Life: with rice and beans

Quail eggs!

2009-04-24T09:03:00.009-07:00

Ok, so I know quail eggs are found all over the world and not just in Brazil, but here they are very popular. "Ovos de cordorna," like all eggs that come from the small bird who comes from the pheasant family, they are like miniature, brown-camouflage versions of chicken ones, with an inner shell that is a slightly lighter robin-egg, light blue color.

The taste is equatable to that of a hen's egg, but I think is richer in flavor. P.S., throughout most of Latin America one does not find eggs in the refrigerated section of the grocery store. Instead, they are located on a shelf, at room temperature, and in my opinion, allows for a more consistant, farm-fresh taste. I have never heard of people getting sick from eggs kept this way, as long as they are consumed by the validation date.

I find them easiest to eat soft or hard boiled simply because it is less shell-removing work than say trying to make a scramble. Esthetically, you also cannot help but prefer a tiny hard-boiled, Easter egg-coloring-gone-marbled egg, to the boring white kind, right? I also think a quail's feathers and headress are quite chique. A nice, natural closure to the poor-quality chocolate/marshmallow/hyper-color dyed/ubber-sugary style egg holiday that just passed! Happy post-Easter!

To the juice bar...home again, home again, giggidy, gig

2009-04-23T05:37:00.026-07:00

A mini-holiday in Rio de Janeiro allows for me to elaborate on the somewhat limited selections that I have in my charming, yet out-in-the-country, town of Paraty. For dinner one night we went to a lanchonete (lahn-shoh-neh-chee) which is a juice bar/sandwich/sometimes hot food shop. This particularly yummy one named "NaturalPolis" (a take on Brazilian cities with suffixes reminiscent of European languages that once were spoken here in the southeast of the country like Petropólis and Florianópolis) in the fashionable Leblon neighborhood. As you can see by the list on the left of fresh fruits available to blend into juice, there is no shortage of choices here! Some of my best-loved are "melancia" (watermelon), "caqui" (persimmon), "graviola" (a squishy, white-fleshed fruit encased in a soft, green, notched skin and called guanábana in Spanish, guyabano in the Philippines, and soursop in English, though I had never heard of or seen this fruit before living in the tropics...and one of my all-time favorites-first photo below, left), "fruta do conde" (also called "pinha" in Brazil or sugar-apple in English and grows in tropical regions with a flavor similar to graviola, only in a smaller version-second photo below), and "cacau" (the slimy/sweet insides of the cocoa pod that cradles the seeds that chocolate is made from-second row, left). Other popular selections are "acerola" (red cherry look-alike, and one of the most concentrated sources of vitamin C from Mother Nature-next to cacau), "pitanga" (a kind of peppery, tart, fluted-looking berry-third row, left photo), "cajú" (the fruit of the cashew tree that has the nut attached to the top of the fruit and must be roasted before consumed to clear it of toxicity-next photo) and "cupuaçu" (super-healthy pod from the Amazon that is related to cacau-last photo).

You can have your liquid health mixed with water or milk (occationally soy milk), sweetened or sugar-free, and with optional add-ins like oats, other powered grains or milk, and chocolate vitamin powder (think Nesquick).

On this night I selected, for me, one of the greatest discoveries in the world of fruit-jaca (zha-ka)! Known also as jackfruit, is the largest tree-borne fruit on earth and can reach a weight of up to 80 pounds! The outside armor is a bit intimidating, with its gree spines and sour smell, but just crack it open and see a beauty come out of the beast. The edible parts, which resemble little bouquets, taste like perfumed flowers mixed with pears...or something like that! The first time I sampled jaca was when I was traveling through the north of Brazil and stayed at a little bed & breakfast in the state of Bahia. We were served this with our coffee and our tapioca "bread" and I immediately fell in love! I had never seen jaca as a juice before and was eager to give it a whirl. Delicious!!

Lanchonetes also serve an assortment of food, though usually of the pocket sandwich (called salgados, pre-made and kept warm in glass cases for the customer to see...good if fresh, food poisoning territory if old) or bread-and-cold meat varieties. Sometimes made-to-order, hot foods are also an option. Most contain grilled or breaded beef or chicken, ham, eggs, or cheese, rice, beans (I prefer black), French fries, and salad (almost unanimously consisting of lettuce and sliced tomatoes, sometimes onions and carrots, and palm hearts if you are really lucky). Hamburgers are also a Brazilian staple, though few here know that they were not a Brazilian invention. Sadly, you will never find pickles on the side!
I got a chicken-salad sandwich on warm, salty-buttered bread with shredded carrots and corn (and I think fresh parsley) mixed in...can it get much better than that!

Easter week begins...let's see how much sugar we can eat!

