On the Road - Salvador - Pt. 3 - The FIFA/McDonald's Scandal

It's hard to overstate the cultural value of the humble acarajé to the citizens of the Brazilian state of Bahia. This unprepossessing, fist-sized black-eyed-pea fritter has become the icon of Salvador in much the same way that the Eiffel Tower represents Paris, or Guiness represents Ireland. When tourists and returning locals exit the Salvador airport terminal on the arrivals level, they are immediately greeted by the unmistakable aroma of acarajé frying in a pot of dendê oil - the sidewalk in front of the terminal is home to several stands of baianas selling acarajé. That haunting aroma, the marvelous taste of the fritter and the traditional and ritualistic way in which it is sold are cultural touchstones of Salvador, and have been recognized by all levels of Brazilian government as important cultural patrimony worthy of protection.

So what does acarajé have to do with FIFA, McDonald's and the scandal referred to in the title of this post? As the governing organization for the 2014 World Cup of Football/Soccer, which will be held in Brazil, FIFA has control over many aspects of the Cup. Things like stadium capacity and required facilities, transportion of players and sponsorship of the Cup. Because the McDonald's corporation is one of the largest corporate sponsors of the World Cup, FIFA wants to prohibit the sale of acarajé within 2 km (1.2 miles) of Salvador's Fonte Nova stadium during the World Cup, in order to protect the interests (and hamburger sales) of McDonald's.

Could this....

become this???

This potential disruption of acarajé sales has created an uproar in Salvador. Rita Maria Ventura dos Santos, the president of Associação das Baianas de Acarajé e Vendedoras de Mingau (Abam), the official association of acarajé vendors, calls prohibiting sales of acarajé "absurd." She notes that at present there are eight acarajé stands within 2 km. of the stadium, and wonders what will happen to the women who own these stands when the Cup comes around. Community groups in Salvador are calling for a boycott of McDonald's to protest the move, and news of the prohibition and the boycott is spreading rapidly across all the Internet social networks.

The FIFA/McDonald's prohibition has not been confirmed yet by the Brazilian organizing committee or by Salvador's municipal authorities. The Bahia state Secretary in charge of World Cup arrangements has been quoted as saying no decision has yet been made, but will only confirm that the role of baianas and of acarajé in the World Cup is "under consideration."

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).

RECIPE - Brazilian Mussel Chowder (Caldo de Sururu)

One of the pleasures of the northeastern Brazilian beach (and there are many) is the sight of a vendor making his or her way along the strand carrying one or two termos bottles, a supply of plastic cups, and perhaps some small containers with hot chili sauce, chopped green onions or chopped cilantro. When you spot one of these coming your way, you know that you're going to be offered a cup of hot soup (caldo in Portuguese). And you know you'll accept. The only question is what kind.

Soup doesn't seem like something you'd want to eat on a topical beach under the blazing sun, but take it on faith, it is. It nourishes without filling, satisfies like a meal does, yet leaves you with room to enjoy a cold beer, caipirinha or soft drink. Surprisingly, it doesn't seem to make you feel any hotter either.

The standard offerings for on-the-beach soups are bean, fish and sururu. If you have read yesterday's post on this blog, you'll know that the sururu is a tiny mussel native to northeast Brazil. It's locally believed to be an aphrodisiac  as well. So if you aren't sure you want your sexual desire to be enhanced, which is after all what aphrodisiacs do, then choose bean or fish. But if the company and the mood are suitable, give sururu a try. At worst, you'll most likely have a delicious cup of soup, at best, one with a spectacular added bonus.

The sururu mussel in found only in tropical waters, primarily in Brazil, but if you want to make this soup at home, you can use any variety of mussel available. Be warned though - there may be no aphrodisiac effect! The recipe also calls for the tropical palm oil known as dendê. There is no acceptable substitute for dendê but you may leave it out entirely if you wish as it's more of a garnish than an ingredient. Outside Brazil dendê can often be found in Latin American or Brazilian grocery stores, or in African grocery stores, where it's called palm oil.
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RECIPE - Brazilian Mussel Chowder (Caldo de Sururu)
Serves 10

1 lb. thoroughly washed mussels, meat only, no shells
2 tomatoes, peeled and seeded
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, smashed
4 cups (1l) water
salt and black pepper to taste
3/4 cup cooked, mashed manioc or potatoes
1/4 cup finely chopped cilantro
 dendê oil to drizzle
lime wedges
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Put the tomatoes, chopped onion and garlic in a blender and liquidize thoroughly. Pour into a large saucepan and cook for 3-4 minutes over medium-high heat.

