On the Road - Salvador - Pt. 2 - The Joy of Abará

As Julie Andrews once warbled, "Let's start at the very beginning, A very good place to start...". So, we're beginning our reportage on our recent visit to Salvador, Bahia with the item that's always first (alphabetically, at least) in any list of traditional Bahian dishes - abará. It's hard to think of anything that might proceed abará in an alphabetical listing of dishes - except aardvark, and they don't eat aardvarks in Bahia.

 Abará  is one of the foods that is most closely associated with the Afro-Brazilian religion of Bahia, Candomblé, and it's also one of the items that can always be found for sale by baianas, the traditionally-dressed black women who sell Bahian food, most notably acarajé, on streets, squares and beachfronts of Salvador.

Iansã

In the rituals of Candomblé, which preserve the religious traditions brought from Africa to Brazil by slaves, abará is a favorite food of the orixá (divinity) Iansã, and offerings of food made to her invariably include abará. Iansã is the orixá of the River Niger in Africa, and of the wind, hurricanes and tempests. She is considered to be one of the most agressive of the female orixás and has dominion over the dead. In the syncretic tradition of linking orixás with saints of the Catholic church, she is identified with Santa Barbara and is worshiped as such in the Catholic churches of Bahia.

 There's nothing complex or complicated about abará - it's not a fancy or delicate food. But it does combine many of the most important ingredients of the Bahian pantry, which was large inherited from Africa. Basically, an abará is a soft batter made from black-eyed pears, flavored with bright orange dendê palm oil and cooked by being steams in a banana-leaf package. Sometimes ground dried shrimps are added to the batter for additional flavoring, but this isn't obligatory. Readers familiar with Mexican tamales will have a very good idea of what an abará is, as the two dishes are very similar. They differ in the mass used to create the dough - ground corn in the case of tamales and ground black-eyed peas in the case of abará. Although tamales are often stuff with a meat or chicken filling, abarás are not and resemble most closely those unstuffed tamales called "blind."

The list of ingredients that go into making abará is almost identical to acarajé. Both are based on the same batter, though in acarajé the batter is deep-fried in dendê whereas abará is steamed rather than fried and a small amount of dendê is stirred into the batter to flavor it. This makes abará slightly more healthy eating than acarajé, though it could never be considered health food.

In Salvador we sampled  abará at the famed Bahian buffet of SENAC, the public-private vocational school that can be found in any city in Brazil. In our next post, we'll look at the 40+ dish SENAC buffet in more detail. It's an edible encyclopedia of Bahian cuisine and an essential part of the Salvador experience.

(Click here for a recipe for abará  from an earlier posting on Flavors of Brazil).

On the Road - Salvador - Pt. 1

Salvador, Bahia

From time to time since beginning this blog in 2009, we've featured series of reports from various cities and regions of Brazil. We call them On the Road, and in the past we've reported on the gastronomic culture and food scene in such places as São Luis, Rio de Janeiro, Jericoacoara and Belém. Every one of these series originated with a trip to the location in question - visiting markets, street-food stalls, restaurants, museums and supermarkets. And in each, we've included restaurant reviews, photos and videos, and recipes.

This weekend we're in Salvador, Bahia, preparing for the next in the series. The state of Bahia, and in particular its capital, Salvador, is home to the most well-known and widely-appreciated of all of Brazil's regional cuisines, referred to in Portuguese as comida baiana and in English as Bahian cuisine.

Brazil's food culture is a complex mixture of influences, but there are three essential referential points - the gastronomy of Europe, particularly of Portugual, the native American gastronomy of the indigenous Amerindian cultures, and the gastronomy of Africa, which was brought to Brazil by captive slaves. Bahia's food culture rests primarily on African roots - the slaves who came to Brazil from Africa beginning in the 16th century carried very little with them in the holds of slave ships. Only their African cultural heritage - food, art, religion, music, rhythms and the like - survived the trip across the South Atlantic from Angola, Benin and Guinea to places like Bahia, Pernambuco and Minas Gerais in Brazil.

Candomblé

The African influences on Bahian culture bubble and stir together in a large open pot - the spicy dishes that Bahia shares with Africa are served in the temples of the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé, and the rhythmic songs and chants of Bahia often sing the praises of local delicacies. It's all connected organically, and the mixture is unique to Bahia.

