More Moonshine - Mocororó

Caju (cashew) fruit

Back in 2010, Flavors of Brazil published a post about a Brazilian drink called aluá, a lightly acoholic concoction made from pinapple peelings, sugar and water. (There's also a version made with soaked dried corn and recipes for both can be found here.) At the time we noted that aluá, which has a very long history, is particularly associated with tradional festivals - the festas juninas of Brazil's northeast, and the feasts that play an integral part in the ceremonies of the Bahian afro-brazilian religion Candomblé.

The folk traditions of northeastern Brazil also include another fruit-based alcoholic beverage, and this one is associated with specific folk rituals as well. The drink is called  mocororó, and drinking it is an important part of a folk dance in that region of the country called torém.

Both the drink, mocororó, and the dance, torém, have been traced back to pre-Columbian indigenous rituals, and both to this day carry connotations of Brazil's first inhabitants. Both are found throughout the northeastern part of Brazil, but are most closely associated to the traditions of the state of Ceará, where Flavors of Brazil is based.

Almost universally, primitive humankind has discovered ways to turn the sugars in fruit drinks into alcohol, and to imbibe the result for ritualistic use or purely for pleasure. Sweet drinks, left in the open air for a few days, become inbued with natural fermenting agents, primarily yeasts, and these agents transform the sugar in the drink into alcohol. What was once fruit juice becomes an alcoholic drink.

Humankind has long since learned how to help this natural process on its way, both by the artificial introduction of fermenting agents, and by the controlling the temperature of the drink so that it remains at a temperature conducive to fermentation. In the production of mocororó, Brazilian Amerindians left the introduction of fermenting agents to nature, but did lend a helping hand once fermentation had begun.

Mocororó is made from juice pressed from the caju fruit (the same fruit which gives us cashew nuts). The juice is left in the open air until fermentation starts, and then it is put into clay or glass containers. At this point, a very clever technique is used to enhance the fermentation process. The containers are buried in hot sand (which is easy to find along the coast and on riverbanks of Ceará) for up to six months. The sand ensures a perfect and consistent temperature for fermentation (and presumably also makes it less easy to "sample" the product before it's ready). After some time, the mocororó is dug up by which time it has quite an alcoholic punch.

 Mocororó is traditionally served in indigenous festivals and ceremonies in which the torém is danced. The Brazilian National Central of Folklore and Popular Culture describes the torém this way:

Group dance with participants of both sexes, who form themselves into a circle with a soloist in the center. It is a ritual dance of indigenous origin, whose participants imitate animals - like the jump of the mullet fish, the fight of raccoons, the song of the parakeet, the lunge of a snake. Shaking an aguiam, a type of maraca, the soloist advances and retreats, quivers, jumps and stamps his feet, often imitating the snake or the lizard, demonstrating his dexterity and flexibility. The other dancers mark the beat by stamping their feet and moving around the circle in a counter-clockwise direction. The music is sung by the soloist and repeated by the chorus of the other dancers. Mocororó is distributed during the dance  Prevalent in the state of Ceará, the torém is danced during the caju harvest season, on social occassions and when indigenous groups meet other tribes.

The drink has stayed close to its origins and there is no commercial production of mocororó in Brazil. As a result, Flavors of Brazil cannot comment on either its flavor nor its alcoholic strength. But we have our eye out for it, and should we ever come across any, we'll report back soon there after (as soon as we recover, that is).

Translation and adaptation of Portuguese text by Flavors of Brazil.

RECIPE - Grilled Lobster (Lagosta Grelhado na Casca)

As with many other foods, lobster cooked and served simply is often the best - better than when hidden in a thick cream sauce or a spicy tomato sauce. In a simple presentation, the sweet and succulent flavor of the lobster shines through, something that doesn't happen when this subtle meat is combined with strongly-flavored sauces.

For most North Americans and Europeans, especially those who are dealing with a true lobster (click here to read more about the lobster family), lobster cooked simply means boiled lobster. However, in Brazil it's not common at all to see boiled lobster on restaurant menus, or at the family table. In Brazil, lobster cooked simply means grilled lobster. Grilling a lobster in the shell is an excellent way to showcase the flavor of the crustacean. Unlike boiled lobster, which adds no flavor at all to the meat, grilled lobster adds the note of smokiness that is characteristic of grilled foods. This hint of smokiness doesn't mask the flavor of the lobster, just makes it a bit more complex. And as far as Brazilians are concerned, this also makes it even more delicious.

Here's a recipe from the northeastern Brazilian state of Ceará, one of the principal sources of Brazilian lobster. It works best with spiny lobster (the tropical one), but is also suitable for true lobsters as well.
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RECIPE - Grilled Lobster (Lagosta Grelhado na Casca)
Serves 4

4 whole spiny lobsters (thawed if frozen)
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
salt to taste
fresh lime wedges
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Cut each lobster into two pieces, cutting on the longitudinal axis from head to tail. This is best done with strong kitchen scissors. Do not remove the meat from the shell. Sprinkle the white wine and a bit of salt over the cut side of each piece and reserve while the grill heats to medium heat.

Using a grill brush, brush the olive oil on the grill to prevent sticking.  Place the lobster tails on the grill, meat side down and grill for a few minutes, or until the meat is opaque and the surface has just begun to brown. Turn the tails over, and grill with the shell side down until the shells have turned bright red. Remove from the grill.

Serve immediately, with a green salad and boiled potatoes or white rice. Accompany with plenty of fresh lime wedges for squeezing over the lobster.

RECIPE - Dona Zena's Meatballs (Bola da Carne da Dona Zena)

First place winner in Fortaleza in the 2012 edition of Brazil's largest national gastronomic competition, Comida di Buteco, Dona Zena's meatballs have been a favorite on Dona Zena's eponymous restaurant in downtown Fortaleza for more than 20 years. They're no flash in the pan - some of the dish's biggest fans grew up on these meatballs, and are now passing their love onto their children and grandchildren.

Previous posts on Flavors of Brazil have highlighted the restaurant and the prize-winning chef, so it's entirely appropriate that we end our series of posts on Dona Zena with her authentic recipe, courtesy of Brazilian food website Receitas & Dietas (Recipes and Diets).