When the liquid is just at the boiling point, add the mussels, the mashed potatoes or manioc and half the water. Cook for 2 or 3 minutes only, or until the mussels are just firm. Add additional water if needed to reach a rich but pourable soup consistency. Bring just to a boil, then remove from the heat. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Pour into small bowls, cups or drinking glasses. Sprinkle chopped cilantro on top and drizzle a bit of dendê oil over, if desired. Serve immediately accompanied by wedges of fresh lime.

RECIPE - Bahian Farofa with Dendê (Farofa de Dendê)

All Brazilian farofas combine manioc flour (farinha) with some sort of fat or oil to moisten and flavor the dry, lightly-flavored flour. The fat can be melted butter or lard, it can be rendered bacon fat, or it can be a liquid oil like olive oil or neutral vegetable oil.

In the northeastern Brazilian state of Bahia, where the local style of cooking evidences a strong African influence - a heritage of the history of slavery in Brazil - the oil typically used in making farofa is the shockingly-orange, highly-flavored palm oil called dendê, which came from West Africa with the very first slaves bound for Brazil's gold mines and sugar plantations.

This recipe from Bahia also adds another typically West African flavor to the manioc and dendê mixture - dried shrimps. With a strong flavor of the sea, the small, dried crustaceans are finely chopped or ground into a flour to add one more of Bahia's essential flavors to this dish.

Bahian dendê farofa, along with white rice, is the perfect accompaniment for any of Bahia's marvelous moquecas - fish or seafood stews, redolent of coconut milk, cilantro and dendê.

There is no adequate substitute for any of the main ingredients in this dish, though manioc flour (farinha), dendê and dried shrimps can often be found in Latin American and African markets in cities which have immigrant communities, and dried shrimps can also be found in most Asian markets.
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RECIPE - Bahian Farofa with Dendê (Farofa de Dendê)
Serves 6

1/2 cup (125 ml) dendê oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
4 oz. (100 gr) dried shrimp
2 1/2 cups dried manioc flour (farinha)
salt to taste
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Finely mince the dried shrimp with a large knife or cleaver, or, alternatively, grind them in a spice grinder.

Heat the dendê in a large frying pan, the add the chopped onion and cook until the onions are soft and golden. Add the minced or ground shrimp and stir well to combine. Add the manioc flour in a steady stream, stirring all the while to moisten all the flour. When the farofa is dry and the grains are separated, season with salt, then continue to toast the farofa for a minute or two, stirring constantly.

Serve immediately as part of a Bahian-style meal.

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

Farofa - The Universal Accompaniment

Photo courtesy Come-Se

When Brazilians eat grilled or roasted meat or fish, the side dishes are plain white rice, beans and a golden-colored mixture with a sandy texture called farofa. Eating churrasco, the Brazilian-style mixed grill cooked over charcoal without a dish of farofa to accompany it is considered culinary heresy.

There are infinite variations and thousands of recipes for farofa, but at its most basic farofa is a mixture of dry manioc flour toasted in some sort of fat to flavor and moisten it. The fat can be butter, it can be bacon fat and in Bahia, where African culinary traditions rule, it's like to be be dendê, the brilliant orange palm oil that is the herald of Bahian cooking.

Farinha - dry manioc flour

Manioc itself, of course, is a heritage of Amerindian cooking traditions in Brazil and the only truly native staple food in this country. This protean tuber appears at the Brazilian table in a startlingly large number of forms - so many and so different that it's hard to imagine they all come from the same plant. Manioc can be mashed or french-fried like potatoes, it can be made into breads and pastries, or it can show up as tapioca, which in Brazil means a crepe, not a dessert pudding. But it is as farofa that it's most commonly found on the dinner table.

Besides the use of different forms of fat to vary the basic recipe, Brazilian chefs also occasionally add other flavoring ingredients such as onion, crispy bacon bits or shredded carne de sol (dried jerky). Sometimes fresh herbs, particularly cilantro and chopped green onion, are added to give the farofa a fresh touch. Day-to-day farofa is likely to be more basic, however.

