Samuel Adams Not-Entirely-Bostonian Utopias Beer

Utopias

Since 2002 American craft brewer Samuel Adams has been making very limited quantities of possibly the world's strongest and most expensive beer. It's even referred to in company literature and advertising as a brand of "extreme beer" and extreme it is in all sorts of ways. Each year's tiny batch (around 8000 bottles) is slightly different from the last in ABV (alcohol by volume) percentage, varying a percentage point or two from the average 25%. Most lager beer, by contrast, is a mere 4%, making Utopias about five times stronger than garden variety beer. The beer itself is also very unusual - uncarbonated, and aged for years in a variety of different wood barrels, each of which adds to its complex taste and aroma.

A bottle of Utopias beer is a serious investment. The suggested retail price for the 2011 release is USD $150.00 (It's also slightly stronger than normal at 27% ABV). Each 700 ml bottle in which Utopias is sold is numbered and is made from lustre-glazed ceramic. The shape of the bottle resembles that of a brewing kettle.

Rio Negrinho's German-style railway station

And it's this unique bottle, with its unusual shape and it's beautiful lustre glaze containing 3% pure gold that gives this very-American beer its Brazilian connection. To house their expensive nectar Boston Brewing Co. (the parent company of Samuel Adams) chose a bottle made by a very small artisan ceramic mug and bottle factory located in southern Brazil. The Utopia bottle is manufactured by a company called Ceramarte, in the tiny town of Rio Negrinho in Santa Catarina state. The interior of Santa Catarina, where Rio Negrinho is located, was settled in the 19th and early 20th centuries by immigrants from Germany, and Ceramarte has been making German-style beer steins and mugs for close to a hundred years. They still make beautiful traditional style steins, and their older steins are highly collectible items on Mercado Livre, Brazil's equivalent to eBay. But the beautiful bottle they've produced for Samuel Adams, completely contemporary in flavor, shows that they can do more than just produce old-fashioned, heavy beer steins. And apparently someone at Samuel Adams knew that, and trusted Ceramarte with the container of their most precious product. How the brewery from Boston even came to know of Ceramarte's existence we don't know, but it's probably a fascinating story.

RECIPE - Goat Brewmaster-style (Cabrito cervejeiro)

This recipe for kid (young goat) marinaded in beer comes to Flavors of Brazil from the Brazilian food and wine magazine Prazeres da Mesa. It was created by São Paulo chef Rodrigo Martins, who works at that city's Vino! restaurant.

The recipe calls for cubed goat stew meat, but if goat meat is unavailable in your area, or you'd prefer not to eat it, you can very easily substitute lamb. The flavors are very similar, and generally recipes featuring either lamb or goat can successfully be swapped between the two types of meat.

As the recipe indicates below, you'll need to start a day ahead of time. In order for the beer marinade to do its job of tenderizing and flavoring the meat, it requires a full 24 hours. It's best not to try to shorten the marinading time.
_________________________________________________

RECIPE - Goat Brewmaster-style (Cabrito cervejeiro)
Serves 4

2 lb (1 kg) cubed goat stew meat
1 small onion, chopped
2 shallots, chopped
1 medium carrot, chopped
2 oz (50 gr) pancetta, cubed
1/4 cup finely chopped Italian parsley
extra-virgin olive oil
6 button mushrooms, quartered
1 peeled whole clove garlic
1 small jalapeno or serrano chili, seeded and chopped (optional)
2 bottles or cans good-quality dark beer, cold
2 bay leaves
1 sprig fresh thyme
1/4 cup finely chopped cilantro
1/4 cup finely chopped green onion, green part only
--------------------------------------------------------------------
In a large mixing bowl combine the beer, carrot, onion, parsley chilis, bay leaves and thyme. Add the cubed meat, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 24 hours, stirring the meat once or twice during that time.

When ready to cook, drain off about half of the marinading liquid into a heavy saucepan. Add the garlic clove and the pancetta cubes, bring to a boil, reduce heat, partially cover the pan and simmer for two hours or until reduced by half. Reserve.