2009-04-11T07:02:00.013-07:00

Throughout Brazil, large, window-box like carts filled to the brim with homemade desserts are parked on street corners, ready to satisfy every kind of sweet tooth. The one I like to frequent is run by a gorgeous, young man with a cheek-to-cheek smile named Ueslei (ooh-es-lee), which is the Brazilian spelling of Wesley. He sets up shop every evening (weather permitting) in our colonial town's historical center and sells each sweet for $2.50 reais (less than $1.25 US dollars). Once a customer selects the goodie they want, he cuts it from its original baking pan, scoops it out with a metal spatula (easier said than done with some, like the toasted coconut-turned solid block one with a toffee-consistency), places it on a paper napkin, and if desired, drenches it in condensed milk (a favorite icing throughout Latin America). Let's take a look at what he has to offer!

Starting with the first photo on the left, the little chocolate balls at the bottom are called "Brigadeiro" (bree-ga-dair-oh). According to Wikipedia, the candy was created in the 1940's after "Eduardo Gomes, a Brazilian Air Force brigadier who first gained notoriety for playing a part in quashing a communist coup attempt in Rio de Janeiro. Later he ran unsuccessfully for the presidency in 1946 and 1950. This was a time of shortage of traditional imports such as nuts and fruits because of the war. But, at the same time, Nestlé was introducing its chocolate powder and condensed milk (known popularly as Leite Moça) in the country." Add a lot of butter and coat in some chocolate sprinkles and you have a truffle-like winner.

Next is an orange-shaded maracujá (passion fruit) tart, complete with the fruit's black seeds on top as decoration. In the next photo is a lime version of the tart. It is amazing how light and fluffy this one is despite being primarily made of heavy cream!

On to a local favorite, pé-de-moleque (pay-dgee-mo-lekee) or "street-boy's foot". Again from Wikipedia, here is the origin of the name. "Certain streets in Brazil were made by laying down various odd rocks in a loose layer of sand/dirt, and having street-boys stomp on them to flatten the surface. Streets made by this method came to be called 'pé-de-moleque.' The appearance of the peanuts stuck together by molasses was found to be similar to that of these types of streets, and so, the sweet took the same name." Here in Paraty, our streets are famous for their imported Portuguese stones that make up the quaint, better-keep-your-eyes-on-the-ground-or-you'll-trip-and-fall-on-your-face cobblestones of the streets in the old part of town. Apparently this same dessert is found in parts of India by the name "chikki." Ok, so that is a great name too, but not as funny as the Brazilian one!

Then we see pudim de aipim e coco, or yucca/cassava and coconut pudding. This hearty, moist, baked dessert combines two favorites of mine: the South American (though it is found throughout tropical cultures) root vegetable and coconut!

Above left, are two more sugary coconut dishes. First is cuzcuz (pronounced like the northern African grain, couscous, and possibly takes its name from the influence of immigrants in Brazil from that region). Though normally found sweet, cuzcuz is made from manioc root and can be made into savory recipes with chicken and vegetables also. This one here is gummy and spongy and not as loaded with sugar, so is a popular candidate for condensed milk as a topping. Next to the cuzcuz is what is named "quebra-queixo", or "jawbreaker!" This is the one that I described earlier that is impossible to cut. I understand the name since trying to bite and chew through the toasted, shredded coconut glued together with caramelized sugar, definitely takes dedication, and good teeth!

The second photo is another type of pudding baked in the oven called "Italian cassarole," made from cheese and coconut...are you kidding...delicious!

My choice on this day is tapioca pudding covered with a caramel sauce. Tapioca in Brazil is not like the spoonable kind in a bowl found in the US. In fact, in the northeast of the country tapioca is common as a both a meal, and a dessert. There the manioc flour from which it comes is formed into a batter that is pan-fried like a crepe, and filled with ingredients ranging from shrimp or beef with cheese, to chocolate, coconut, guava paste and/or banana blanketed with, you guessed it, cheese! Here in the Southeast, tapioca is usually found in a thicker, square form like you see below. Check out the bite mark in the right-hand photo. That is how dense it is, despite still being able to soak-up all that caramel "broth" as it is described in Portuguese. It also retains the texture of "spider eggs" as we used to call them as kids.

Ok, I am officially worn out after my sugar rush and need a nap! I'll be back later with more sweet treats, only this time with more chocolate, Brazilian Easter egg-style! Tchau! (tch-ow) (Ciao) (Bye)

Autumn in Brazil...time to eat pine trees!