In Brazilian supermarkets it's possible to buy packages of farofa, pre-made. Most Brazilian cooks, though, still make it at home, preferring freshly cooked farofa to the industrially prepared variety.

Just as there are many different ways to cook farofa, there are many different ways to eat it. Some people like to sprinkle farofa directly on the grilled meat or fish. This is particularly popular when eating churrasquinho, Brazil's meat-on-a-stick take on kebabs. Some prefer to mix all the side dishes on their plate, the rice, the beans and the farofa, to make one all-purpose accompaniment to the meal's centerpiece. Others like to dip each forkful of meat into a pile of farofa before popping it into their mouth. And some, farofa's most ardent fans, will eat theirs straight up, not mixing it with anything else.

Because of the characteristically sandy, gritty texture of manioc flour and it's relative lack of flavor, visitors to Brazil are often puzzled by farofa. They don't appreciate the texture, likening it to beach sand, and they don't see what it adds to the dining experience. But non-Brazilians who spend some time in this country often find that the habit of eating farofa eventually sneaks up on them. At at some point in the Brazilianization process, they are likely to discover that a plate of grilled meats without farofa looks bare and incomplete. They've become farofasized.

The manioc flour used to make farofa, called farinha in Portuguese, can be difficult to source outside Brazil, unless you live in an area with a Brazilian immigrant community. In those areas, farinha can be bought in Latin American ethnic markets. Manioc flour is also a common ingredient in many African culinary cultures and African markets are likely to stock it as well.

RECIPE - Skate Moqueca (Moqueca de Arraia)

One of the most popular ways to serve arraia (ray or skate in English) in Brazil comes from the northeastern state of Bahia, specifically from the Afro-Brazilian culinary traditions of Salvador, the state's capital city and Brazil's original capital.

In traditional Bahian cuisine, a thick stew made from fish or seafood in a broth of tomatoes, onions, coconut milk and the brilliant-orange palm oil known as dendê is called a moqueca. The word moqueca and the recipe both come from Africa and the tradition of cooking fish in moquecas crossed the Atlantic to Brazil in the hold of slave ships which carried Africans to slavery in the mines and sugar cane plantations of Brazil.

This recipe for moqueca de arraia (moqueca of skate or ray) comes from the SENAC cooking school in Salvador, and is a typical moqueca. There are as many recipes for moqueca as there are cooks, but the ingredients used in this recipe are found in some combination in almost every recipe.

Dendê palm oil has a distinctive color and flavor and there really is no substitute for it, although substituting 2 or 3 tablespoons of sweet paprika will give the final dish almost the same color. However one of the most important flavor components will be missing when dendê is absent. In cities that have a Brazilian immigrant community, markets that cater to Brazilians will likely have dendê in stock, and in cities with an African immigrant population you can often find dendê in African markets, labeled simply palm oil.
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RECIPE - Skate Moqueca (Moqueca de Arraia)
Serves 4

2 lbs (1 kg) skate wings
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
juice of one lime
1 medium onion, sliced
2 medium tomatoes, peeled, seeded and sliced
2/3 cup coconut milk
1/3 cup dendê oil
1/4 cup cilantro, finely chopped
salt and pepper to taste
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Cut the skate wings into large pieces. Bring lots of water to a boil in a large saucepan, then add the skate. Lower the heat to a simmer and cook the fish for about 15 minutes. Drain the fish, and let cool completely. When the fish is cool, using your fingers or a fork, pull the meat away from the cartilaginous bony structure and flake it. Discard the cartilage. Season the meat with the lime juice, chopped garlic and cilantro and season with salt. Let marinade no more than 1/2 hour.

Preheat the oven to 350F (180C)

In a ceramic or glass casserole, preferably round, layer the slices of tomato and onion, alternating with layers of the reserved fish. Pour the coconut milk and dendê oil over all. Place in the preheated oven, and cook for 20-25 minutes, or until the tomato and onion are soft and the broth is bubbling hot.

Serve immediately accompanied by plain white rice and some sort of hot chili-pepper sauce.