Starting at the beginning of next week, when we're back from Bahia, check out Flavors of Brazil, On the Road - Salvador. If you know Bahia, it should bring back some great sensory memories. And if you've not been there, it will surely whet your appetite to go.

RECIPE - Coconut Blancmange for Yemanjá (Manjar Branco para Yemanjá)

Yemanjá painted by Carybé

In yesterday's post here on Flavors of Brazil, we promised to post a recipe today for one of the ceremonial dishes associated with the goddess Yemanjá in the Afro-Brazilian religious tradition of Candomblé. Each of the many gods and goddesses of Candomblé has specific foods with which they are associated - foods that they are said to enjoy - and these foods are offered to the deity during Candomblé ceremonies (and subsequently eaten by devotees during the post-ceremonial feast).

Because Yemanjá is the goddess of the sea, the essence of motherhood and protector of children, and because she is identified with the Virgin Mary, her colors are blue and white. The foods that are offered to her are consequently white or light in color.

Manjar branco

This recipe, which comes from a Brazilian webpage called Comida do Orixá Iemanja (Food of the Goddess Yemanjá) is for one of the dishes most commonly associated with Yemanjá. Simple, light, sweet and most importantly, white, the milk pudding known as blancmange in English and manjar branco in Portuguese is perfectly suited to this loving, motherly, beautiful and vain goddess.

It's also perfectly suited to non-ceremonial roles, such as a simple dessert to end a rich meal. It can be topped with almost any fruit compote or coulis if you wish a more complex dish, but when it's served to Yemanjá it's presented in its simplest and purest form.
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RECIPE - Coconut Blancmange for Yemanjá (Manjar Branco para Yemanjá)

4 cups (1 liter) hot whole milk - just at the boiling point
1 cup grated unsweetened coconut
4 Tbsp cornstarch
a small amount cold whole milk
1 cup (250 ml) granulated white sugar
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In a medium saucepan, pour the hot milk over the grated coconut. Let soak for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, dissolve the cornstarch in a small quantity of cold milk. Stir the cornstarch mixture into the liquid in the saucepan, then add the white sugar.


Heat the saucepan over medium-high heat, stirring constantly until the sugar is complete dissolved. Continue to cook, stirring constantly, until the mixture is very hot and has thickened, usually about 3 to 5 minutes. Do not let come to a full boil.


When the mixture has thickened, remove from the heat, pour into a ceramic bowl or a decorative mold and let cool completely. When cool, refrigerate for at least 4 hours before serving.

February Second - The Festival of Yemanjá

Yemanjá

Every year on February Second, some million or more people in the Brazilian city of Salvador, Bahia, walk in procession through the streets of the Rio Vermelho district of that city, all dressed in white, making their way down to the seashore and the small house that's said to be the home of Yemanjá, a powerful goddess (Orixá) in the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé. Yemanjá is the essence of motherhood, the protector of children, fishermen and sailors, and most importantly, she is the sea itself. When the celebrants reach the shore Yemanjá's they pass their baskets laden with gifts for the goddess to fishermen to take out to sea and leave them on the waters as offerings to the Orixá. Gifts for Yemanjá often include images of the goddess, flowers and objects of female vanity (perfume, jewelry, combs, lipsticks, mirrors). Later in the day, the festival of Yemanjá becomes a massive street party which carries on into the night.

In the synchristic tradition that blends the Orixás who traveled to Brazil with African slaves with the saints and holy figures of Christianity who arrived with the Portuguese,  Yemanjá is identified with certain aspects of the Virgin Mary, and February Second in the Roman Catholic calendar is the day of Our Lady of Navigators (Nossa Senhora dos Navegantes). The celebrants at Salvador's festival honor one divinity in two personages, the African Yemanjá and the Christian Our Lady, without thoughts of separation or difference between the two.

Gifts for Yemanjá

As with all the gods and goddess of the Candomblé tradition, Yemanjá is associated with certain foods, and these foods are offered to her on her special day as well as eaten by her devotees at the street festival that follows the ceremonical activities of the day. Yemanjá's colors, like the Virgin Mary's, are white and blue - obvious choices for a Rainha do Mar (Queen of the Sea). An Orixá's favorite foods are often visually connected with his or her image and chosen colors, Yemanjá's special food are white, or very light in color (there are very few foods that are truly blue). Yemanjá prefers sweet foods, making such dishes as honeyed rice and sweet corn puddings essential parts of her festival. She is said to be particularly fond of a sweet coconut-flavored milk jelly called manjar branco (the word is a cognate of the French-English word blancmange). She also enjoys puffed rice, and this snack is everywhere at her festival.