2009-04-09T17:45:00.004-07:00

Ok, so I'm not talking about eating the tree itself; just the kernel. The nuts of the pine tree are eaten around the world and the varieties that grown here in southeastern Brazil are no exception. Most people think of Brazil and imagine palm trees, not pine trees. The species that grow here are only up in the mountains where the elevation allows for cooler, drier temperatures. Some cultures say pine nuts bring fertility, prosperity, and have aphrodisiac powers. Who knows. What I do know is that they are tasty!
The kind here, called a pinhão (peeng-yow) or pinhões when there is more than one, are larger than say the ones made famous in Italy and essential for basil pesto. They are usually about 1 1/2 - 3 inches long, encased in a hard, coffee-brown shell and edible only after a good amount of cooking. Most locals stick them in a pressure cooker, but as I am not confident with the unpredictability of a pot on the stove containing the equivalent of a steam-powered engine under its lid, so I prefer the old-fashioned boil-till-it's-done method. The ones in the above photo are already cooked. They were kept in lightly salted, boiling water for about an hour on the stove and eaten warm as it is easier to peel open the layers that way. Most people here use their teeth to crack the casing and squeeze out the innards, but I think my dentist would advise against that. The smell was fantastic too and I did a make-sift, vapor facial afterwards with the scented water. Getting at the fruit of the tree requires as much dedication as eating an artichoke does, but worth the effort to get at the good stuff inside. I though was the kind of kid that would spend hours in front the fireplace hand cracking walnuts and pecans, using a pick to get out every last soft morsel.
So what do they taste like? It is kind of like a cross between a sugarless date and a slightly sweet potato, with an undercurrent of Christmas tree thrown in for good measure. It has a firm, kind of grainy texture but not with the oily residue of other nuts. I made my own version of pesto with these pinhões and it came out great! Tis' the season!

Brazilian-style ice cream Part II

2009-03-14T12:20:00.005-07:00

Sorry about the long delay in new posts here at lifewithriceandbeans, but as life would have it I have been much occupied with a full-time work and school schedule. Now that I have given a good excuse I will make a sad attempt to compensate for my absence by writing this short, pseudo-blog to tide you over till I have time to write a proper one. Here goes...

Is that CORN in the picture above? Yep, a corn and cream popsicle has now been added to my top 5 list of fabulously-strange-yet-tasty frozen treats! This local company makes other, more traditionally tropical flavors like pineapple, papaya, guava, toasted coconut, and mango, as well as watermelon, açaí with guaraná, maracujá (mah-dah-koo-zhah) or Brazilian passion fruit and in the photo below, an Amazon fruit known for its health properties called cupuaço (koo-poo-ah-soo), and some cream/chocolate combo named "mini-skirt!"
It's the end of Summer here so a cool ice cream hits the spot on steamy days. But you are stuck in the depths of Winter in the Northern Hemisphere, you are thinking. Now is not the time for cold food! Come on-do you not have central heating? Trick your hibernating brain into thinking it is time to come out of the cave and whip together some canned corn, heavy cream, sugar, maybe a little cinnamon, and freeze the mixure in ice trays with sticks. YUM!!!!!

Ice cream makes firemen happy!

2009-02-04T17:40:00.012-08:00

Ten seconds before I shot this photo, these professional life savers were all smiles but with ice cream in their mouths. I was refused pictures incriminating them in indulging in their treat while on-the-clock, but they were willing to pose in front of the fire department vehicle instead. I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream…so goes the song, almost nursery rhyme that every child in the USA grew up singing. I have to confess; I love the stuff but have a lactose intolerance if I eat too much, so I rarely do. On a hot day like today though, I can be convinced to deal with the stomach cramps and bloating that will inevitably follow my treat.

In Brasil ice cream “self-service” is very popular. It is kind of like a buffet but with a scale at the end of the line. You pay for how much it weighs. (There also is a regular food version of this that I will cover at a later date). The front of the line starts with scoopers, cups, bowls and/or waffle cones, and ends with unlimited sticky, unhealthy toppings (M&Ms, chopped nuts, regular AND sweet & sour gummy worms, and marshmallow cream) to smother your frozen dessert with. The best aspect of this is that you can combine and make science experiment-looking creations that would make any five year-old proud.

The flavors range from basic flavors like vanilla and chocolate that Gringos are used to, to regional specialties made from vegetables like “chu chu” (shoo-shoo), which is a green, teardrop-shaped plant that grows on vines in tropical areas, and “abóbara com coco” (a-bow-bah-dah), or squash with coconut. Other selections of interest include “maracujá” (mah-dah-koo-zhah), or passion fruit; “goiaba” ( goy-ah-bah), or guava; “jabuticaba,” a dark berry; condensed milk; whipped cream with cashew nuts or “castanha de cajú”; Ferrero Rocher, after the famous hazelnut and chocolate candy from Italy; and a white concoction with a flavor I cannot place named “Beijinho” (which means “little kiss”).

This particular “sorvetaria” (soh-veh-tah-ree-a) is a bit over-lit and sterile, but they advertise lack of hydrogenated vegetable oil (because I prefer cream and sugar over air-poofed fat), and the exterior art murals were painted by a friend of ours. You can see a little of it behind my husband as he digs into his ice cream. The owner is also super nice and curious to ask me if the reason so many Americans are epidemically overweight because they eat bacon and eggs for breakfast. Though that is a loaded question with complex answers, I agree with him and add the statistical fact that large numbers of people there also eat nothing but processed and fast food. I also want to add that it is also because ice cream is so popular in the US, but I hold my tongue.