This recipe is very simple, and maybe it's the simplicity itself which makes it appeal to so many people. There are no ingredients that are difficult to source or very expensive. True Brazilian comfort food that deserves a place in your repertory.
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RECIPE - Dona Zena's Meatballs (Bola da Carne da Dona Zena)
Makes 12 large meatballs

2 1/4 lb (1 kg) good quality ground meat - ground chuck is best
1/2 cup ripe tomato, peeled, seeded and finely chopped
1/4 cup  onion, peeled, seeded and finely chopped
1/4 cup green bell pepper, seeded and finely chopped
1/4 cup cilantro, leaves only, finely chopped

1 Tbsp garlic, minced
3 Tbsp white wine vinegar
3 Tbsp soy sauce
salt and pepper to taste
neutral vegetable oil for frying

In a large mixing bowl combine all the ingredients, mixing them together with your moistened hands. Try not to press or compact the mixture.

Line a cookie sheet with wax paper or cooking parchment. With moistened hands divide the meat mixture into twelve portions and form each portion into balls by rolling it between your palms. Don't over-compact the mixture - it should be pressed together only enough to make it keep its shape.

In a large deep frying pan, heat a small amount of oil, then fry the meatballs, in batchesof 4, turning them over frequently until they are cooked through and nicely brown on all sides. Remove each batch, reserving and keeping warm, before continuing with another batch, until all the meatballs are done.

Serve 3 or 4 meatballs per person, accompanied by a lettuce and sliced tomato salad and white rice.

One Name, Two Dishes - Paçoca

It's natural that in a country as large as Brazil there would be regional variations in traditional dishes. One region might add tomatoes to a dish and another leave them out. One region might use cream to thicken and enrich a sauce while somewhere else they might use coconut milk for the same purpose.

But regional variations in Brazilian gastronomy go farther than swapping ingredients in a recipe. It's not uncommon to find that in distantly-separated regions one name can be applied to dishes that have absolutely nothing to do with each other - no common ingredients, no common technique, no common heritage.

Knowing a bit of Brazilian history helps to explain why this might be so. In colonial times in Brazil each of the various regions that were settled by Europeans, primarily Portuguese, were separate colonies and had very little contact with each other. Often inter-colony contact was only through Lisbon, the capital of the Portuguese empire. Each region had its own separate administration, an entirely separate economy and a unique culture not shared with other colonies. It was only at the time of independence that the various colonies united to create Brazil, and even then it was not without significant bloodshed.

A good example of this process is paçoca (pronouned pah-SO-ka). The word itself is indigenous in origin, coming from the Tupi word posok meaning smashed or shattered, but in Portuguese it has come to mean one of two very different dishes depending on where one is located.

paçoca nordestina (with carne de sol)

In the northeastern states of Brazil, particularly in Ceará, and Rio Grande do Norte, paçoca is a dish made of shredded carne de sol (sun-dried beef), farinha (manioc flour) and chopped red onion, traditionally all pulverized together with a mortar and pestle (that's the smashing or shattering part by which the dish got its name). In southeast Brazil,  paçoca has nothing to do with beef, manioc or onions - it's a candy very much like peanut brittle. Peanuts are crushed (smashed or shattered) then mixed with sugar and formed into bars. It was a traditional home-made candy in earlier times in Brazil, but now it's usually commercially made and sold in corner markets, candy shops and by streetside vendors.

paçoca with peanuts

In the next posts on Flavors of Brazil, we'll publish recipes for both versions of  - readers can try them both out and find out which they prefer. And if you should find your self in Brazil one day, remember what region you're in when you ask for paçoca. You could be in for a unwanted surprise if your in the wrong part of the country.

RECIPE - Crab in Coconut Milk (Caranguejo ao Leite de Coco)

In yesterday's post, we discussed Fortaleza's Thursday night ritual of heading out to a beach bar or casual restaurant for a crab feast. Every beach bar along Fortaleza's principal beach, Praia do Futuro, touts their own recipe as the best, but in fact, almost anywhere you go the basic recipe is the same. The recipe is so closely associated with Fortaleza and surrounding beach communities that it's sometimes called Caranguejo Cearense, meaning "Crab from Ceará" the state of which Fortaleza is the capital.

At its simplest, and most traditional, the recipe calls for cooking/steaming the crabs in a broth of rich coconut milk seasoned with garlic, onions, and tomatoes and garnished with lavish amounts of chopped cilantro. During the cooking process, the coconut milk is infused with the juices of the crabs so that when the dish is presented the aromas of the coconut milk and of briny seafood combine into a mouth-watering invitation to pick up the hammer, grab a crab and begin to smash and nosh the night away.

In Fortaleza, this recipe is made with local caranguejo-uçá crabs but can be successfully be made with whatever species of crab is available in your local market - with the possible exception of Alaska king crabs which are better suited to other treatments due to their enormous size.
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RECIPE - Crab in Coconut Milk (Caranguejo ao Leite de Coco)
Serves 4 - 8 depending on size of crabs

4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 medium tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
2 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
2 cups (500 ml) coconut milk
1 tsp. annatto powder or oil (can substitute sweet paprika)
1 bunch cilantro, large stems removed, finely chopped
8 small crabs, thoroughly washed
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In a large saucepan with a lid, heat the olive oil, then add the garlic, tomatoes and onion and fry until the onion and garlic are softened and the tomato is breaking up. Stir in the coconut milk, the annato or paprika and half of the cilantro. Cook a few more minutes or until the tomato has completely broken up. Bring the liquid to the boiling point.

Add the crabs plus just enough water to cover them. Reduce heat, cover the pan and let the crabs cook/steam for 10 minutes. Remove from heat.

Put the crabs in a deep serving bowl, pour the cooking liquid over, then sprinkle the remaining cilantro over all. Serve immediately, to be eaten by hand.