The following YouTube video was filmed in Salvador on February 02, 2011 during the festival of Yemanjá. The soundtrack is Brazilian singer Baden Powell singing his composition Canto de Yemanjá.


Tomorrow, Flavors of Brazil will publish a recipe for Yemanjá's manjar branco.

Acaçá - Candomblé's Most Important Ritual Food

Take a look at the photo above, one of a series of photographs which we've been publishing the last few days highlighting the intimate connection between the ritual foods of the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé and the traditional cuisine of Bahia, Brazil. You might notice that every one of the ritual dishes in the photograph is topped with a elongated-pyramid-shaped mass of pure white. This is acaçá (prounounced a-ka-SA), the most important of all ritual foods, and the only one whose presence is obligatory at all Candomblé rituals.

For all its importance, acaçá is a very simple preparation. It is simply a thick mush made from grated or ground white corn wrapped and shaped in banana leaves. By itself it has little flavor, although it picks up the flavor of whatever dish it accompanies.

So why is this one food so important in Candomblé? We thought it might be best to let a practitioner of Candomblé explain. The following is our translation of a post about acaçá from the Portuguese-language blog A Tradicional Religião Africana (Traditional African Religion):

The basic definition of acaçá is a mush of grated or ground white corn wrapped, while still hot, in a banana leaf. There is nothing wrong with this definition, but it is extremely superficial because acaçá is by far the most important food of Candomblé. Its preparation is itself a form or ritual or offering, involving rigorous precepts and regulations which may not be disregarded.

All of the orixás [the gods and goddesses of Candomblé], from Exu to Oxalá, are offered acaçá. All the ceremonies from the most simple ebó to the sacrifice of an animal include acaçá. Ritual initiations, funeral rites and anything else that happens in a house of Candomblé only happens in the presence of acaçá. Life and death in Candomblé proceed from this fundamental offering, without which no one is saved from the troubles and disappointments of destiny. When we look back at the history of the orixás, we can see the great evil of a human race distanced from divine power, represented in this case by the powerful Orun, the dwelling place of all humanity, and by the Great Lord of Human Destiny, Olodumaré.

There is only one offering capable of reconstituting axé [the vital force of life] and creating peace and prosperity on Earth, and that is acaçá. But what makes this seemingly simple food the most powerful offering to the orixás? Who can tell us what an acaçá really is?To understand this question, let's make a list of the component elements of acaçá. First, it's important to make clear that the paste of white corn soaked for several days and then pounded in a mortar and pestle is in fact called eco. A portion of this eco, still hot, is wrapped in a banana leaf to harden and take shape and only then does the name acaçá apply. (Today it is possible to buy pre-ground white corn flour, but traditional priests often still use the old method of mortar and pestle to make eco.)

PHOTO GALLERY - Foods of the Gods, Part Two

Continuing with the gallery of photographs from the temples and kitchens of the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé that began yesterday at Flavors of Brazil in this post. Many of these photos come from the market of São Joaquim, located near the center of Salvador, the present-day capital of the state of Bahia, and for more than two centuries (1549-1763)the capital of Brazil. Salvador is known for its distinctive music, architecture, cuisine and religion, all of which share deep African roots. Since more than 80% of Salvador's population has Black African ancestry, it's entirely logical that this be so.


(Remember to click the photos to see them full-size.)

Volunteers at the Umbanda center of "Father" Raimundo Troccli make a sacrificial offering of a rooster purchased the previous day at the market for 50 reais (about 25 USD)

At "Father" Raimundo Troccli's Umbanda center volunteers Graciliano Neto, 24, and Ailda Ferreira, 48, prepare basic seasonings.

Ingredients for foods of the gods can be found at São Joaquim Market, in central Salvador.

"Father" Raimundo Troccli chooses a live rooster for sacrificial offering at the São Joaquim Market.

Bottles of dendê oil at the São Joaquim Market in central Salvador.

Dried shrimps at the São Joaquim Market.