I kept my choices monochromatic and had pistachio and chu chu. The flavors were smooth and just like you would expect from a place that puts a little love into what they serve. Chu chu is simple and maybe a little bland, but clean and like ice cream you’ve had before. The pistachio was great since it was packed with nut pieces! Maico had vanilla with chocolate flakes and mango, topped with chocolate sauce. Can you go wrong with fruit and chocolate...delicious!

Ok...here's the last Obama endorsement...for now

2009-02-03T11:34:00.007-08:00

You have to see this yummy write-up on Good magazine’s blog: http://www.good.is/?p=14505

Tomorrow we will tie this together with Brasil’s version of ice cream- sorvete (soh-veh-chee, or like we say here in Paraty, soh-veh-tch). Enjoy!

Obama Day 8: tough first days on the job call for extra potent drinks after work

2009-01-28T14:15:00.024-08:00

So it is about a week after the US Inauguration and spirits are high here in Brasil as people put trust in the new US president to follow through on his ambitious promises to change the world image of the

United States

from World Bully, to World Progressor. So far he has done pretty well. If you want to monitor his Executive Branch activities check out The St. Petersburg Times' sharp "Obameter" that monitors the guy's campaign commitments at: http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/promises/ . I thought we should therefore raise a glass and continue with all the hullabaloo and hope for a renewed USA and keep the libations flowing. In Brasil folks clink shot glasses filled with a sugar cane liquor called “cachaça” (kah-shah-sah) while gleefully shouting (and eventually slurring), “cheers” in Portuguese: “saúde” (sa-oo-jee)!

What better way to make a little party than to mix up the most well-know Brasilian cocktail: the caipirinha (kah-ee-pee-deen-yah). Here is how it is done:

Get yourself some limes, wash them, cut them in half (through the middle not from stem top to bottom), and score them by making 2-4 cuts into the rind (like pictured) without cutting all the way through...though if you are lazy you can just cut the lime up into how ever many small sections you want.

Put some well-refined sugar (as much or little as you like) in a glass, tumbler, mug, whatever as long as it has a wide mouth opening. If you use a less-refined sugar it will take longer for it to dissolve and therefore more wait-time before you can drink. Put the cut lime flesh-side down on top of the sugar.

Take a wooden or plastic muddler, spoon, potato masher, or something to squash the lime into the sugar until you have lots a sugared lime juice in your glass. Add as many limes as you like.

Put ice in the glass (chopped is best), followed by a generous shot of cachaça. Pour the whole mixture in a martini shaker or just put your hand securely over the glass, and shake! Add optional straw and drink till your heart's content.

When I was eleven years-old, my grandfather handed me a tiny, glass medicine bottle and told me (with a devilish grin) to take a sip of the mysterious, clear liquid that was in it. As I knocked-back a healthy dose, all I remember was what felt like a mixture of rubbing alcohol and liquid fire burning a corrosive path from the tip of my tongue to back of my throat and down my esophagus. Coughing and spitting and crying from the confusion of being poisoned by my own flesh and blood, I wiped my eyes of their tears to see my grandfather laughing at my near-death experience. Now, you may think that I had been subjected to some kind of torturous hazing ritual by the patron of my own family, and maybe I kind of was, but I sure never made an attempt to sample from grandpa’s liquor stash, unless he was present. And if any of us grandkids were curious about smoking, he did the same live-and-learn example with cigarettes and cigars as a way to scare us away from experimenting with those kinds of vices until we were at least a little older. Did it work? Sorta. If nothing else it taught all of us to respect and maybe fear our no-nonsense, Southern, mountain-man grandpa. Maybe it was also all those Christmases when he dressed up like Santa (he looked just like him), made every one of us give him a kiss and let the babies pull on his snowy beard.

The probably 190-proof (95% pure) alcohol that my grandfather gave me was colloquially called “white lightening” or “moonshine” by the backwoods distillers and patrons of the South in the earlier part of the 20th Century. Though moonshine can still be found in personal liquor cabinets and hidden in the back of divey bars, modern regulations have re-packaged it, given it the name “Everclear,” and regulated its strength as either 151 or 190-proof (though the stronger one is illegal to sell in fifteen US states).

Ok, so what does all this have to do with Brasil and cachaça? Well, first off, another name for cachaça is "Aguardente" which translates to "burning (or flaming) water," so in other words; it is just like what Grandpa had stored in the basement. This Brasilian version though is generally lower in alcohol content (between 38%-48%), if it is produced commercially. Though many of the small-scale, artisan and better-tasting pingas produced in my corner of the world might have labels displaying how strong they are, just as many do not and a test of their strength is gaged only by how quickly you forget how to walk a straight line while you are drinking them. Maybe that is why another fitting name for cachaça is "Aquela-que-matou-o-guarda," or "the one that killed the cop!"