RECIPE - Palm-Heart Moqueca (Moqueca de Palmito)

We mentioned in our last post that an authoritative Brazilian dictionary tells us that a moqueca can be made from fish, seafood, meat or eggs, plus other ingredients. In traditional Brazilian cooking that's probably true, but in today's culinary environment in Brazil traditional cooking styles and ancient dishes are being reinvented on a daily basis.

Although Brazilians are generally a carnivorous bunch, there are an increasing number of vegetarians in this country, and inventive chefs and clever restaurant managers are beginning to cater to them. When adapting traditional dishes like moquecas the trick is to find a central or identifying ingredient to substitute for the fish or meat that is found in the traditional dish. One excellent substitution for these animal proteins is palm hearts (aka hearts-of-palm). They have the advantage of still being distinctly Brazilian and their solid consistency gives them the substantiality and consistency of the missing meat or fish. This recipe comes from a Brazilian website of Seventh-Day Adventist recipes.

In Brazil, as elsewhere, most palm hearts are preserved in a light brine solution and canned or bottled. This recipe calls for these palm hearts - you do not have to search out fresh ones. The cans or jars can easily be found in most North American and European supermarkets, or certainly in gourmet grocery stores.
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RECIPE - Palm-Heart Moqueca (Moqueca de Palmito)
Serves 4

1 lb (500 gr) drained palm hearts
2 medium onions
2 cups (500 ml) coconut milk
1/2 cup (125 ml) dendê oil
1 small green bell pepper
1 small red bell pepper
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
1/2 bunch cilantro, leaves and small stems only, chopped
4 medium tomatoes, peeled and seeded
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Cut the palm hearts into thick slices, about 1/2 inch (1 cm) thick. Slice the onions, the bell peppers and the peeled tomatoes.

In a saucepan or large frying pan layer alternatively the palm hearts, onions, peppers and tomatoes. Drizzle a bit of dendê oil over each layer as you work. Sprinkle the top layer with salt, the chopped garlic and the chopped cilantro. Pour the coconut milk evenly over all.

Put the pan on a large stove-top heating element and gently bring it to a simmer. Do not let it boil vigorously. Cook until all the vegetables are softened and the sauce has thickened slightly.

RECIPE - Fish Moqueca (Moqueca de Peixe)

The bright orange palm oil dendê, featured in yesterday's post on Flavors of Brazil, is closely connected in most Brazilians' minds to the cooking styles of the northeastern Brazilian state of Bahia, where African cultural traditions have survived the longest and are the most vibrant of any place in Brazil.

One of the most characteristic cooking techniques in Bahia is called moqueca, and there are hundreds if not thousands of moquecas to be found in Bahia. One of Brazil's most authoritative dictionaries, Houaiss, defines a moqueca as:

a stew of fish, seafood, meat or eggs, made with coconut milk and  dendê oil plus seasonings (cilantro, onion, bell peppers, dried shrimps and chili peppers), cooked preferably in a clay casserole and served in the same dish. [Originally from northeastern Brazil, especially Bahia, but now considered characteristic of Brazilian cuisine in general, being found in various states of Brazil.]

Since the etymology of the word moqueca traces it back to an African word mu'keka meaning "fish chowder" or "fish stew" it's probably true that the first moquecas used fish as their principal ingredient and that other variations followed. So to begin with the beginning, here's a recipe for fish moqueca that comes from Bahia.
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RECIPE - Fish Moqueca (Moqueca de Peixe)
Serves 4

2 lb (1 kg) snook, grouper, or other firm, non-flaking white fish, cut into steaks or large chunks
juice of 1 lemon
salt and black pepper to taste
1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
4 medium tomatoes
1 medium green bell pepper
1 medium red bell pepper
1/4 cup firmly-packed chopped cilantro
3 Tbsp dendê oil (click here to read about purchasing and about substitutes)
2 cups coconut milk
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Season the fish with the lime juice, olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. Reserve, marinading, for 30 minutes.

In a blender or food processor, blend the tomatoes, the onion, peppers and the cilantro until you have a homogenous but still slightly chunky liquid.

In a large frying pan, head the dendê oil, then add the mixture from the blender and cook for about 5 minutes, or until the sauce is hot and bubbling. Add the fish, covering the pieces with the tomato mixture and cook for one or two minutes. Stir in the coconut milk, bring to a simmer and cook for about 25 minutes, or until the fish is completely cooked and the sauce has thickened.