Heat the olive oil in a saute pan, add the cubed meat and fry until nicely browned on all sides. Fry in batches if necessary. When all the meat is browned, add the reduced marinading liquid, the chopped shallots and the mushrooms.  Bring the liquid to a simmer and cook the meat for about half an hour, or until it is very tender and the sauce is thickened.

Pour the meat and sauce into a decorative serving bowl. Sprinkle with the shopped cilantro and green onion and serve immediately.

Remove the meat from the remaining marinading liquid with a slotted spoon. Accompany with boiled potatoes or white rice.

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.

The Critics' Take on Devassa Beer

The recent entry of Devassa beers into the national marketplace in Brazil means that many more Brazilians will be exposed to them and develop their own opinions about the quality of the beer. The very clever ad campaigns of Devassa's owners, Schincariol Breweries, has raised the profile of the beer but clever advertising can only go so far - if the beer isn't good people won't continue to buy it.

Like everywhere else in the world, Brazil is full of both profession and amateur beer critics. The professionals write for food and wine magazines and publish in newspapers, the amateurs post their opinions in blogs and on Internet forums and social network groups. What do these critics have to say about Devassa.

One of the most well-respected beer critics in Brazil is Roberto Fonseca, who writes for the Estado de S. Paulo newspaper and who publishes a blog called "Blog do Bob" on the Estado's website. He was an early fan of the original microbrewed line of beers from Devassa, but is less keen on their national brand Bem Loura. He notes that Bem Loura falls into the category that he calls "tropical lager" - those lagers that are made especially light for warm-weather markets and which supposedly go down better in the heat of the topics. The best known example of this style is Mexico's Corona. He goes on to say that although Devassa Bem Loura doesn't have the disagreeable odor and taste of other industrially-brewed Brazilian lagers, it is so lightly malted and hopped that it loses any hope of distinctive character and blends in seamlessly the other popular Brazilian brands - it's fatal fault is that it doesn't stand out. He rates it at 2.5 out of 4.

It seems that bloggers agree with Sr. Fonseca for the most part. The original brands from the days of the microbrewery rate higher than does Bem Loura. This blogger from Brasilia notes the high quality of the ingredients used - only European hops, for example. He likes the body of the pale ale and the body of the dark ale, noting that the latter doesn't come at the cost of feeling heavy. Another blogger especially appreciates Devassa draft beer and compares it favorably to Brahma Chopp, the market leader in this segment.

It remains to be seen whether Devassa Bem Loura will have long term success in the Brazilian beer market - one of the largest in the world and dominated by brands of the world largest beer consortium AmBev. A $60 million ad campaign (the rumored cost of the campaign to launch Bem Loura) will make a lot of people eager to sample a new "hot" product. But only quality will bring them back for more.

The Trendiest Beer in Brazil - It's "Salacious" Devassa

Wanton, dissolute, lecherous, salacious, libertine, immoral, slutty, loose and bawdy - these are just some of the translations the dictionary suggests for the Portuguese-language adjective devasso (devassa when modifying a feminine noun). The list isn't complete according to most complete dictionary, but it's enough to for you to get the picture. Calling someone devasso/devassa ascribes a high-living, low-moral, totally-untrustworthy character to that person.Usually not a compliment.

So would you think that Devassa might be a good way to describe a beer? "That beer was totally lecherous, wasn't it?" or "You gotta try this one, it's loose and bawdy." Well, it appears that in Brazil at least it's an excellent way to describe a beer, since a relatively new family of beers called Devassa has taken the Brazilian market by storm, thanks in part to an extremely clever marketing campaign that plays on all the aspects of the word devassa.

Devassa was originally a small microbrewery, founded in 2001 by a small group of beer enthusiasts, located in the run-down port area of Rio de Janeiro. Its production capability was limited, and its distribution restricted to Rio and a few specialty bars in São Paulo. It sold very well in the areas it was available, and gained a reputation among fans of good beer nationwide in Brazil, mostly due to word-of-mouth.