Here in Paraty, we are famous for our cachaça or "pinga" (peen-ga) from the verb "pingar" which means "to drop." This are became known as a pinga producer beginning in the 1800s after farmers attempting to get rich off of refined sugar realized that there was too much rain here for large-scale sugar cane cultivation. Instead, by utilizing the countless rivers and streams swimming through the forests and mountains here, a big wheel could be fitted to churn hydro-electricity that could power a mill and thereby make a lot of product that required a lot less sugar cane. An industry was born and for many years the word "Paraty" or "Parati" (the other way to spell the name) became synonomous with the word "cachaça." Even Brasil's king Dom Pedro II (born 1825-1891) reportedly placed special orders for the highest quality "Parati."

You see, to say you are going to buy a bottle of cachaça is like saying you are going to buy a bottle of vodka or whiskey; they are types of distilled alcohol. Here I will quote directly from Wikipedia:

Cachaça, like rum, has two varieties: un-aged (white) and aged (gold). White cachaça is usually bottled immediately after distillation and tends to be cheaper…Dark cachaça, usually seen as the "premium" variety, is aged in wood barrels and is meant to be drunk pure. Its flavor is influenced by the type of wood the barrel is made of...I however feel that if I want my cachaça to have a charred wood overtone, I would just drink scotch.

There are also other grades of cachaça that are hard to find outside of Brasil. "Azulada" (a-zoo-la-dah), in which tangerine leaves are added and results in a very high-quality mix that has a slight blue cast to it (see photo below). "Gabriela" is a local concoction that infuses cinnamon, clove and sugar together to get something truly magical and lovingly reminiscent of something that would be found in a large pot on the stove at a family Christmas gathering (though I prefer Gabriela with an ice cube). Pinga blended with pumpkin, banana, passion fruit, chocolate, etc. are among the many ways producers find ways of tantalizing consumers. Another popular way to drink pinga here is to put a healthy dose of honey in a cup then pour a dangerously large amount of the alcohol on top and mix until the honey becomes one with the pinga. Delicious! Below is a photo from a shop that sells, floor to ceiling, every variety of cachaça under the sun along with jarred, sweet compotes and preserves and locally made hot sauces.

Every civilization that has had access to either some sort of starch or fruit, has discovered through either a happy accident or painstaking chemistry experiments, that a little time and a thing called fermentation will turn a potato or a grape into a glass of Good Times. Alcohol has been used to commemorate both sadness and celebration the world over, and though there are those folks out there who think the stuff is the work of the Devil (and maybe they are right), it also is a liquid marker of a culture's culinary ambitions. A good, stiff drink so often compliments the flavors and scents of a meal since the dirt used to grow the vegetables and feed the animals that will be made into food also adds the same nutrients and complexity to what can also be turned into an alcoholic beverage, so everything logically synchronizes and harmonizes once put together. Though good food can stand on its own, a drink before, during, and/or after makes it an experience!

***Update***
After this was posted, I was corrected by several Brasilian bartenders on what I thought was an authentic caipirinha recipe. To avoid an unwanted sour taste on the tongue, cut out and discard the middle, white, core parts of the lime before muddling with the sugar. Thanks!

Obama Day 0: time for a party!

2009-01-19T20:24:00.027-08:00

Today is Inauguration Day in the United States, and apparently record numbers of people will be showing up in Washington D.C. to get a glimpse of the first person of any color other than "cracker", to be elected to the highest political office of the land. Everyone is being warned that the temperatures will be cold enough to turn a red-state Republican blue so therefore, it is best to come naked in support of the Democratic Party. A fluffy scarf, earmuffs, and two pairs of socks are encouraged though.

Down here in the Southern Hemisphere, we have different environmental conditions at this time of year. January equals heat and humidity, so we are more preoccupied with how to soak-up the sweat and keep from passing out from too much sun than with hypothermia. So to celebrate summer, and to honor Mr. Baraka Obama’s entrance into the White House (and the cleaning-out of all the dust mites that have lived there for the past 8 years), I thought a BBQ was in order. I also want to celebrate public water finally returning here to Paraty after 9 days of dry wells and the use of lots of extra deodorant.

In Brasil, a BBQ is called a "churrasco" (shoo-hah-skoh) and like its US equivalent, it involves a lot of grilled meat (steak, chicken wings and fatty sausage called “calabresa”), mayonnaise dishes, side vegetables and beer, though rice is the main starch, not potato chips. BBQ sauce and other spices that cover up the natural flavor of the meat are also not welcome here. Only coarse salt is used to season so that when you bite into a chicken wing you taste chicken, not Emeril’s Kicked Up BAM! B-Q sauce. There is also a curious dry condiment called “farofa” (fah-roh-fah) that is usually spooned on top of everything. It is made by refining the tropical root vegetable mandioca (man-jee-oh-ka), also known as manioc or cassava, into a flour, then pan-frying it with butter or oil, cubes of meat (usually bacon or sausage), spices and salt. It can also be purchased pre-packaged and has the consistency of finely-ground bread crumbs. I personally do not like farofa because although the flavor is reminiscent of kind of Thanksgiving stuffing, the flour absorbs liquid like pre-cooked couscous and makes everything it is added to dryer. I always prefer my food on the juicier side, especially at a BBQ.