Okra, a ritualistically important food, at the São Joaquim Market in Salvador.

A basket of pomegranates at the São Joaquim Market.

Grating fresh coconuts at the São Joaquim Market.

Black-eyed-peas at the São Joaquim Market in Salvador.

Dried white corn at the São Joaquim Market.

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PHOTO GALLERY - Foods of the Gods

As promised last Saturday here at Flavors of Brazil, this is the first of two posts containing photographs from the Brazilian newspaper Folha de S. Paulo. These photographs accompanied a recent articla in that paper about the intimate connection between the rituals of the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé as it is practiced in the state of Bahia, Brazil, and the state's much-lauded traditional cuisine. Many of the most well-known dishes of Bahian food come directly from Candomblé rituals, and other dishes are inspired by Candomblé.

Candomblé is an animistic and polytheistic religion, with a large pantheon of nature spirits or gods (known as Orixás or Orishas). Its rituals involve possession of the initiated by Orishas, offerings and sacrifices from the mineral, vegetable and animal kingdoms. Rituals begin with the offerings and sacrifice. Then the initiates begin to dance and chant, accompanied by rhythmic percussion that gradually increases in intensity until one or more of the initiated becomes possessed by the spirit on an Orisha. In a trance state, the initiate who bears the spirit of the Orisha takes on the characteristic mannerisms and traits of the Orisha. At the end of the ritual, after the intensity and tension of the possessions, things become more relaxed, and the process ends with an elaborate feast for all participants. The feast usually includes dishes prepared from the animals that were sacrificed and offered to the Orishas.

Here is the first set of photos, with translations of the original captions by Flavors of Brazil. (Remember to click the photos to see them full-size.

Young Ney da Silva Barbosa, aged 9, with dishes of food from the candomblé temple Ile Axé Iba Lugan, headed by mother-of-saints Dona Jacira de Santana Miranda.

Plate of Acarajé: black-eyed pea fritters with shrimps cooked in dendê oil, prepared at the candomblé temple Ile Axé Iba Lugan, headed by mother-of-saints Dona Jacira de Santana Miranda

Mother-of-saints Dona Jacira de Santana Miranda, 60, makes food for the Orishas (for human consumption) at her candomblé temple in Salvador, Bahia.

Mother-of-saints Dona Jaciara Ribeiro cuts okra during preparation of foods of the gods at her temple Axé Abassa de Ogum, in Paripe, on the outskirts of Salvador.

In his Umbanda center in Cosme Faria (a suburb of Salvador) "Father" Raimundo Troccli adds honey to complete a dish of pumpkin cooked with tobacco leaves and acaça to be offered to the Orishá Cabloco.

Mother-of-saints Dona Jaciara Ribeiro preparing okra at her temple.

Mother-of-saints Dona Jaciara Ribeiro adds dendê oil to a dish for the gods.

Food preparation (fried yams and black-eyed peas with dried shrimps) at the temple.

Volunteers at "Father" Raimundo Troccli's Umbanda center serve food after a ritual offering of foods of the gods.

Shredded okra with shrimps, onions and dendê oil (lower right), pumpkin cooked with tobacco leaves, garnished with honey and acaça (upper right), white corn with honey, flower-blossom water and olive oil (lower right), black beans and shrimps, seasoned with onion and olive oil, garnished with acaça; all prepared to be offered to the gods at "Father" Raimundo's Umbanda center.

At the Umbanda center of "Father" Raimundo Troccli, a volunteer stirs a mixture of okra and shrimp, seasoned with onions and dendê.

TEASER - Foods of the Gods

One of the most intriguing things about the traditional Afro-Brazilian cooking of the state of Bahia is the intimate connection between the religion that captive slaves carried with them when they were transported to the sugar-cane fields of Brazil and the ingredients, flavorings and cooking techniques that are characteristic of Bahian food.

The religion, known as candomblé, uses food in many ritualistic ways, and the foods of candomblé have in effect formed the basis of Bahian cuisine. The religion is the font, the source, of Bahian cuisine. Certainly foood culture and religion are closely related in many world cultures, but the nexus in Bahia is uniquely close and intense.

Recently, one of Brazil's major newspapers, Folha de S. Paulo, featured a number of articles in their food and cooking section about this link between religion and food. It was accompanied by some stunningly beautiful photographs that illuminate both the deep-felt spirituality of candomblé and the glories of Bahian food. Next week, we'll post the photos here at Flavors of Brazil, and explore how candomblé and Bahian food are connected at the heart.