Hometown Crab - Caranguejo-Uçá

For thousands of local residents Thursday night in Fortaleza, Ceará, Flavors of Brazil's hometown, means only one thing - crab. On Thursday nights, beachside and downtown bars restaurants alike serve up thousands of crabs to hungry diners. On Tuesday almost no one orders crab, nor on Wednesday or Saturday, but on Thursday the first question a waiter will ask you is likely to be "How many?" rather than "What would you like?". You give him a number and off he goes. He sets the table with small wooden chopping boards and wooden hammers, lots of paper napkins, a plastic bowl for empty shells and hot sauce. Then he brings the feast - small crabs steamed/cooked in a rich broth of coconut milk seasoned with onion, tomatoes and cilantro. A crab goes on the chopping board, you rip the legs off, use the hammer to open them, and the feast begins. And to accompany the crabs? Plenty of icy cold beer, or soft drinks. That's all.

Late last year, when we introduced some friends visiting from Canada to the Thursday night crab ritual, they exclaimed in shock when the bowl of crabs arrived at the table - "Yech! Their legs are hairy!!" And true it was. But once we explained that the hair doesn't come off and that in fact if you dip one of the legs into the delicious broth the hair helps to bring the broth to your mouth they began to relax and to enjoy the meal. But it was a definite culture-shock moment, that first sight of the hirsute crustaceans.

Mangrove swamp

The overwhelming majority of crabs served on these Thursday night blowouts is a species called (in Portuguese) caranguejo-uçá. Caranguejo is the Portuguese word for crab - any crab - and  uçá is a Portuguese adaptation of the species' taxonomic name (Ucides cordatus). Uçá crabs are small, about the same size as an adult human hand. The species is one of two known as mangrove crabs, as their unique habitat are muddy mangrove swamps. The animals live on and in the mud, burrowing in when the tide is high and scuttling about when the tide is low. They are very important to the ecology of mangrove swamps, which are plentiful along the northeast and north coasts of Brazil.

crabs on a string

Most of the supply of crabs for Fortaleza's restaurants and bars comes from the area around delta of the Parnaíba river, about 250 kms. away, in the neighboring state of Piauí. In the city of Parnaíba, located near the mouth of the river and within close distance to miles of coastal mangrove swamps, the harvest and merchandising of crabs are the prime local economic activity. Crabs are commonly sold by the string - each string containing four crabs. Each week during crabbing season about 65,000 strings of crabs are sold in Parnaíba. A crab fisher received 25 centavos (R$0.25) for a string, a price which by the time it reaches a restaurant or bar in Fortaleza sells for R$10. In most beach bars and casual restaurants in Fortaleza, each crab sells for about R$4. Ask a crab fisher how easy it is to catch crabs in their muddy habitat and whether he thinks he's being fairly compensated - the answer is like to be a firm NO. And he'd have a point. The retail price in Fortaleza, which is still only about USD$2 per crab, is 60 times what the fisher receives.

For tourists coming to our city it's essential to try the Thursday night crab feast at least once - it's an important part of local gastronomy. Leaving Fortaleza without eating Caranguejo-Uçá is as heinous a gastronomic crime as leaving New Orleans without eating a Po' Boy sandwich, Naples without sampling pizza in the land of its birth or Vancouver not having indulged in wild Pacific sockeye salmon. Don't do it!

A Promise Fulfilled - Buchada

Back in October of 2009, in the very first month of this blog's existance, I wrote a post about a dish called buchada - one of the most well-known traditional dishes of Ceará, the northeastern Brazilian state where Flavors of Brazil originates. (Click here to read the post). At the time that the post was published, I rashly promised that although I'd never eaten buchada, I would do so in due course and report the results to the blog's readers.

A firm believer in the better-late-than-never philosophy of life, I can now report that I have done as I promised there - I have eaten buchada. Not only that, I've lived to tell the tale.

What might make buchada something that one might promise to eat, and then take nearly three years to fulfil the promise? Let's just say it's because the dish is simply offal (sorry, can't resist a bad pun). The dish's name buchada derives from the Portuguese word bucho, meaning meaning animal stomach, and that's exactly what buchada is: an animal's stomach stuffed with the same animal's innards - things like intestines, lungs, spleen, heart etc. - sewn up like a purse and cooked.

You might call buchada Brazil's answer to Scotland's haggis, though the difference is that the innards in buchada are coarsely chopped and there's nothing added to them to create the stuffing, whereas in haggis they're finely chopped and mixed with oatmeal before being stuffed into the stomach.

In any case, for someone who's never been a big fan of offal, buchada was a challenge, or rather, the idea of eating buchada  was a challenge. In the end, at a holiday luncheon today at the house of a friend, the main dish was homemade buchada, and having it served at the table meant that it would be impolite to refuse it. Not only that, in term of the promise made here at Flavors of Brazil three years ago, it would have been cowardly to refuse. So, with a half lamb stomach's worth of buchada staring up at me from my plate, I managed not to disgrace myself among the tableful of buchada-lovers. I cleaned my plate, to the delight of my fellow guests who'd been placing bets on whether the gringo would be able to down a plateful of buchada.

In the end, what was it like? It certainly wasn't awful tasting - in fact it really didn't have that much taste at all; it was quite bland. The stomach itself was quite tender, but some of the bits inside, which I tried not to look at too closely or identify, were chewy, almost rubbery. The seasoning was simple, just some onion, garlic and salt and pepper as far as I could tell, although there was a delicious gravy served alongside. Cultural or other problems in eating animal organs aside, there was really nothing special about the dish. It was neither delicious or revolting, just somewhat characterless and lacking in flavor. My worries about eating buchada were, in the end, much ado about nothing. At the lunch table, though, it was clear my somewhat negative opinion about the culinary merits of buchada was a minority opinion - the rest of the diners all seemed to love it, and heartily praised the cook. I'm thinking perhaps, like many offbeat traditional foods, you must have to have been raised on the stuff to truly appreciate it.

As for me, buchada is now mission accomplished. The promise to eat it for this blog's readers isn't hanging over me any longer - I can now gracefully say, next time a serving of buchada is offered to me, no thanks!