Serve in a decorative bowl, preferably of unglazed earthenware, garnished with cilantro leaves, a few rings of onions and bell peppers if desired. Accompany with white rice and a good, preferably homestyle hot sauce.

Recipe translated and adapted from Cozinha Regional Brazileira by Abril Editora.

INGREDIENTS - Dendê Oil (Azeite-de-dendê)

Fruits of the Dendê palm

Back in the earliest days of this blog, in the middle of a recipe post for an Italo-Brazilian-fusion risotto, we published some basic information about an edible oil called dendê that is an essential element of traditional Brazilian cooking, most particularly the African-influenced cuisine of the state of Bahia. Bahian cooking without dendê is unthinkable. It's an almost-omnipresent ingredient there and an essential part of the typical Bahian flavor profile.

Because of its importance to Brazilian gastronomy, and because many of this blog's readers have expressed interest in this shockingly bright orange oil, we thought that dendê deserved a post of its own. And so here it is.

Dendê oil comes from the fruit of the African Oil Palm (Elaeis guineensis), native to West Africa in the region from Angola to Gambia. Mature oil palms grow to great heights, up to 60 feet (approx. 20 meters) and produce a brilliant red fruit. It's from the pulp of this fruit that dendê oil is processed. The kernel of the fruit also is a source of oil, but that oil is called palm kernel oil in English and its use is restricted to soaps and cosmetics. The edible oil comes from the pulp.

The African Oil Palm (and naturally dendê oil) arrived in Brazil along with the millions of African slaves which were brought to this country to work the gold mines and on the sugar and cotton plantations. Even today, those areas of Brazil which have a higher black population are likely to consume more dendê, especially in those areas, like Bahia, where African cultural traditions are still vibrant. But dendê is eaten all throughout Brazil, though not always in the quantities that it's eaten in Bahia. It is still a highly-inmportant edible oil in West Africa, its original territory.

Dendê oil and its consumption by humans is a controversial topic among botanists and nutritionists. On the positive side, the bright red-orange color of the oil is due to the presence of high levels of carotenes - alpha-carotene, beta-carotene and lycophene. These phytonutrients are all highly beneficial to humans and have significant anti-oxidant properties. Studies show that dendê has up to 15 times as much beta-carotene as carrots. It is also a source of tocotrienol, part of the vitamin E family.

On the other hand, dendê oil is highly saturated, and the consumption of large quantities of saturated fats has been shown to have deleterious health effects in humans, primarily an increase in cholesterol levels.  Dendê does not contain cholesterol, only animal fats do that, but highly-saturated fats can contribute to increased levels of cholesterol in humans, both LDL ("bad" cholesterol) and HDL ("good" cholesterol).

Because it is a saturated fat, palm oil is a valuable source of edible oil in the processed food industry. Saturated fats do not become rancid quickly and can be heated to high temperatures without burning. Because of this much of the world's supply of palm oil is processed for use in the food industry, and during this processing loses much of its nutritional benefit without losing any of deleterious qualities. Fortunately, as its used in traditional Brazilian cooking, unprocessed dendê oil is desired and in most cases only a small amount of that, so food scientists say that eating dendê the way Brazilians do isn't damaging to one's health.

In traditional Bahian cooking, dendê oil is used as a cooking fat in dishes such as acarajé, the iconic dish of Bahia, and as a flavoring ingredient in many of the most well-known Bahian dishes - xinxim de galinha, various moquecas, bobó de camarão, vatapá and others. As a flavoring ingredient it is most commonly combined with coconut milk, chili peppers and cilantro. It's the combination of these ingredients that for many people make a dish definably Bahian. Dendê oil is also an important ritual food in the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé.

Artisanally-produced dendê oil

Because of its distinctive color and flavor, there really are no acceptable substitutes for dendê oil in recipes which call for it. The color can be approximated by the use of annatto oil, but the taste is unique. It can be purchased outside Brazil in markets which cater to Brazilian expatriot communities. It can also be found, often more easily, in market which sell African foods, or which cater to African communities. In most of these shops it will be called simply Palm Oil, or African Palm Oil. It can easily be identified by it's bright color and by the fact that some or all of the oil will be solid at room temperature.