To whet your appetite, here are two of the photos. We've left them at a larger size and higher resolution than we usually post here at Flavors of Brazil, so be sure to click the images to see them at their best. And check back next week to see them all.

RECIPE - Xinxim de Galinha

One of the most iconic dishes of the Afro-Brazilian culinary tradition of the state of Bahia, xinxim de galinha not only satisfies the earthly appetite of those who eat it, but also honors the Orixá (goddess) Oxum in the religion that arrived in Bahia from its home in Africa along with the millions of slaves transported to Brazil during colonial times. It's highly likely that xinxim de galinha itself has African ancestors as well.

Xinxim de galinha is a relatively straightforward but marvelously delicious chicken stew - pieces of chicken are quickly browned, then cooked in a thick rich sauce until the chicken is tender. In xinxim, the sauce consists of ground dried shrimp and nuts combined with Bahia's ever-present, brilliant yellow palm oil, dendê.

Of the ingredients in the recipe, only dried shrimp and palm oil are not likely to be available in most any North American or European supermarket. In most metropolitan areas, these can be found, nonetheless, in Asian, African or Latin American markets that cater to immigrant communities. For dendê, look in African or Brazilian markets - in African markets it will be labelled "palm oil." It's bright orange color will identify it. Dried shrimp are used in many different cuisines, and should be obtainable in Chinese, Southeast Asian, Latin or African markets.

Xinxim is normally served with plain white rice, and some sort of hot chili-pepper sauce for those that prefer to add a bit of heat. A simple salad of a piece of lettuce topped by a few slices of tomato and onion is all the garnish that's required.
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RECIPE - Xinxim de Galinha
serves 8

3 fresh limes
3 Tbsp. salt
4 lbs (2 kgs) cut-up pieces of chicken, skinned
3 large onions
2 cloves garlic
1/2 cup ground roasted cashews (can be ground in a food processor or spice grinder)
1/2 cup ground roasted peanuts (can be ground in a food processor or spice grinder)
1 cup peeled dried shrimp
1 cup loosely packed chopped cilantro
1 Tbsp. chopped parsley
2 Tbsp. finely grated fresh ginger
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded
2 cups water
1 Tbsp. extravirgin olive oil
1/2 cup dendê palm oil.
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Squeeze the limes, to extract all their juice, but don't discard the skins. In a large bowl, combine the lime juice, 4 cups (1 liter) water, 1 tray ice cubes, the reserved lime skins, and 2 Tbsp salt. Add the chicken pieces and let stand for 15 minutes. Drain and dry the chicken pieces. Reserve.

In a blender or food processor combine the onions, the ground cashews and peanutes, the garlic, cilantro and parsley, the ginger, 1/2 cup of the shrimp and one cup of water. Process or blend until smooth.

In a deep, heavy pan, heat the olive oil over medium high heat, and brown the chicken pieces, a few at a time, making sure not to overcrown the pan, and adding additional oil as required.

Return the browned chicken to the pot, add the blended sauce ingredients, one more cup of water, and the other 1/2 cup of dried shrimp. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and cover the pan. Cook for about 20 - 30 minutes, stirring from time to time to make sure the sauce doesn't stick to the bottom of the pan and burn, or until the chicken pieces are tender. Add the dendê oil, heat for another minute or so, then remove from heat.

Serve immediately.

FOODS OF THE GODS - Xinxim de Galinha

High above ancient Greece on the peaks of Mt. Olympus, the pantheon of Greek gods and goddesses dined only on ambrosia and drank nothing but nectar. However, in the traditions of Afro-Brazilian religions, particularly candomblé, the gods and goddesses, known as the Orixás, each have their favorite foods. One Orixá might love acarajé, and another not be able to abide it. Devotees of each Orixá honor their deity by offering plates of their favorite foods, and later by eating the offering at the end of the ritual or ceremony.

Many of the most traditional foods of the African-based cuisine of the state of Bahia, on Brazil's northeast coast, are very closely linked to one or more of candomblé's gods and goddesses. The traditional Bahian table looks very similar in secular and religious settings, and the recipes carried down from generation to generation don't vary depending on whether the dish is destined to highlight a family festival, or to be placed before the altar in a terreiro de candomblé.