RECIPE - Ceará Fish Stew (Peixada Cearense)

In yesterday's post about peixada cearense, we mentioned that the dish, like many other traditional dishes in Brazil and elsewhere, has numerous recipes and an untold number of variations. But unlike, for example, moqueca de peixe from Bahia or something like Greek moussaka, peixada cearense was popularized by one particular restaurateur in Ceará's capital, Fortaleza, only fifty-plus years ago. Thus, the myriad of recipes for peixada cearense can be thought of as theme and variations. There is Alfredo, Rei dos Peixes' recipe (the theme) and everybody else's (the variations).

In studying classical piano, it doesn't make any sense to practice the variations until you know the theme. Same thing with peixada cearense. The recipe below is Alfredo's original - once mastered, it can be changed, amended, altered and varied as you see fit. But you should try it this way the first time, just so you know the original.

One thing that you might have to vary, even the first time through, is the kind of fish that you use. Alfredo uses fish that are caught locally - right outside the front door of his restaurant, in fact. Fish like dourado, garoupa and badejo. You should too - use only fish that are fresh in your own city's fish markets. Firm-fleshed white fish are best, particularly those that can be bought in the form of steaks. We're found that one of the best is halibut, but in others can be just as successfully substituted in making your own peixada.
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RECIPE - Ceará Fish Stew (Peixada Cearense)
Serves 4

2 lb (800 gr) fish steaks - any firm-fleshed white variety
1 small (1/2 medium) green cabbage, cut into chunks
2 large boiling potatoes, peeled and halved or quartered depending on size
2 tomatoes, seeded and halved
2 medium carrots, peeled and quartered
1 green bell pepper, seeded and cut into large pieces
2 whole eggs, hardboiled and peeled
1 cup (250 ml) coconut milk
3 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
annatto oil (can substitute 1 Tbsp sweet paprika
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
1/4 cup chopped green onion, green parts only
salt and pepper to taste
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Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan. Add the onion, carrot, and bell pepper and cook for about five minutes. Add the annatto oil or paprika, mix well, then add the tomato, cabbage and potato. Add water just to cover the ingredients, then cover the pan, reduce heat and cook just until the potatoes and carrots are almost cooked.

Add the fish steaks, salt and pepper to taste, and the coconut milk. Stir gently to mix. Cook for about five minutes, uncovered, or until the fish is cooked and just beginning to flake. Add the whole eggs, continue to cook just until they are heated through, then remove from heat.

Stir in the cilantro and green onion, pour into a deep serving bowl and serve accompanied by white rice.

Ceará's Iconic Dish (since 1958) - Peixada Cearense

Jangada at Mucuripe beach

Map from 1629 showing Ponta Mucuripe

At the eastern end of Fortaleza's 3 km seaside promenade known as Beira Mar is a fishing community called Mucuripe. Although it is now located in the middle of a touristic strip of hotels, restaurants and bars, the harbor at Mucuripe still shelters hundred of jangadas - the primitive rafts on which Brazilian fishermen have gone to sea for centuries. There is a thriving fish market located right on the beach, there's a small Catholic church, and there are two of Fortaleza's oldest and most well-known seafood restaurants.

The first seafood restaurant in Mucuripe was opened back in 1958, when Mucuripe was a separate village, by Alfredo Louzada de Souza. He named the restaurant after himself, and in later years added the nickname he earned from the fame of his most famous dish - Alfredo, O Rei da Peixada, or The King of Peixada. The restaurant is still flourishing today, as is the next door restaurant owned by Alfredo's son, Marquinho. It's called, naturally, Marquinhos Delícias Cearenses.

Together, father and son have created a dynasty of seafood restaurants in Mucuripe, and in the process have made their common signature dish, peixada, the most famous and sought-after dish in the state of Ceará. Tourists in the millions arrive in Fortaleza every year, and many of them arrive already have already decided that they want to try peixada during their visit. Almost every restaurant in the city that offers seafood has peixada on the menu, but for the original recipe in its original location, one has to go to Mucuripe.

Alfredo didn't invent peixada out of the clear blue sky. Fish stews and chowders are common dishes all along the coast of Brazil, with local variations in every region. But it was Alfredo who codified the ingredients for peixada cearense, and today his recipe is almost universally recognized as ur-peixada.
Afredo's peixada is centered around thick-cut fish steaks from any of a number of local species cooked in a broth with a good dose of coconut milk, augmented by pieces of cabbage, tomato, potato, green pepper and whole hard-boiled eggs. Obligatory accompaniments are plain white rice and fish pirão.

Peixada is a substantial dish and a meal in itself. And for many who eat it, whether in Ceará or far away, it's the one dish that carries with it the history and flavor of the once-upon-a-time seaside fishing village that was Mucuripe.

RECIPE - Panelada

Should you decide that you want to make the traditional Brazilian stew called panelada, you're likely to run into two obstacles en route to a culinary home run at the dinner table. First, if you live in North America or metropolitan areas of Europe you're likely to have problems finding sources for some of the ingredients that the dish demands. Things like cow stomach (including but not limited to tripe) and cow intestines. The other problem (at least if you consider honesty a virtue) is convincing family members, dinner guests or amyone else to whom you serve the dish to try panelada with an open mind. (If you don't consider honesty a virtue and try to lie your way into general acceptance of panelada the shape and form of the stomach and intestines will probably give your game away.)

But there are always those culinary pioneers who boldly go where no cook has gone before, and for them we offer this recipe for panelada from the northeastern Brazilian state of Ceará, where panelada is considered an iconic dish.
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RECIPE - Panelada
Serves 4

1/2 lb (250 gr) cow stomach (tripe may be substituted)
1/2 lb (250 gr ) cow intestine
juice of 3 limes
1/2 Tbsp salt
2 large tomatoes, seeded and chopped
2 medium onions, chopped
1/2 Tbsp annatto powder (sweet paprika may be substituted)
2 bay leaves
1 red or green bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1 cup chopped cilantro
fresh-ground black pepper to taste
6 cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeno or serrano chili
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Using kitchen scissors, cut the stomach (or tripe) into small squares and the intestine into 1/2 in (1 cm) rings. Wash them very well in several changes of water. Put them in a heavy saucepan, cover with cold water, add the lime juice and bring to a boil over medium high heat. Let boil for one minute, then drain them in a sieve. When cool, wash again in several changes of fresh water.