Churrascos are typically a Sunday event and a way to get everyone you know together to relax, gossip and gorge. Since my husband works in tourism, Sunday is never a day of rest, so we made an extended lunch out of it at his work instead. There are different types of churrasqueiras (shoo-hah-skair-as), or grilling apparatuses, in which to put a fire, though the one we used was made of clay. Others range from humble metal boxes with legs, to elaborate wall built-ins with chimneys. Charcoal is a very different species of coal here. It is a lump charcoal which means that it still resembles pieces of actual wood instead of being mixed with other by-products and chemicals before being pressed into the perfect little squares called briquettes that are used in the US. In place of highly-toxic lighter fluid, Brasilians use common isopropyl rubbing alcohol to help ignite the fire.

Once the fire gets going, it is just like any BBQ on the Fourth of July; the person in charge of the grill has their own personalized and highly specific methods of grilling yet, everyone else also has an opinion on how the food should be cooked and they are not afraid to express it to the cook. These people also usually tend to be of the male gender. It is as if once the smell of burning wood and meat in an outdoor setting reaches their nostrils, some intrinsic, caveman response kicks in and they suddenly become an authority on cooking, though in their own home they avoid cooking at the stove at all costs and feign ignorance of all things culinary.

NPR published what Mr. President has on his iPod and I thought his Fugees and Nina Simone selections were telling, though my favorite song by Ms. Simone is " My Baby Just Cares for me,” though I think “Do I Move You” is the most appropriate choice for the election of the 44^th President of the United States who just happens to be the interracial child of a black African man and a white woman from Kansas. Some miracles DO come to pass!
1. 'Ready or Not' Fugees
2. 'What's Going On' Marvin Gaye
3. 'I'm On Fire' Bruce Springsteen
4. 'Gimme Shelter' Rolling Stones
5. 'Sinnerman' Nina Simone
6. 'Touch the Sky' Kanye West
7. 'You'd Be So Easy to Love' Frank Sinatra
8. 'Think' Aretha Franklin
9. 'City of Blinding Lights' U2
10. 'Yes We Can' Will.i.am

For the first time since I left the United States to travel and see first-hand all that I knew was censored from me in the Land of the Free, Home of the Brave, I am not embarrassed to be from the USA. Where before I was routinely interrogated on how my country can leave such a stain on the people and places it has dealings with (directly or indirectly) and how Bush was able to be elected TWICE, I now talk to people who are excited to discuss the positive prospects for the US’s future. In Rio de Janeiro, Obama’s face has even become a popular theme for Carnaval (kah-nah-vah–ooh) masks that will be paraded in front of millions of viewers at the February festivities. Read the story here:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090116/ap_on_re_la_am_ca/lt_brazil_obama_s_carnival_1

Nothing and no one is perfect, but today steps were taken that will hopefully give the world reason to believe in democracy and justice again. A slogan heard along the campaign trail was, "Rosa sat so Martin could walk; Martin walked so Obama could run; Obama is running so our children can fly." Best of luck Barack Hussein Obama II and happy grilling!

So what can I cook for lunch if I don't have water?

2009-01-18T10:56:00.026-08:00

How about not cooking at all? I normally find food preparation meditative and a time for me to creatively play, so chopping meat and vegetables and standing over a hot stove is not a chore, but rather a good time. I also am poor at the moment and cooking at home is significantly cheaper than eating out. That being said, I also am living in a place that has a water shortage and I want to conserve what limited supply we have in bottles here at home. It also is super, duper hot and humid (sorry, snow-bound Northeastern US) and I long for something filling yet light. Enter one of Brasil’s most famous natural commodities and, more recently, exports: açaí (a-sah-ee).

This amazingly healthy, little red-purple berry not only could sustain you were you stranded on some desert island (or re-nourish you were you recovering from a bad hangover), but it’s darn tasty too! The colorfully-painted, mostly-naked hunter-gathers of the Amazon region have been consuming açaí far longer than the health-conscious in first world countries have been looking for a way to counteract their polluted, overweight, civilized lifestyles.

Here in Brasil, açaí became all the rage among surfers who wanted to keep up their energy while eating light so as not to sink below the waves. Açaí is so packed with nutrients that they could eat it, surf all day and not lose those irresistible washboard stomachs.

So why is açaí a good choice for me to eat when what little public water we have is tainted and undrinkable without chlorine drops added first? Many açaí shops buy the pulp of the fruit in frozen blocks and then blend them with a little ice and either honey or sweetened with guaraná (gwah-dah-nah) syrup (another Brasilian berry-like fruit that I will get into detail about in a future blog) to get a product with an ice cream-consistency. My favorite açaí shop on the other hand, imports it ready-to-go and therefore mixed with water that does not come from our dirty, yet recuperating, river. And after all, the word açaí itself comes from the Brasilian indigenous Tupian word meaning “fruit that cries or expels water” (thanks Wikipedia), so it is only fitting.