One of the most well-loved traditional Bahian dishes, xinxim de galinha (pronounced something like she-she-je-gal-een-ya), is intimately linked to one of the most popular Orixás - Oxum, goddess of fresh water, rivers and waterfalls, wealth, love, and beauty. Young and lovely, meticulous and vain, Oxum dresses luxuriously in yellow, her favorite color, and is often characterized as carrying a metal mirror in which she can admire her own beauty. When devotees of Oxum fall into a trance and become possessed by the goddess, they are dressed in white and yellow and given Oxum's metal mirror. In the syncretic tradition of identifying Orixás with Catholic saints or divinities, Oxum is often identified with one or another of the aspects of the Virgin Mary - Our Lady of Conception or the Virgin of Candelaria.

Not surprisingly, considering Oxum's love of the color, xinxim de galinha is a vibrant yellow dish of chicken in a sauce of ground dried shrimp and nuts, enlivened and made golden by the addition of dendê oil. The pieces of chicken are fried first, then cooked until tender in the thick, rich sauce. Xinxim is always served with plain white rice. In the next post, we'll provide a traditional recipe for xinxim de galinha.

Aluá - Brazil's Traditional Homemade Moonshine

To call aluá "moonshine", as Flavors of Brazil has done in the title of this article, is to do it an injustice, as moonshine is normally of high alcoholic and of low gastronomic value - a vehicle for getting drunk, not a fresh and refreshing drink with a bit of sparkle due to fermentation. But by comparing the Brazilian drink aluá to the white-lightning that is moonshine, the similarities between these two beverages are highlighted - their antiquity, their homemade character, their regionality, and the grand variety of ingredients that can be fermented to create the drink.

The history of aluá in Brazil is long, but it is dim and unsettled. Some authorities say that the technique of fermenting grains or fruits mixed with water and sugar came to Brazil with the Portuguese and that they in turn learned it from the Moors. For these folks, the word aluá derived from the Arabic word "heluon" meaning "sweet." Other food historians think that it was the slaves from Africa that brought aluá to Brazil, and that the name comes from an African tongue. Still others think that indigenous peoples of the Americas were making aluá long before either the Portuguese or the African arrived.

Freed slaves selling aluá - 19th cent.

In any case, aluá has been a popular drink for centuries and remains so today, particularly in the North and Northeast of Brazil. In the semi-arid interior of the Northeast, the sertão, the drink is particularly associated with the Festas Juninas, the cycle of festivals that occurs in the month of June. People make a supply of aluá to serve to the steady stream of visitors to their homes during the festivals, and it is shared by dancers and spectators at quadrilhas, which are folk-dancing exhibitions and contests. In the state of Minas Gerais, tradition forbids the sale of aluá. It must be given or shared in a spirit of conviviality. Because it's alcoholic content is quite low, normally around 3%, aluá can lighten and animate the spirit without causing the drinker to exhibit any of the negative signs of drunkenness.

In the state of Bahia, aluá is associated with the ceremonies and rituals of candomblé, the Afro-Brazilian religion of the region. There, it is traditionally served in enormous jars, and offered to the twin divinities Ibeji (although consumed by the celebrants).

The basic concept of aluá is to create a mixture of either fruit or grain plus water, then let it ferment naturally for a short time before drinking. Normally it only takes about a day for the fermentation process to occur naturally in the heat of Brazil, so the drink is most often made the day before it is to be served. In cooler climates, fermentation will naturally take a bit longer. Unless the drink is refrigerated, however, it will continue to ferment and increase in alcoholic content, so it is best drunk when it is still at an early stage in the fermentation process - otherwise, it can become unpleasant and dangerously high in alcohol.

In the next post on Flavors of Brazil, I'll provide two recipes for aluá; one made with fruit and one with grains.

RECIPE - Abará

The Afro-Brazilian dish from the state of Bahia called abará is based on a dough or paste made from mashed black-eyed peas. This same dough is also the starting point for the most famous of Bahian dishes acarajé. In the case of acarajé the dough is formed into a ball and deep-fried in a fragrant palm oil known as dendê, while acarajé is made by wrapping the dough into packets inside banana leaves, then steaming them.