In a large pan, combine the washed stomach or tripe and intestine, the salt, the chopped tomato and onions, the annatto or paprika and the bay leaves. Heat over medium heat, partially covered. Stir from time to time to mix ingredients and to help the tomato to break down. When liquid comes to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for approximately 40 minutes, adding a small amount of water from time to time if the dish appears to be drying out.

Stir in the bell peppers, the garlic and chilis. Cover the pan and cook over low heat until the meats can be easily pierced with a fork and are tender.

Remove from heat, pour into a deep serving bowl and mix in the chopped cilantro. Serve immediately accompanied by white rice.

Panelada - A Polarizing Dish

Some foods, and some prepared dishes, evoke strongly opposing reactions among those who try or sample them. Call them the "love 'em or hate 'em" items of the food world. In a recent article in Huffington Post, ten foods were listed as being among the most polarizing - no one seems to be neutral about them. The ten were, in no special order, cilantro, blue cheese, Vegamite/Marmite, celery, coconut, liver, mayonnaise, marzipan, green pepper and licorice.

Just like those foods, there are some prepared dishes that get some folks' mouths watering and others trying to stifle a gag reaction. Scottish haggis, Norwegian lutefisk, Dutch raw herring, Chinese Dim Sum chicken feet, even sushi. Those who love these dishes don't just love them, they adore them. And those who don't - well, they can't abide them.

In Brazil, even though it contains such potential troublesome pig parts such as salted ears, salted tail and salted belly fat, almost everybody loves the dish often considered Brazil's national dish - feijoada. Or at least no one will admit they don't like it. But another widely loved traditional stew, called panelada, evokes a strong pro or con reaction even among Brazilians. For some Brazilians, panelada is the ultimate comfort food - something to eat on a cold rainy day, or the best cure for a wicked hangover. For others, even the smell of panelada cooking is enough to send them flying out of the kitchen with their hand over their mouths.

Panelada is just one of the many Brazilian variants of a stew - meat and vegetables cooked in a thick broth, all served together. Writer Roberto Da Matta, in his book "O Que Faz o Brasil, Brasil?" (What makes Brazil Brazil?), talks about the general Brazilian preference for stew-type dishes, from feijoada to peixada, to dobradinha, and of course, to panelada, "It appears we (Brazilians) have a prediliction for food that is neither liquid nor solid but halfway between the two."

panelada

So it's not the fact that it's a stew that makes panelada a "problematic" dish. It's what that stew contains. A proper panelada contains a wide variety of those parts of an animal collectively known as offal. One recipe, for example, calls for 2 lbs (1 kg) each of tripe, intestines, nerves and feet. another calls for hoof instead of foot. Most recipes will call for, at minimum, tripe, intestines and foot. It's these ingredients that make panelada, to coin a phrase, one man's meat and another man's poison.

Although panelada is made, and loved or hated, all around Brazil, it is particularly associated in most Brazilians' minds with the northeastern region of the country. Tomorrow we'll publish a recipe for a northeastern panelada, one from the state of Ceará.

RECIPE - Pumpkin Pudding (Curau de Abóbora)

Pumpkin pie is unknown in Brazil, or it seems to be from what we've discovered researching Brazilian cookbooks, websites and blogs. Nonetheless, Brazilians cook frequently with pumpkins - in fact, with all the hard winter squashes - and they are familiar with pumpkin's ability to shine in sweet dishes as well as savory ones.

In this easy dessert dish, which comes from the northeastern state of Ceará, pureed pumpkin is combined with coconut milk and whole milk, then cooked down to create a thickened pudding. The use of coconut milk adds a distinctly Brazilian touch and the addition of powdered cinnamon at the end of the cooking process recalls the way pumpkin is spiced in North American sweet dishes.

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RECIPE - Pumpkin Pudding (Curau de Abóbora) 
Serves 4

1 lb peeled and cubed pumpkin or winter squash
1 cup (250 ml) coconut milk
2 cups whole milk
1/2 cup granulated white sugar
1/2 tsp salt
2 Tbsp cornstarch
3 Tbsp unsalted butter
powdered cinnamon
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Cook the cubed pumpkin in boiling water until it is very soft. Drain thoroughly. When slightly cool, place the pumpkin in a blender or food processor with the coconut milk, the milk, the sugar, salt, cornstarch and butter. Blend until completely homogenous.

Put the blended mixture in a double boiler and cook over boiling water, stirring constantly, for thirty minutes, or until the mixture has thickened. Remove from heat.

Pour the mixture into four ramekins or custard cups. Sprinkle the surface with powdered cinnamon. Place the cups in the refrigerator for at least three hours and serve cold.

This Week in Unnecessary Local Food Trends

As regular readers of Flavors of Brazil know, the blog is a firm believer in the benefits of eating locally - that is eating food produced in relatively close proximity to where it is eaten. For many reasons, it's generally a good thing - the food is fresher, tends to be less expensive because of reduced transportation costs, and it's more authentic, among other good reasons.

However, last night at a party we were introduced to a product that certainly must be described as local, as it is manufactured here in Flavors of Brazil's hometown, Fortaleza. But we're not sure that it's really all that relevant that this drink, called Forró Power, qualifies as being part of our "100 Mile Diet". We did find it kind of fascinating nonetheless, and worthy of an article in the blog.

Forró Power is an energy drink - that is, it's a locally-produced variation or imitation of Red Bull. Sweet and sugary, it carries a potent stimulating kick. It's "power" comes from caffeine, guaraná and assorted other herbs. Energy drinks typically have three or four times the stimulating effect of coffee or Coca-cola. In flavor and effect, Forró Power is no different than any of the other energy drinks on the market.

What makes Forró Power interesting, though, is not the fact that it's made locally in Ceará, but more the way the manufacturers have decided to market it with a distinctly local name and advertising campaign.