RECIPE - Shrimp Bobo (Bobó de Camarão)

This classic dish from the state of Bahia is one of the cornerstones of the Afro-Bahian tradition of cooking that is so strongly linked to the state and to its capital, Salvador. It contains most of the fundamental ingredients in the Bahian cook's larder - manioc, coconut milk (lots of it!), dendê palm oil and the sweet fresh shrimps for which Brazil's north-east coast is so famous.

A bobó is a manioc cream or puree, which can be served unadorned or finished with shrimp or other protein.  Depending on the recipe and on the cook the puree can be as thin as a soup or something more substantial. The word bobó comes to Brazil from the language of the Ewe people who inhabited current-day Ghana, Togo and Benin and who were brought to Brazil as slaves in large numbers during the era of the trans-Atlantic slave trade. In their language, bobó means "a dish made with beans." Today, there are no beans in bobó, at least in Brazil. Instead the cream is made with manioc, a native South American staple and one to which Afro-Brazilian slaves took enthusiastically when they were introduced to it in the New World.

For anyone who has any culinary curiousity or interest in Brazilian cooking and eating traditions, going to Salvador or anywhere else in Bahia and not trying bobó de camarão at least once would be nearly as great a gastronomic sin as not trying acarajé while visiting Bahia. (Nearly as great, but not quite). Fortunately, bobó de camarão is easy to find in restaurants that feature local dishes and is a staple dish on buffet tables in Bahian self-serve restaurants. It's also quite easy to make, and can be a great centerpiece for a casual dinner for a small group.  This recipe serves 8 well. White rice is an obligatory side dish, and if you add a green salad you have a complete meal.

The only ingredient that can be difficult to source outside Brazil (and which is absolutely necessary in a bobó) is the shockingly-brilliant orange palm oil called dendê. In North America and Europe it can be ordered online, or usually can be sourced in Latin American and African food markets. If the product is destined to the African trade, it might just be labelled "palm oil" - if it's orange and solid or semi-solid at room temperature, then it the right stuff. Manioc is available in the same markets, though it may be labelled cassava root, or yuca depending on the ethnic variety of the market.
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RECIPE - Shrimp Bobo (Bobó de Camarão)
Serves 8

For the manioc cream:
2 lbs (1 kg) cooking onions, peeled and chopped
2 lbs (1 kg) firm, ripe tomatoes, seeded and chopped
2 green bell peppers, seeded and chopped
4 Tbsp finely cilantro, finely chopped
2 lbs (1 kgs) manioc/cassava/yuca root, peeled, boiled and mashed
2 cups (500 ml) extra-virgin olive oil
4 cups (1 liter) coconut milk

For the shrimp:
4 lbs (4 kgs) medium or large shrimp, peeled, deheaded and deveined, with tails left on
1 clove garlic, minced
1 Tbsp salt
2 Tbsp cilantro, finely chopped
3 medium tomatoes, seeded and chopped
3 medium onions, chopped
1 green bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1/2 cup (125 ml) extra-virgin olive oil
4 cups (1 liter)coconut milk
2 Tbsp dendê oil
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 Prepare the manioc cream:  In a large heavy saucepan, combine the onion, tomatoes, green pepper and cilantro with the mashed manioc. Stir in the olive oil and coconut milk, then heat over medium-high heat, stirring constantly. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring constantly, or until the cream begins to pull away from the bottom of the pan when you stir. Remove from the heat and reserve.

Prepare the shrimp: Rinse the shrimp well in plenty of cold running water. Drain. In a large, deep saucepan combine the drained shrimp, chopped garlic, salt, cilantro, tomatoes, onions, green pepper and the olive oil. Heat over medium high heat, stirring frequently. When hot, add the coconut milk in 1/2 cup amounts, stirring after each addition to completely mix. Continue to cook for 5 minutes more, stirring constantly.

Add the reserved manioc puree to the shrimps and continue to cook for 5 more minutes, stirring frequently. Just before removing from the heat, add the dendê oil and mix it in completely. Remove from heat, pour into a decorative deep serving platter, sprinkle with additional cilantro if desired and serve immediately.

Those Exotic, Difficult-to-find Ingredients

As a blog about all things Brazilian in the world of gastronomy and cooking, Flavors of Brazil must deal constantly with the problem that one or more ingredients in an important dish or preparation might be very difficult to find outside Brazil.Flavors of Brazil is written in English, and although about 25% of our page views come from Brazil, the vast majority of hits come from English-speaking countries - the USA, Canada and the UK leading the list.