While making the dough from dried black-eyed peas may seem like a simple task, and certainly reads like one in a recipe, it's far from fast-n-easy. I once decided to treat some Canadian friends to homemade acarajé at a dinner party, a decision which I regretted almost immediately, and which I'll never repeat. To make either acarajé or abará a pound of dried beans must be soaked for twenty-four hours, and then the skins must be taken off them - bean by bean! I have no idea how many beans make up a pound, but taking off those skins takes hours and hours of labor. Some slide off easily and some do not. I seriously do not know how the women who sell acarajé at streetside stands do it every day - they must have armies of bean-skinners at home removing those little black-eyed skins. So, if you do decide to try the following recipe for abará, don't say you haven't been warned. You'll be de-skinning for hours and it'll be weeks before your fingertips lose their "prunes." If you do decide to go ahead, you're in for a absolutely delicious plate of food, with all the soul of Afro-Brazilian tradition. Making abará is a lose-win situation. Go ahead, give it a try.

abará dough

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RECIPE - Abará

1 lb (500 gr) dried black-eyed peas
1  large yellow onion, coarsely grated
1 cup small dried shrimp (available in Asian and Latin American markets)
2 small red Thai chilis (1 serrano chili can be substituted), seeded and chopped
1/2 cup dendê oil (available in Latin American and African markets, often labelled "palm oil")
banana leaves to wrap (available in Asian and Latin American markets)
kitchen twine
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The evening before serving place the black-eyed peas in cold water to cover, with 3 inches of water above the top of the beans. Let soak overnight. In the morning, they will be soft and swollen.

De-skin the black-eyed peas, bean by bean, removing the papery skin and the "black eye". Put the peas through a meat grinder, using the finest grind, or process briefly, in batches, in a food processor. Do not overprocess, or the dough will become sticky and pasty.

Put the dough in a large mixing bowl, and beat with a large wooden spoon until it become light and airy. Add the dried shrimp, the chili and the dendê oil. Beat again to thoroughly mix.

Cut the banana leaves with scissors into squares of approximately 8 inches (20 cm) on a side. Place a wooden-spoonful of dough in the center of a square, fold over each side to make a square package, and then tie with kitchen twine. Continue until you have wrapped all the dough in banana leaves.

Steam the packages in a large covered stockpot or other steaming device, cooking them for about 25-30 minutes. Remove from heat, let cool completely.

Serve the abará at room temperature, still in their banana-leaf packages, accompanied by some sort of fresh made hot chili sauce.

Recipe translated and adapted from Receitas tradicionais da cozinha baiana by Ligia Junqueira.

Abará - Bahia's Version of a Pamonha/Tamal

In yesterday's post on Flavors of Brazil, while discussing how important the black-eyed pea (feijão-fradinho) has always been in traditional Brazilian gastronomy, I mentioned that it was particularly associated with the regional cuisine of the state of Bahia, the center of Brazil's Afro-Brazilian culture. Salvador, the capital of Bahia, was the capital of all of Brazil during earlier colonial times, and was the center of a vast area of sugar-cane cultivation. The agriculture of sugar cane requires a tremendous amount of human labor, a need which was met with the transportation of millions of Africans to work in the fields as slaves. Among the things that arrived in Brazil in their meager belongings must have been some black-eyed peas, which were planted and which thrived in Bahia.

In addition to eating these legumes cooked but whole, the black cooks of Bahia learned to de-skin black-eyed peas, mash them, and use the mashed beans to create a number of dishes, some of which have become iconic dishes of Afro-Brazilian cuisine. The most famous, without a doubt, is acarajé, a fritter made of frying mashed black-eyed peas in dendê palm oil. (Click here to read about acarajé on Flavors of Brazil.) Another dish made with the same mashed beans is called abará, and it's related both to Mexico's tamales, and to the Brazilian cornmeal dish pamonha.  What all three dishes have in common is that they share the common technique of wrapping a moist paste in banana leaves, and then steaming them. This technique is common throughout Latin American, and these are not the only examples. But it does show how a shared method of cooking is modified and adapted to local conditions - in the case of abará, by substituting mashed black-eyed peas for cornmeal.

Like acarajé, abará is not just a well-loved traditional dish. It is also intensely associated with the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé, and in that religious tradition it is one of the ritual foods offered to the gods and goddesses of Candomblé, the Orixás, during ceremonial occasions.