 The name Forró Power was chosen to appeal to fans of an energetic style of music and dance that originated in this region of Brazil and which is  the most popular music style locally even in this day of international music stars like Lady Gaga, Rihanna and Adele. The word forró itself (pronounced foh-HO) has a unidentifiable etymology (click here for more) but the music has been popular in northeastern Brazil for close to eighty years. Forró dances, held in large halls similar to country music venues in the USA, draw thousands of fans weekly. Dance floors hold hundreds of couples at a time, and Forró events carry on all night, ending only when the sun comes up.

To give the blog's readers who might not be familiar with forró some idea of what it's all about (and why dancers might need an energy boost at 4 am!) here are two videos from YouTube. The first one shows the more traditional style of forró, which is referred to as the Pé de Serra style. Pé de Serra means "foothill" and refers to the rural origins of the dance in the mountainous interior of Brazil's northeast. The second shows modern pop forró, electrified and sexed up. The intended market for Forró Power is definitely the fans of this genre. Dancing all night at this speed requires a lot of stamina, which is maybe why Forró Power doesn't come in small 6 oz cans like Red Bull does - it delivers a full liter (about a quart) of caffeine-induced stimulation.

Pé de Serra  forró


Pop forró

On the Road - Jericoacoara (Pt. 3)

"Don't go to the bar, it'll come to you."

Getting to Jericoacoara is difficult, getting a drink once you get there is not. Should you be thinking that a beer or a caipirinha sounds like a good idea, chances are that all you need to do is look around you and you'll find just what you're looking for. Like everywhere else in Brazil, licensing laws regulating who may sell alcoholic drinks - when, where and for how much - are non-existant, at least in practice. There is a fairly strict law regarding selling alcohol to minors, and most establishments make an effort to follow that regulation, but otherwise, there's no one to tell anyone else that they may not sell alcoholic beverages.

It's a world away from the highly-controlled system of selling alcohol that exists in many European and North American countries. In Canada, my home country, laws tell a potential publican or a restaurant owner when sales of alcohol are allowed, how much space each patron needs, what size the drinks must be, and the minimum selling price. They even have laws restricting and controlling the volume of recorded music and whether live music is permitted. This is worlds away from the Brazilian system, best described with a French phrase, laissez-faire.

Jericoacoara is no exception to the Brazilian rule. For example, one of the favorite daily activities in Jericoacoara for tourists and locals alike is to ascend the mountainous sand dune at the edge of town just before sunset and from the top to watch the sun set in the sea. It's a ritual that few tourists to Jeri would dare to omit. Getting to the top of the dune involves a steep climb in soft sand - not an easy feat. But it's no problem for cocktail vendors, who push their wheelbarrows to the top of the dune and offer beer and mixed drinks from a styrofoam tub at very reasonable prices. Watching the orange globe of the sun setting in the Atlantic ocean with a fresh caipirinha at hand is an iconic Jericoacoara activity.

Climbing the dune at sunset

Dune-top "bar"

As darkness settles in, Jeri's main beach becomes a moveable feast, as vendors set up moveable stands selling popcorn, meat kebabs, tapioca and other snacks. Along side the food stands, portable bars are set up offering a massive cocktail menu - mostly involving some mixture of tropical fruit and spirits. Drinks are mixed on site and are served in plastic cups with a straw, so that customers can walk the beach or wander the streets of Jeri with their drink in hand. Convenient, and to our minds, highly civilized.

In Brazil, even with this free-flowing tap of alcohol it's unusual to see really drunk people on the streets, or beaches, or in the bar. Brazilians love to get tipsy, which makes them animated, loud, musical and friendly. They don't really like to carry drinking to the point of belligerance, maudlinity or oblivion. Perhaps it's in those places where alcohol is treated like something dangerour or sinful that people, for whatever reason, like to drink themselves silly. Who knows. But Jeri's open and uncontrolled bars would seem to indicate so - we witnessed not one single person who'd seriously overindulged.

On the Road - Jericoacoara (Pt. 2)

One of the many pleasures of Jericoacoara is sitting at a table under the shade of a coconut palm at one of the town's many beachfront bar/restaurants, eating snacks, drinking ice cold beer, and watching  hundreds of windsurfers and kitesurfers skim the waves in front of you like a swarm of butterflies. Because of its privileged position facing into the prevailing easterly trade winds, which blow constantly, Jeri's beach is a prime destinations for windsurfers and kitesurfers from around the world. The conditions there are almost guaranteed to be perfect and in the cold Northern Hemisphere winter months, surf-starved surfers flock to the coast of Ceará and especially to Jericoacoara.

Last week, during Flavors of Brazil's exploration of Jericoacoara we spent a memorable Saturday afternoon sitting under the palms drinking "stupidly cold" Skol beer (as the Brazilians like to say, and eating an plate of piabinha. The word piabinha is the dimuitive form of the name of a  species of fish known in Brazil as piaba. Although the piaba grows to a significant size, it's liked best by Brazilians when it's still small. During the spawning season, massive schools of piaba can be found all along the Brazilian coast, and they are netted in large quantities (the fishery is still sustainable, however, and the species is not considered threatened).

piabinha

The Brazilian way to serve these tiny fish is whole - heads, tails and all. The best size is between 2 and 3 inches long, which means that each fish is only two or three bites. The piabinha  are cleaned, dipped in a breading of farinha, the ubiquitous manioc flour of Brazil, and quickly deep-fried in hot oil. Served hot from the fryer, a plate of salted, crunchy piabinha, accompanied by a wedge of lime and tartar sauce, crunchy and fresh-tasting without a hint of fishiness, makes just about the best food to combine with cold beer that we can imagine. The crunch, the salt, the acidity of the lime, and the tender piabinha flesh all combine to create the perfect bar snack. Serving them on a beach like Jericoacoara's is just icing on the cake.

On the Road - Jericoacoara (Pt. 1)

bougainvilla at Pousada Papaya

We've talked about Jericoacoara before on Flavors of Brazil, but we've just returned from a long weekend at the idyllic beach resort with the long, long name (official name: Jijoca de Jericoacoara) and thought the an update and review was in order. Previous posts about Jeri (unofficial name) can be found here and here and here.