In 2007 the entrepreneurs who founded Devassa sold the brand to large Brazilian brewery Schincariol, who had the productive capacity and national distribution network to take the brand nationwide. The original Devassa had consisted of three beers, all available only on draft or in long-neck 12 oz bottles. These three beers were called Loura, Ruiva, and Negra (meaning Blonde, Redhead, and Blackhaired) and the names referenced styles of beer - one light lager (the blonde, naturally), one pale ale (the redhead), and one dark ale (the black-haired beauty). Schincariol added one new beer to the family, Bem Loura (really Blonde) a typical Brazilian light lager, available in 12 oz. cans and 600 ml bottles and sold at a lower price point than the three original brews.

Besides the brewing capacity and distribution network one additinal thing that Schincariol brought to Devassa was the financial capability to launch a huge national advertising campaign for Devassa. One that was edgy, youthful and which pushed the leading edge of 21st century marketing techniques. Their first national campaign featured American famous-cuz-she's famous Paris Hilton. In the TV commercial that Ms Hilton did for Devassa she is shown through the windows of a beachfront apartment in Rio, opening a refrigerator, pulling out an ice-cold can of Bem Loura and rubbing it all over her presumably-wanton body, all the while being photographed by a neighbor across the street and ogled by passersby and beachgoers. There was no nudity in the commercial, no faked-orgasm on the part of Paris, but the sight of a frosty Devassa being rubbed on Paris' thighs and in her cleavage was enough to send CONAR, an industry self-regulation body of advertising standards, into a snit-fit. They blocked the ad, forbidding it to be televised. According to a spokeswoman for CONAR this was because the ad "depreciates the female body and demoralizes blonde women." Here's the ad, from YouTube:



The censoring of the Devassa campaign was manna from heaven for Schincariol. The withdrawal of the ad was a topic on national TV news programs, covered in newspapers and magazines, and of course the whole thing went viral on the Internet. As they say, "You can't pay for publicity like that." Schincariol cleverly retooled the campaign (without the continued presence of Paris Hilton) but with beautiful blondes and cans of Devassa alike displaying black bands of censorship across "sensitive areas."

Coming as it did just at the time Devassa went national, the whole scandal created a tremendous product awareness for the beer, which was unknown in most of Brazil up to that time. The demand for Devassa shot up dramatically and when the beer went national it sold out almost everywhere, even at premium prices. Ordering a Bem Loura became a sign of hipness - you know, "I'll have a really blonde one, please." A continued marketing campaign playing on the connotations of the word devassa kept the brand in the public's mind. In the end, the launch of Devassa was the most successful launch of a new brand of beer in Brazilian history. Thanks to it's clever name, thanks to Paris Hilton feeling a tad hottish in the heat of a  Rio summer, and especially thanks to the crowd of buffoons at CONAR.

Besides being trendy and hip, is Devassa any good, though? We'll see what Brazilian beer critics say shortly here at Flavors of Brazil.

Fifty Years Waiting Tables and Still At It

Seu Luiz

If Luiz de Oliveira isn't the world's oldest practicing waiter he's surely close to being so, as we can't imagine there are many other men who still wait tables at the age of 90. Sr. Oliveira, or Seu Luiz as he's known to the legions of his faithful customers, still works at Bar Leo, a very traditional bar in downtown São Paulo, something he has done for more than 50 years. These days he works Mondays to Thursdays from 2 pm to "when I'm tired", as he puts it.

According to Seu Luiz (as told to the Folha de S. Paulo newspaper recently) the two most important achievements in his life are having been a waiter at Bar Leo for 50 years and a Palmeirista (a supporter of São Paulo football/soccer team Palmeiras) for 90.

