattle breeders here to teach them a lesson. And let the Poles copy.

Anyway, one of the traditional beef dishes served in restaurants is milanesa (bife à milanesa), which is basically meat fried in breadcrumbs, accompanied by (also fried) bacon, pineapple, banana, some green veggies (in the version below it’s broccoli), as well as chips and rice. Looks heavy, but it’s absolutely delicious.

Now just so that you don’t get the wrong impression – this was a serving for two...

The meal - courtesy of my boyfriend ;) @ Sujinho, Rua Consolação, São Paulo.

In the spotlight

Do you want to participate in a TV programme? I was asked one day. As an audience member, of course. Sure, why not, it might be an interesting experience, I thought. When I learned it’s a Jerry-Springer-type show, I winced, but curiosity won. After all, I had never visited a TV station before nor had taken part in any programme. This one was going to be recorded and I silently hoped they would make me sit somewhere where I would be invisible. Not that anyone would recognise me on this hemisphere, but just as a precaution. My boyfriend went with me (it was his idea!), but since the show’s host prefers female audiences, he was sent to the very corner of the bench and told not to stand up. I was granted no such privilege. Just the opposite. I don’t watch TV much and somehow I didn’t realise that the audience in the studio is expected to express loud joy/disapproval at crucial moments. Two production ladies made sure you knew when that was and encouraged you to give  your best. That meant having to clap (ok, I can do that much), wave your arms in the air (erm...),  stand up, sit down, stand up again, cheer when you, or the producers, liked what the guests said and boo when you/they didn’t. Pretty tiring, especially when you have a massive studio light shining right on your head, making you painfully aware of the power of television. Literally. The other females around me (the males were really well hidden) didn’t mind and, judging by the fancy dresses and heavy make-up, most of them seemed to think they were the stars of the night. In my jeans and Garfield top I stood out like a sore thumb.

By now you must be dying to hear what happened in the show. Nothing much. A well-endowed lady in her mid-twenties, and a very short evening dress, was accusing her ex-boyfriend/husband (sorry, I evidently wasn’t paying attention) of having betrayed her with two men at the same time and not paying child support, while he claimed not to be the father of her child. There was some pushing and shoving, with four bodyguards making sure it didn’t get out of hand, as well your regular, I suppose, cursing and blame-shifting. No tears, surprisingly, but instead, wait for it, wait for it! – some singing (the man), booty-shaking  to the rhythms of Brazilian funk (the woman) , shirt-ripping and chest-bearing (the man again)! If it’s your only chance to appear on television, you might as well make the most of it, right?

Spoiler alert. The production had had a DNA test made whose result was revealed towards the end. The man, having fiercely denied betrayal, was proved to be the father, to which the woman reacted: “Now you’re f***.” Steam rose from above the audience. I wanted to hide.

The photo was taken after the show was over.

In case you want to form your own opinion about the show, it's Programa do Ratinho @ SBT. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Fala japonês?*

There is a significant Japanese diaspora in São Paulo, and in the rest of Brazil, I imagine. And thanks to this fact, a myriad Japanese bars line the streets, especially in the centre. Some of the dishes, however, have been conveniently “brazilianised”; you can get, for example, maki covered in breadcrumbs and fried (!) or supersized temakisushi (well, a few times bigger than in London anyway) with salmon and mayonnaise. Delicious. Both of these.

Now, the vocabulary for the various dishes and utensils has, interestingly enough, been kept original. And while it’s understandable with maki, nigiri and sashimi, names already well familiar in most of Europe, there are a few surprises. So, for one, you don’t go asking for soy sauce, oh no. It’s shōyu you want. And I had my moment of embarrassment, and started to question my ability to speak supposedly fluent Portuguese, when I got asked by a waitress if I wanted to use hashi with my guioza (Japanese gyōza). And no, I did not think she said hashish. She simply meant chopsticks, which took me a moment, and a friendly whisper, to realise. It looks like I’m going to have to brush up on my Japanese...

Luckily, there are also bars/restaurants where you don’t have to use any of these words, you just pick and choose whatever you feel like eating. It’s self-service we’re talking about. And it gets even better as you don’t have to decide between Japanese or Brazilian food. You can have both! As a sworn foodie, I couldn’t believe my eyes the first time, and the only one so far, my friends took me to a bar like that. I was thinking about having a light lunch, so I passed by the steaming feijoada, meats and sauces with little interest (I had these for the first three days after my arrival) and headed straight for the sushi section. Oh meu deus! My hands were almost shaking with the anticipation of the delight I would experience with the fresh slices of sashimi, maki rolls and nigiri. Sizzling king prawns caught my eye, so I had a few of them, and I couldn’t resist the very Brazilian fried chicken hearts. Some mushrooms, a few green salad leaves and we’re done. Who’s going to waste time with boring (and heavy) things like rice. You pay per kilo so you want to make sure you get the best stuff. Miso soup on the side and watermelon as dessert are included in the price. So is the little cup of caipirinha, next to the lemon juice with ginger. I’m in Brazil after all.

*Portuguese for - do you speak Japanese?

Intro

The hardest thing is to start. It’s taken me over two weeks! But here I am, in Brazil, as if you hadn’t already guessed, making my dream come true. This is not the first time I’ve come here. Earlier this year I landed in Rio de Janeiro, thrilled by the perspective of experiencing all the samba, the sun and the beaches I had longed for. It was my first month in Brazil and I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Thanks to a very fortunate twist in my life, on November 22^nd I set foot here again and this time for a lot longer; nearly four months! You may wonder how I managed to do it. Well, I quit my job, ditched my flat (and my lovely flatmate), packed my bags and took the plane. Simple. I’ve got some savings and plan to play the rest by ear. Sounds crazy? Nice to meet you. My name is Syl (a big hello to those who know me). And in this blog I will be describing the most interesting aspects of my trip.

I’m going to spend most of my time in São Paulo. It may not be the most beautiful place in Brazil, with an infinity of tall, mostly ugly buildings, separated by a web of roads and strings of cars, but let’s not judge the book by its cover. São Paulo is famous for its cultural life – museums, clubs, samba nights, as well as gastronomy, supposedly better than in the most cosmopolitan city I know – London.  So, due to my personal inclinations, expect a lot of observations about music and... food. Ready?