The last hour's transportation to Jericoacoara

It was a three-day trip getaway Flavors of Brazil's home in Fortaleza, a perfect amount of time for Jeri. Getting to Jericoacoara is a two-step process - first four hours in a normal, comfortable bus on well-maintained roads, followed by an hour in an open bus/truck with zero suspension and with modified transmission and tires to make its away across the dunes and down the beach to Jeri. Once that vehicle arrives in "downtown" Jeri, it's just a short five to ten minute walk along streets made of sand to any of Jeri's hotels and pousadas (inns).

We stayed at an absolutely charming small pousada called Pousada Papaya, run by an ex-carioca (resident of Rio de Janeiro) who has traded the bustle of that metropolis for Jeri's tranquility. The pousada has six or seven rooms on two levels, a beautiful small garden with a small but wonderfully refreshing fresh-water pool and a breezy open verandah where breakfast was served.

Pousada Papaya

Breakfast is invariably included in the price of accommodation in Brazil, whether the accommodation in question is a five-star business hotel, a luxury resort, a simple inn, or even a roadside overnight stop. And although it's not 100% assured, in almost all cases the breakfast will be well-prepared and offer a huge number of choices and options - enough to keep one full all day if one desires. There's coffee and tea of course, and always a choice of fresh fruit juices. Fresh fruit is also available - at minimum something like papaya and pineapple, but often including five or six different tropical fruits. Cereals, granolas and yogurts are on offer as well. Bread options include sandwich-style bread, usually white and wholewheat, and crusty French rolls. Butter and margarine are available for the rolls as well as one or two types of sliced cheeses and cured meats. Hot dishes often include scrambled eggs and a bizarre mixture of chunks of mystery-meat hot dogs in a ketchup and mustard sauce. In fancier hotels there are often egg and tapioca stations where these ingredients are cooked to order. On the sweet pastry side there are always a variety of cakes and tortes - coffee cakes for sure, but also such non-breakfast cakes as chocolate cake or carrot cake. Sometimes cookies can be found too - the only problem is finding the room for a cookie or two at the end of breakfast. All these items are served buffet-style and repeat visits to the buffet are usual.

Pousada Payapa's breakfast buffet was more limited than in some bigger hotels, but that's only because with a small number of rooms, it's impossible to cook or serve huge numbers of options. The food was very fresh, the cakes were inventive and included a savory custard-cake with hearts of palm and raisins that was scrumptions, and the coffee was just the way Brazilians like it - very hot and very strong. As always, there was hot milk available to make cafe au lait, which is the common breakfast coffee drink in Brazil.

For the quality of the accommodation, the friendliness of the staff and the high standards of the breakfast buffet the price of Pousada Papaya was surprisingly reasonable. Including tax and service charge the price was R$115 per day for a double air-conditioned room for two. At current exchange rates that's about USD $64.00.

In upcoming posts, we'll focus on the food and drink scene in Jericoacoara.

Farmed Shrimp Gain "Green Seal" and Organic Certification

Organic farmed shrimp

Farming shrimp is big business in Flavor of Brazil's home state of Ceará, on Brazil's northeast coast, and the industry is growing by leaps and bounds as consumers' appetites for the tasty crustacean outpaces the ability of the sea to provide a sustainable shrimp fishery. The industry dates back only about fifteen to twenty years, but in each recent year its growth has been in double-digit figures.

Unfortunately not all shrimp cultivators consider the environmental impact of their shrimp farm operations, and the local industry has not always enjoyed a good reputation among environmentally-aware consumers. Although it's entirely possible to cultivate shrimp in an environmentally-friendly and sustainable way many local producers either don't know what's required to make their production sustainable, or don't want to spend the extra money to ensure that their facilities don't negatively impact the environment.

Up to now, consumers who want to support those producers who go to the effort and expense to spare the environment haven't had access to information to know which shrimps on display at markets and supermarkets come from sustainable operations. In order to provide this information and to promote the practice of sustainable shrimp cultivation, the Ceará state Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries recently announced a program to market sustainably-raised shrimp with a "Green Seal", a stamp of approval indicating to the consumer that shrimp with a seal meets the environmental criteria of sustainability. The Green Seal was chosen because of the previous success of a similar program involving crab harvesting, where sustainable crab fisheries gained a Green Seal for their product. The crab project was detailed last on Flavors of Brazil and this link will take you to the article.

Shrimp farms on the Costa Negra

The government launched the Green Seal program in November of this year at a presentation and luncheon in the city of Acaraú, located on the part of the Ceará coast called the Costa Negra (the Black Coast), where there are large shrimp-cultivation installations. Those producers who meet the standards set out in the establishing regulations will be entitled to market their shrimp with a Green Seal attached, indicating to consumers that they can buy the product without worrying about the environmental impact of the purchase.

In a further evolution of the consumer market for environmentally-friendly shrimp, one Ceará producer, Nutrimar, has gone one step further and has had their production certified as organic. Nutrimar's shrimps are feed exclusively on marine algae and receive no commercial fish feed, which can have significant levels of agritoxins. Their frozen organic shrimp are marketed both domestically and internationally, and have been recognized and approved by the German-based NGO Naturland, whose standards are among the strictest in the world.

RECIPE - Aunt Angelita's Banana Torte (Torta de Banana de Tia Angelita)

In Flavors of Brazil's recent posts about the small Brazilian beach resort of Jericoacoara, we mentioned that the city started out as a hippie colony on one of the remote beaches of northern Ceará state and that there's still a definitely hippie influence in the town today, even with the arrival of luxury accommodations and upmarket restaurants.

Where there are hippies, anywhere in the world, there are "herbal" treats to be found. Jericoacoara is no exception to this rule. And where these herbs are to be found, so are those who have partaken and are suffering from the infamous "munchies." Again, Jeri is no exception.