During his long career at the bar seu Luiz estimates that he has served at least half a million glasses of draft beer (chope). His faithful customers are numberless, but among them are some very famous people - in the 1960s, Che Guevara, who loved the bar's potato salad, and in the 50s Jânio Quadros, who would go on to be President of Brazil.

Seu Luiz is famed as a friendly, competent and fast waiter, but he does have his standards, which he will not bend for any customer. He will not serve a beer without a three-finger foamy head, and he won't serve canapes without mustard. Don't even bother asking - seu Luiz's usual response to customers who ask for a draft without a head is, "Draft with a head is the way it's served here. If you don't want it that way, no problem though. There's a bakery across the street that serves draft without a head."

A few weeks ago customers, present-day and former staff, and many members of the press gathered at Bar Leo to celebrate seu Luiz's illustrious career. Although he refuses to give interviews, he did answer a few questions at the celebration:

When were you born? 1921

Where? The city of São Paulo

Being a waiter is?  A calling

Your passion is?  Palmeiras

Draft beer without a head is?  Not draft beer

Women? I'm a bachelor, but I don't fault for women, ok?

Your dream? To live another 90 years

Let's all hope his dream comes true. He's an inspiration to us all.

Just How Cold Do Brazilians Like Their Beer?

It's been mentioned several times on Flavors of Brazil that Brazilians generally like their beer to be served cold - extremely cold. When asking for a beer, most will tell the waiter that they want the beer to be bem gelada (well chilled), geladinha (quite cold), or even estupidamente gelada (stupidly cold). The Brazilian gold standard in a beer is a medium-light lager served at the coldest possible temperature. But what IS the coldest possible temperature for beer, and how close to Brazilians come to achieving that standard?

This question came to mind to me last night when I was visiting a neighborhood bar here in Fortaleza with a bunch of friends. It's common in Brazilian bars to see large refrigerators behind the bar used only for storing bottles of beer, and most of these refrigerators are branded by one or another of the Brazilian breweries, most often one of the brands of beer giant AmBev which controls the largest market share in Brazil for beer. (The photo at right shows a refrigerator advertising Antartica beer, one of AmBev's products.I'm not certain, but I'm guessing that the bars receive these fridges free from the breweries in exchange for selling that brewery's brand in the bar. These fridges normally have a digital thermometer prominently displayed near the top of the door. This allows the bartender or waiter (and discerning customers) to monitor the temperature inside the fridge.

Beer freezes at a lower temperature than water, due to the presence of alcohol in the brew. Pure alcohol has an extremely low freezing temperature: -114C or -173F. But beer of course is only 4 or 5% alcohol, and the rest is water, which freezes at 0C or 32F. The fact that beer is carbonated and bottled under pressure also lowers the freezing temperature.

So last night, while chatting and snacking with my party, I began to watch the temperature changes for one particular fridge. When the door hadn't been opened in a while, the temperature hovered around -7.5C or -8C. That's cold! In Fahrenheit it would be between 17 and 18F. Every time the door was opened for someone to grab a bottle of beer, the internal temperature would rise to -5C or so, then settle back down to -8C. My curiosity was spiked, so this morning I did some elementary research on the internet. It appears that the freezing temperature of most beers is around -8.5C or 16.5F. The beer in that fridge last night, when first removed from the fridge, were very close, therefore, to the coldest possible beer. No wonder it tasted so good - particularly as we were outside in the tropical night, and the air temperature at midnight was about 28C or 82F. That means there were 36C or nearly 100F degrees of difference between a freshly poured beer in that bar and the ambient temperature!

There is one undesired side-effect of this Brazilian passion for ice-cold beer and bars attempts to please their customers. From time to time the fridges get too cold and the beer reaches a temperature at which it is still liquid in the unopened bottle, which is pressurized, but at which the beer freezes instantly when the bottle is opened and the pressure is released. It's happened to me several times - a bottle of beer arrives at the table looking nice and frosty. The waiter opens the bottle and then tips it to pour out the first round into our glasses, but nothing comes out. The beer is a solid chunk of beer-popsicle inside the bottle. At that point nothing can be done, as thawed beer loses all of its charm and carbonization. Waiters are generally good-natured about it when it happens though, and soon return with a beer that's only slightly less estupidamente gelada.