My husband and I sit down at the ever-busy açaí shop and wait for our bowls of yumminess to arrive. We ordered the most popular version which comes drizzled with honey, sliced bananas and granola stacked on top (see photo above, top). There are many other ways to top açaí though, and how one likes their açaí can rival how one prefers their ice cream. Other goodies include sweetened, condensed milk (which Brasilians will put on anything already too sweet); a powdered milk called “Ninho” (that translates as “nest” but really is just a brand name); or ice cream. Açaí is also drunk as just a juice or blended with other fruit like strawberries or oranges. Some northern Brasilian states like their açaí room temperature or even salty. Normally these shops also sell other kinds of fresh-squeezed juices mixed with water (“suco”) or with milk (“vitamina”).

The açaí arrives. It has a slightly gritty consistency that many people find distracting and therefore opt for the more liquefied variety. I however, appreciate a bit of grit because without it, the fiber couldn’t stick as well to the spaces between my teeth and stain them that wine-colored purple. The flavor is pretty unique. It is kind of like a fusion of every dark berry you’ve ever tried, mixed with sugar, and put through an ice cream maker. That is probably why in North America and Europe açaí has become a much-touted health food/weight loss aid and embraced as an alternative type of juice and pressed into tablets to be swallowed with breakfast. Good-for-you ice cream: who can say no to that?

In Brasil, açaí is also more than just a refreshing desert/meal. Ironically, most Brasilians do not consider it necessarily a “health” food as much as a hot weather food. In fact, despite açaí’s healthy nutrient content, it also has a high concentration of good fat, and Brasilians will warn you that too much will make you lumpy around the middle. (I guess those surfers burned off all the excess calories with all that paddling). It is also commonly found as a flavoring in gum, Halls throat drops (does anyone actually eat them as anything other than candy?), toothpaste, in powered form, ready-made juice concentrate and even a scent for shampoo and conditioner (though açaí doesn’t have a strong smell).

Okay, well, since the açaí that I am eating is cold, it is also melting and needs my undivided attention. Até mais! (Until later!)

Welcome to 2009 and all the destruction that it brings!

2009-01-17T11:32:00.027-08:00

**My intention with this blog is to give visual/written blurps of my saunters, gallops and sometimes belly-flops as I venture through a life as a North American woman living in a lovely colonial, tropical, in-the-middle-of-Paradise town in Southeastern Brasil (yes, that is how it is spelled in Portuguese) and who is addicted to food, cultures unlike her own, how food plays into those cultures, documentation through words and photography along the way, and run-on sentences and their under-appreciation. Though I had planned to inaugurate this blog with colorful photos of my town Paraty, witty commentary and tantalizing recipes for local foods, other events pushed themselves, literally, to the forefront of my life and where I was to direct my attention. Instead, I will start off by saying that normally this blog will contain more culinary connections to life here, as food is much more than just sustenance to me and I know there are many out there that agree with me. For now, I will dedicate more time tomorrow to the food and today I will give you an introduction to myself and my situation. Bon appetite!**

Normally the first few weeks of the New Year are filled with resolutions and new beginnings and a cleaning out of the old dust that needed to go from the previous year. Well, I guess you can say Mother Nature was impatient with us here and made a move to speed up the process.

A flash flood hit Paraty on Saturday morning around 2am after excessive rain in the mountains above us engorged the river Perequê-Açú that stems from there and runs through the entire area before dumping its almost black, mineral-laden mud into the ocean at the sea entrance to town. By 4:30am, the water had risen 8 meters (26 feet) over its capacity and covered-over the whole area forcing 1000 residents to flee their homes. The equivalent of a year's worth of rain filled the river in one night! The force of the water destroyed a section of highway that goes to the mountains, broke water lines and washed out a reservoir that collects the city's water from waterfalls in the mountains. As of today, one week later after the town was inundated with water, there is ironically still no public water for the 15 thousand residents other than what people have collected in special water barrels that each house/apartment building has for its own use, what they buy bottled or from water companies who export the life source by truck to paying customers. Another 10-15 thousand tourists were not included in that figure, though most have left. It's a bit desperate because in order to clean-up mud, wash clothes, take showers, etc, you need water and that means that people are siphoning river water with buckets and hoses and therefore only recycling the dirty water. No one seems to know when public water will return. My husband Maico and I have been making trips out to waterfalls to take “showers” which sounds like it would be a tropical delight but trying to wash my nether regions with soap in front of others who have the same idea as us makes it a bit tricky and not at all “Blue Lagoon”-like. Well, like my mom said, if we don’t get to bathe as often at least we'll all smell the same! Somehow, that is comforting.