Consequently, we're often faced with an editorial dilemma when deciding which dish to feature, or what recipe to publish. Should we post a recipe that requires an ingredient that is virtually unobtainable outside Brazil, or should we avoid publishing it so as not to frustrate readers who'd like to try the recipe but can't find the ingredients they need?  For example, many dishes from Bahia require dendê oil, made from a palm tree and not widely available in North America or Europe. You can't make Brazil's famous acarajé without dendê, and Flavors of Brazil couldn't pretend to any sort of completeness without a recipe for acarajé.

Our solution has normally been to publish the recipe, indicate which ingredients might be difficult to find and to suggest substitutes where possible. Where substitution of an ingredient would render the recipe meaningless, we try to suggest possible sources of the ingredient.

All of which brings us to the topic of this post. Just as Flavors of Brazil might make a list of Brazilian ingredients which are hard to find, with suggestions about substitution, one of Brazil's national newspapers, Folha de S. Paulo, this week published an interesting piece on ingredients from other countries and cultures which are difficult or impossible to source in Brazil. Readers of this blog from the USA, from Australia or France, for instance, might be surprised that foods that are absolutely mundane to them and universally available are considered exotic and strange in Brazil.

I remember the first time I finally tracked down fresh celery here in Fortaleza, and served it on a vegetable platter. Almost none of the twenty or so guests at the party knew what it was or recognized the flavor when they sampled it. Celery just doesn't have a place in most Brazilians' kitchens, and its distinctive flavor doesn't contribute to stocks and broths, or to tuna salad, or to vegetable platters in this part of the world.

So, just to amplify this list, and exemplify the notion that exoticism is in the eye of the beholder, here are some ingredients discussed in the piece from Folha de S. Paulo:

• rhubarb
• curry powder
• maple syrup
• buttermilk
• parsnips
• sour cream
• lemons

The next time you're in the produce section of your local market and spot a package of celery, or pick up a tub of cour cream, just think to yourself, "How exotic!"

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.

RECIPE - Vatapá (Version 2- for Acarajé)

Unlike yesterday's recipe for vatapá, which was an all-purpose, all-meal side dish that can be served in any number of social situations, this version is meant for one specific purpose. One of the essential components of the Afro-Brazilian street food acarajé is a dollop of thick and creamy vatapá, and the recipe below is a close approximation of the recipe used by beautifully-dressed baianas (women in traditional Bahian dress) in public squares and on street corners throughout Salvador, Bahia and elsewhere in Brazil.

Acarajé is a baseball-sized fritter made from ground and mashed black-eyed-peas fried in dendê palm oil. Traditionally, when her hot fritter comes out of the brilliant orange palm oil a baiana will first cut it open through middle without separating the two halves entirely. Then, depending on the customer's desires and tolerance, she will use a small spoon to spread some VERY hot pepper sauce on the warm inner surface of the acarajé. Next a generous smear of vatapá, some optional dried shrimps, and finally something which she (by tradition, all sellers of acarajé are women) calls "salada" but which is in fact chopped tomatoes and onions. Only then is it handed to the customer in a small paper napkin to be eaten on the spot. Acarajé is a dish that definitely does not improve with age, and a cold acarajé is heavy and stodgy. A hot one, strong with the flavors of dendê oil. hot pepper, dried shrimp and vatapá, is street-food heaven.

Here's a recipe, then, for vatapá baiano perfect for acarajé. For a recipe for acarajé itself, click here.
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RECIPE - Vatapá (Version 2- for Acarajé)

1/2 lb (250 gr) dried shrimp*
1 qt (1 liter) canned coconut milk
1/2 cup (75 gr) peanuts, unsalted, roasted, peeled
1/2 cup (75 gr) cashew nuts, unsalted, roasted
3 Tbsp. Italian parsley, finely chopped
3 Tbsp. cilanto, finely chopped
2 medium tomatoes, seeded and chopped
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 cup dendê oil**
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
salt to taste
1 Tbsp. grated ginger

*can be purchased at most Asian, African and Latin American markets
**can be purchased at African and Brazilian markets
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In a food processor, process the dried shrimp, peanuts and cashew nuts until you have a homogenous, finely-ground mixture. Dissolve the flour in half of the coconut milk, and stir to completely mix, making sure there are no lumps. In a blender, combine the parsley, cilantro, chopped tomato and onions, and blend completely.