On the Road - Rio de Janeiro (Pt. 6) - The Botecos of Rio

The hole-in-the-wall-push-out-onto-the-sidewalk type bar known as a boteco, botequim or butequim is to Rio de Janeiro what the neighborhood tavern is to Milwaukee, WI or Boston, MA, or what the local pub is to denizens of small towns and villages throughout the UK and Ireland. It's an institution, and anyone who wants to mess with the formula had better be careful, because it's a beloved institution. Cariocas (residents of Rio) are fiercely loyal to the idea of the boteco in general, and to their own particular boteco in particular.

Botecos can be found in all corners of this sprawling city, from tony Lebon and Ipanema, to the tourist haunt of Copacabana, and right through to the middle-class suburbs in the northern zone of the city. Even the hillside slums known as favelas have botecos.

The standard boteco is a small space open to the sidewalk, with a small stand-up bar, a cashier's cage, a display case for pre-cooked snacks, plenty of refrigerators for icy-cold beer, a minimal kitchen and a rudimentary bathroom. On the sidewalk in front are any number of plastic tables and plastic chairs, all sponsored by one or another of Brazil's major breweries and sporting the brewery's colors. There's often barely enough room to stand inside the boteco itself, so the majority of patrons stand outside or sit at one of the sidewalk tables. During the day, when stores and shops are open, the tables might be restricted to the space directly in front of the boteco, but as soon as retail stores close, the number of tables blossoms, and the sidewalk for half-a-block or more can be taken up with patrons sitting, chatting, drinking and snacking.

All botecos sell beer, and a they sell a lot of it. They all also serve soft drinks and bottled water, but in minimal quantities. It seems that mixed drinks are almost unheard of. Beer is normally sold in 600 ml (20 oz) bottles, and served in thermal coolers to be poured into small glasses. This avoids the problem of warm beer, which Brazilians universally detest and which is the inevitable result of a too-large glass.

Botecos sell snacks and sandwiches too - packaged snacks like potato chips and nuts, savory pastries and pies almost everywhere, and "blue-plate special" meals at some botecos during meal times. The quality of these snacks and meals varies greatly and customer loyalty often depends on the quality of the food - after all, as long as it's served properly cold, a bottle of Brahma or Antartica beer is not going to vary from boteco to boteco.

These bars are extremely social places, and also extremely casual. In the frequently hot climate of Rio, it's not at all unusual to see a bunch of guys standing at the bar in a boteco dressed only in flip-flops and skin-tight Speedo-style bathing suits. (And it's not only the young and well-built who adopt this style of dress). I sometimes wonder where they keep their money and keys! Everyone seems to know everyone in a boteco, and a stranger is likely to be questioned, in a friendly manner, about where he or she is from and what he or she thinks of Rio and this boteco. In short order a newcomer can become a regular - it happens here almost as fast as it does in Ireland, but not quite.

The original-style botecos, of which many remain, have recently been joined by more up-market cousins. In the newer, more stylish botecos, there will be space to sit at a table inside, the decor will be cleaner and more tasteful, and there is likely to be waitstaff. The menu will be more varied, and the quality of the food is higher, as are the prices, of course. (The whole concept of these new botecos is a bit like the British gastropub.) To distinguish between the two styles, cariocas have begun to use the terms pé-sujo and pé-limpo. Translated these mean "dirty feet" and "clean feet". The original style, naturally, is the "dirty-feet" boteco, and they newer style, where patrons are expected to have at the very minimum washed their feet before entering, is the "clean-feet" boteco.