Way back when in Jericoacoara's early days, an enterprising local woman, whom everybody knows as Aunt Angelita, starting baking cakes and other treats at home and selling them out her front door or on the streets and beaches of Jeri. Everyone went crazy for her food, particularly for her banana torte (torta de banana) which became famous in the village. Today, she still sells her famous treat, but today she has a small cafe/restaurant in one of the local shopping plazas. And people still line up to get some of her heavenly banana torte - sometimes it's the only thing that will cure the munchies.

Her torte is "easy as pie" to make. Here's a recipe from the website Sabores do Nordeste:

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RECIPE - Aunt Angelita's Banana Torte (Torta de Banana de Tia Angelita)

3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups granulated white sugar
2 whole eggs
3 Tbsp unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1 Tbsp baking powder
6-7 bananas, sliced the long way into thin slices
powdered cinnamon to taste
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Preheat oven to 350F (180C).

In a large mixing bowl combine the flour, sugar, eggs, butter and baking powder and using a hand mixer or wooden spoon beat until you have a smooth batter. It will be ready when it begins to pull away from the sides of the bowl. Reserve, and let stand for 10 minutes before proceeding.

Pour the batter into an ungreased, non-stick 8x10 cake pan.

Carefully cover the surface of the batter with sliced bananas, cutting them when necessary. Sprinkly cinnamon powder over the bananas.

Place in the preheated oven and bake for about 30 minutes. The torte is done when a toothpick inserted in the center of the batter comes out clean. Remove from the oven and let cool in the pan, on a cake rack, until completely cool. Cut into squares and serve.

RECIPE - Skate or Ray Moqueca (Moqueca de Arraia)

One of the dishes that almost everybody who visits Jericoacoara wants to sample is a traditional fish dish called moqueca de arraia. Moquecas are traditional Brazilian fish dishes, whose history goes back to the time before the arrival of Europeans when natives made moquecas out of the bounty of Brazil's seas, rivers, lakes and lagoons. There are as many different recipes for moqueca as there are fish in the sea, but all of them consist of some sort of fish or seafood cooked and served in seasoned coconut milk. There are regional variations and variations in the fish or seafood used, but whatever the variation they're all moquecas and they're all very Brazilian.

Jericoacoara's signature moqueca is made from locally caught skate or ray, which are plentiful in local waters and which exist in both fresh-water and salt-water varieties. To make a moqueca the cartiligenous "wings" of the ray are pre-cooked by boiling and the meat is separated from the cartilege and shredded before being added to the recipe. Unlike the more famous African-influenced moquecas of Bahia, there is no palm oil (dendê oil) used and the shredded fish is served with only a little liquid. Traditional accompaniments to moqueca de arraia in Jericoacoara are white rice and pirão.
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RECIPE - Skate or Ray Moqueca (Moqueca de Arraia)
Serves 4

1 lb (500 gr) cooked and shredded skate or ray
1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 green or red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
2 tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped
3/4 cup (200 ml) coconut milk
1 Tbsp annatto powder (sweet paprika can be substituted)
chopped green onion, green parts only, to taste
chopped cilantro, to taste
salt and pepper to taste
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In a large, non-stick frying pan heat the olive oil, then add the onion and garlic and fry for a few minutes, or until the onion is transparent but not browned. Then add the chopped bell pepper and tomato, plus the annatto or paprkia and continue to saute, until the tomato begins to break up. Add the shredded fish and the coconut milk, stirr well to blend completely and continue to cook until the fish is heated through - do not let the mixture boil. Season with salt and pepper and remove from heat.

Place in a deep serving bowl and sprinkle with the chopped green onion and cilantro. Serve immediately.

Recipe translated and adapted from Brasil Sabor.

Jericoacoara - A Step Back in Time

The small beachfront town of Jericoacoara (or Jeri as it's most commonly known) is located on the north coast of Ceará, about 200 miles (290 km) from Fortaleza. It's not that far as the crow flies, but even by car or express-bus the trip from the capital to Jeri takes a good part of the day. Why? The reason is that the road to Jeri ends about 12 miles (20 km) from Jeri itself in a place called Jijoca. From there to Jeri you can only  travel by dune buggy or by specially modified open-air minibus - from Jijoca to Jeri the road is nothing more than a path in the sand, first on the dunes, then along the beach. Jeri is not accessible by paved road, nor even gravel road. To travel the 12 miles across the sand to Jeri takes well over an hour.

And when you arrive there, the streets of Jeri are not paved, nor even gravelled either. They're sand as well  - the entire village of Jeri perches on the beach. High heels will do you no good here - to walk on the sand streets of Jeri you need tennis shoes, flipflops, or nothing (barefoot works very well). Jeri is casual and laid-back, at times seeming to be in a time-warp. In Jeri it can still seem like the 60s - the hippies that founded the village are still there in force, it's just that they're now third-generation hippies.

Jericoacoara is in an area of environmental protection, and a road to it will hopefully never be built. It's the village's isolation and beauty that draw the tourists that drive the local economy. Jeri is so isolated that it didn't have electricity until 1989, and even today there are no streetlights at night - just the lanterns and lamps of small shops, bars, restaurants and inns to brighten the darkness a bit.

Today Jeri has sophisticated boutique hotels and gourmet restaurants, but it hasn't lost its hippie past - most of the accommodation in the village is in small inns and pousadas, and most of the restaurants serve basic local fare, with emphasis on seafood. At night, many of the bars have live music and all serve cheap and potent cocktails, most of them based on cachaça and local fruit juices. Local "herbal" intoxicants remain popular too - another vestige of Jeri's hippie era.

Because of its location on the northernmost stretches of Ceará coastline, Jeri is one of the very few places in Brazil where it's possible to see the sun set into the sea. A popular ritual, for locals and visitors alike is to climb the 200 foot high sand dune that dominates the village at about 5 pm and watch the sun set in the sea from the dune's windy heights.

Jericoacoara is a popular weekend get-away for residents of Fortaleza, but because of the travel time involved isn't really worth visiting unless you can afford to spend at least two nights there - any shorter amount of time and you'll spend more time traveling to and from Jeri than you will relaxing and enjoying it.

Our next few posts on Flavors of Brazil will feature a couple of local signature dishes from Jericoacoara. A taste of Jeri, as it were.