The river is a lifeline here with houses, hotels, boats, etc. lining its banks and draws tourists from all over the world to see the colonial beauty that grew-up around it over the past 400 years. Up until about 15 years ago however, most of the buildings were concentrated near the port which the Portuguese built when gold, liquor and sugar were still being exported from there and pirates were waiting outside of the bay to pick-off the loot on their way out to the open Atlantic. Some very smart, long-term thinking Portuguese engineers built the town slightly under the sea level but on top of stones that angled down and could utilize gravity to wash any high tide water (and street garbage) out to sea. That is why when the flood hit that area was barely touched despite sitting sandwiched between the river and the ocean. Most everyone else felt the effects of living near a river in boroughs that were thrown together out of necessity to house people since the population has more than doubled in those 15 years, and with zero planning for what would happen if the river overflowed. There also has never been public preparedness on what to do during a flood, or after. Welcome to the Brasil, says every Brasilian I talk to!

I woke up that morning to the yelling of my neighbors and looked outside in their parking garage to see that water had half covered their car tires (that's the last photo and the water would eventually cover their car grills). It didn't quite register what was happening though until I looked in our outdoor corridor and saw that it was completely filled. More and more voices could be heard from the street as word reached us that the river had flooded and was taking everything in its path out to the ocean.

Normally in disaster situations I keep my head about me and put my Aries leadership skills in high gear to get through the situation without panicking. Though when I saw water streaming into my kitchen from under the front door with the appearance of Ohio River water (in other words, water from a busted sewage pipe- which it probably was since the sewage drains broke open too), I kind of lost it. I have never literally been shaken from fear that much in my life, though I have never felt that vulnerable to merciless forces before. Unfortunately, I happened to live in the way of a disturbance in the forces of nature and nothing was going to cut me slack just because I didn't want to die just yet.

In order to move into this studio apartment the size of a child-size shoe box, we recently had to buy a bed, standing pantry, wardrobe, etc. and since most apartments here do not come furnished we also had to purchase a fridge and stove. Basically, we're broke for the next few months but I finally had an in-house internet connection with plans of starting this weblog and getting caught-up on a lot of things that I had neglected over the past few months, so I welcomed the lack-of-funds-forced time at home. I had just returned to Brasil 4 months ago after spending 4 and a half months back home in Cincinnati, Ohio and San Francisco, CA to get documents to be able to get married to Maico Almeida dos Santos, the Brasilian I met here in Paraty while traveling through here in December, 2007. We both spent too many hours and even more money getting my paperwork in order and finally made it official on 4 September, 2008 (though it was not that simple and I will elaborate in an upcoming blog). We moved into a new place together just a month ago and had everything in livable order as of a week before the flood hit. Basically, we were starting fresh and with high hopes for the future. That is why when I yanked electrical plugs out of the wall, pulled books off shelves, shoved every important document into a backpack, and put the TV and everything possible as high as possible, all I could think about was that we were going to lose it all.

I thankfully got a hold of a friend who lived in an apartment on a second floor on the other side of the river who kept calling me to say we had to come there immediately because the water was rising higher and soon we couldn't cross through the torrents on the streets and over a pedestrian bridge to her place. Maico and I did as much as we could at home until the water was up past our ankles. We then pushed open the front door (breaking a hinge in the process from the pressure smashing against the door on the other side), put our bags on our heads, and waded through knee deep water outside to get to the street where we sunk into the mud and even more water up to our waists. The river current was in overdrive and almost took me with it as we struggled to make it across a road maybe 25 feet wide, banging our feet and legs against unknown submerged concrete objects along the way. We made it to the bridge and climbed high enough to see trees, other debris and an upside-down speed boat go flying underneath us with the noise of what I always imagined an avalanche would sound like. Five minutes after we safely, though shakily, were secure on the other side and behind the gate of my friend's apartment, it was obvious that we made it with no time to spare. We saw two, 15-person wooden boats snap free from their lines and sail down the river and a horse lose its life to the forces of the water.

So one week later and we're slowly recovering and keeping our spirits up despite the water shortage. We're taking our vitamins and since I’ve cleaned more with bleach and antibacterial detergent in the past week than I have in the past few years, I think we’re keeping the germs at bay. Unfortunately, though most of the mud has been scrapped away, the residue left behind is a brown powdery dust that gives the town a Wild West feel.

Sadly too, we are officially at the height of summer and a busy tourist season. Many people make a major chunk of their yearly income in only 3-4 months so to lose most of our tourists now is quite a blow to the local economy. The streets are skimpy on visitors and the energy is deflated. I don't blame the tourists though because I wouldn't want to go to a waterless, flood-ravaged town on my vacation either.

Nothing is permanent however, and we will rebound and continue to move forward. Maybe today I'll even go down to the new "beach" that has appeared after so much mud collected where the river meets the ocean and get a little sun and relax. After all, I DO live in paradise, right?!

where i've been/lived/want to see

2009-01-07T10:29:00.001-08:00

Get Your Own Map

View Larger Map