To travel to Rio and not spend some time getting to know the boteco culture would be a shame. Probably even a crime. In the sections of the city that tourists are likely to visit, botecos are very safe, if a bit rowdy at times, and the most worrying thing might be the unwanted attention of the local drunkard. Take it all with a smile, a word or two of Portuguese, and soon you'll be everybody's new best friend. And when they tell you that they mean it.

RECIPE - Beef in Beer with Pine Nuts (Carne ao Molho de Cerveja com Pinhão)

This informal beef stew comes from the state of Paraná in southern Brazil, and demonstrates its southern origin by the inclusion of pine nuts (pinhões) which are cultivated in that state, and by the use of beer as a cooking liquid. In the more tropical regions of Brazil, further north, neither beer or wine are used in stews and casseroles, but in southern Brazil, which has a rich tradition of European immigration, both of these alcoholic liquids are common in such dishes. Paraná is home to significant communities of descendants of German, Ukrainian, and Polish settlers, and beer of part of the culinary pantry of the state.

The recipe calls for Brazilian pine nuts, which come from a different family of pines than do the pine nuts commonly available in Europe and North America. Although there will be a slight difference in taste, normal pine nuts may be used in this recipe with great success.

_________________________________________________
RECIPE - Beef in Beer with Pine Nuts (Carne ao Molho de Cerveja com Pinhão)
Serves 4

2 medium onions, quartered
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
3 Tbsp. neutral vegetable oil
2 lb (1 kg) chuck steak (acem), cut into 2" (4 cm) cubes
2 tsp. annatto powder (can substitute sweet paprika)
1 Tbsp. Dijon-style mustard
3 bay leaves
2 tsp. dried oregano
6 oz. pilsner or lager beer
1 cup (250 ml) water
salt to taste
1 Tbsp. corn starch
1/4 cup (50 ml) water
1/2 lb (250 gr) pine nuts
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Put the onion, garlic and vegetable oil in a blender or food processor and blend completely. Heat a heavy saucepan with cover over medium-high heat, add the blended onion and garlic and cook, stirring constantly just until it begins to brown. Add the chunks of beef, and continue cooking until the meat is browned on all sides.

Add the annatto or paprika, mustard, bay leaves, oregano, the beer and 1 cup of water to the browned meat, plus salt to taste. Bring to a boil, cover the pan, reduce heat and simmer until the meat is tender, about 45 minutes to 1 hour. Add additional water if needed to prevent drying out.

Dilute the corn starch in 1/2 cup cold water. Uncover pan, add the corn starch and pine nuts. Continue to simmer with the pan uncovered for about 10 minutes or until the liquid thickens and the pine nuts are heated through.

Serve immediately with potatoes or noodles.

Recipe translated and adapted from Cozinha Regional Brasileira by Abril Editora

RECIPE - Bolinhos de Bacalhau (Salt Cod Balls)

These small snacks made from bacalhau (salt cod) are a favorite in bars and at the beach everywhere in Brazil, and are not specifically considered as something associated with Easter. They are eaten all year round, usually washed down with ice-cold Brazilian beer. Although I never deep-fry anything at home because of the smell of fried food, and try not to eat too much that has been deep-fried even in restaurants due to health concerns, I do have a real weak spot for these treats. When they're on offer, they are very difficult to resist.

As I don't deep-fry at home, I haven't made this recipe myself. I include it for interest, and in case anyone would like to make these bolinhos (in English: little balls) at home.

Bom apetite!
______________________________________________________
RECIPE - Bolinhos de Bacalhau (Salt-Cod Balls)
Makes 10

2.5 lbs. (1 kg.) bacalhau, desalted and de-skinned - click here for technique
2.5 lbs. (1 kg.) red-skinned potatoes
2 bay leaves
2 Tbsp. Extra-virgin olive oil
3 Tbsp. finely chopped garlic
3 Tbsp. Italian parsley, finely chopped
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
Neutral vegetable oil for frying
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Place the salt cod in heavy saucepan with cold fresh water to cover, bring to a boil over medium heat, and boil gently until tender. Drain, let cool, and reserve.

Meanwhile, place the potatoes in oven-proof pan or dish, and roast in pre-heated 425F degree (220C) oven for one hour. Remove from oven, let cool slightly, peel, and then mash them. Let cool completely then reserve.

Using your hands, flake the bacalhau into very small pieces, making sure to remove all bones. Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a heavy-duty frying pan, then add the bacalhau, the bay leaves and the garlic and fry until the mixture is lightly browned, and dry. Discard the bay leaves, let cool, and reserve.

When ready to serve, heat the vegetable oil in deep-fryer or deep pan, taking care not to burn or heat too high. Mix the bacalhau, the mashed potatoes and the chopped parsley, being sure to create a homogenous mixture. Add black pepper to taste.

Form the mixture into balls of approximately 1 inch (2.5 cm) diameter, using well-oiled hands to avoid sticking. Fry in the hot oil until nicely browned on all sides. Remove from oil, drain on paper towels, and serve immediately, garnished with wedges of fresh limes.

Recipe translated and adapted from Cozinha Regional Brasileira from Abril Editora.

Chope - Brazilian-style beer

One of the many components that contribute to a distinctive national or regional culture is the prevalence of a particular alcoholic beverage. For example, Italy or Spain are places where the most typical and traditional alcoholic drink is wine. In Germany and the Czech Republic, beer holds the pride of place as the most traditional drink, while in Russia it would have to be considered vodka.

Although Brazil produces a small quantity of decent domestic wine and foreign wines are available, beer (cerveja in Portuguese) is overwhelmingly the most popular alcoholic beverage. Wherever Brazilians gather, in homes, in restaurants, on the street or at the beach, beer is inevitably available. With no licensing laws (and a relaxed minimum age of 18) beer can be bought at supermarkets, bakeries, gas stations, or from the syrofoam box of a curbside seller.

Brazilians predominantly drink light lager beer, and prefer it VERY well chilled. It's often served at temperatures slightly below the freezing point, although with its alcohol content the beer will not be frozen. It's probably due to the tropical climate, but cold beer is a universal rule. Brazilians gag when they hear talk of British ales being served at cellar temperature.

Beer at home, at the beach, or on the street during carnaval is sold in 355 ml. cans, in 350 ml. "long-neck" bottles, and in 600 ml. bottles. But the Brazilian beer tradition is not limited to such packaging. In many regions of Brazil (but not all) the most highly-regarded beer is draft, poured directly from the tap. In Portuguese, draft beer is called "chope", which is pronounced like SHOW-pea, with the accent on the first syllable. Sometimes it's spelled as "chopp" but the pronunciation is the same. It is widely available in street-corner bars, in restaurants, and in chopperias, which are large establishments similar to a brew-pub and which specialize in chope, snack foods, conversation and music.

Brazilian chope is normally served in rather small glasses, due to the hot climate. A large mug or stein of chope would likely become warm before it is finished, thus it's better to have several small glasses of chope  rather than one large one. A well-poured chope of the Brazilian style has a large, creamy head, with three "fingers" of foam being considered the optimum, and a chopp without such a head might be refused by bar patrons. For the uninitiated, this head might be considered something of a rip-off, but in fact it serves a purpose. The foam acts as a thermal insulator, and protects the cold chope from becoming warm too quickly.

Chope is made by all the large multinational Brazilian breweries such as Brahma, Antartica and Skol. The small, local brewing industry is just starting in Brazil, and is probably at the stage that such breweries in North America were about ten to fifteen years ago, although every year the number of these small enterprises is growing.

It's well worth trying chope when in Brazil, and it's easy to order. If you ask for "cerveja" that means that you want bottled beer, "chope" will get you draft beer. All you need to say is "chope, por favor" and hold up one, two or three fingers depending on how many you want. They will arrive very quickly, very cold, and ready for the drinking. Saúde!  (That's "cheers" in Portuguese, and it's pronounced saw-OO-gee).