Put the remaining half of the coconut oil in a large, heavy saucepan, and heat over medium heat. When the coconut milk is hot, but not boiling, slowly add the dissolved flour, stirring constantly. Then add the herb/tomato/onion mix and finally the ground shrimp and nuts while still stirring constantly. Cook for a few minutes then add the dendê and olive oils, the remaining half of the dried shrimp, salt to taste and the grated ginger. Increase heat and bring to a boil, continuing to stir to make sure the mixture doesn't lump. Reduce heat and cook, constantly stirring, until the mixture is thickened, smooth and creamy. If the mixture is too thick add additional coconut milk to thin it out; if it's too thin, add a small amount of flour, dissolved in water or coconut milk.

Let cool completely, the use as filling for acarajé.

Recipe translated and adapted from Cozinha Brazileira by Ana Paula Oliveira.

RECIPE - Vatapá (Version 1 - as a side-dish)

As mentioned in this post on Flavors of Brazil, there are really two distinct versions of the Bahian classic preparation vatapá - there is the consistent, creamy paste that is used as a filling for acarajé, a fritter made from ground black-eyed-peas, and there is a more substantial and less consistent side dish for buffets and feasts.

Although the list of ingredients for the two recipes is similar, one distinguishing difference between the two style of vatapá is the way in which wheat is introduced into the dish. In vatapá for acarajé some type of wheat flour is normally used, while in the side-dish version, it's more common to use day-old or dried bread. In either case, it is this wheat which gives the dish its consistency, which should be firmer, yet creamy, in vatapá for acarajé and a bit more saucy in the side-dish version.

The following recipe, for the side-dish version makes a perfect, and typical, addition to a Bahian buffet table, or any type of celebratory feast. In Fortaleza, my Brazilian hometown, for example, vatapá is commonly served along with turkey at Christmas dinner. I've also been served the dish at birthday buffets and at weekend barbeques. It's substantial and filling, and with its coconut milk, dried shrimps and dendê oil adds a completely Brazilian touch to any table.
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RECIPE - Vatapá (Version 1 - as a side-dish)
Serves 8

1 lb (450 gr) day-old French or Italian white bread
1 cup canned or homemade coconut milk
1 cup dendê oil*
1 cup finely chopped onion
1/4 cup good-quality large dried shrimp, whole**
1/4 cup ground cashew nuts
1/4 cup ground peanuts
1/2 cup good quality small dried shrimp, ground**
salt to taste
1/4 lb (100 gr) cooked and shredded salt cod (bacalhau)
3 cups fish stock
1 Tbsp. freshly grated ginger

* dendê oil can be purchased at most African or Brazilian markets
** dried shrimp can be purchased at most Asian, African or Latin American markets
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Tear the bread into coarse shreds in a large mixing bowl, pour over the coconut milk, then let stand until the bread is soft. Blend in a blender or food processor. Reserve.

In a large heavy saucepan heat the dendê oil, add the onions and whole shrimp and cook until the onions are transparent but not browned. Add the ground cashews and peanuts, the ground shrimp, then stir to mix in completely. Salt to taste. Add in the bread-coconut mixture, stirring in completely, the salt cod, then the fish stock. Reduce the heat to low, continue to cook, stirring frequently to prevent sticking, until the sauce is reduced and thickened. Remove from heat, stir in the grated ginger, pour into a large serving dish and serve.

Recipe translated and adapted from Cozinha Regional Brazileira by Abril Editora

A Tale of Two Dishes - Vatapá

"The glory of Bahian cuisine", "The most typical Bahian dish", "Bahia's definitive dish" - These are just a few of the many, many descriptions of the creamy, fragrant and evocative mixture of bread, coconut milk, peanuts or cashew nuts, dried shrimp and an almost-unlimited variety of other ingredients called vatapá. Firmly established as a central component in the Afro-Brazilian cuisine of the Brazilian state of Bahia, vatapá is today enjoyed throughout Brazil though everywhere it continues to be considered a Bahian dish.

Vatapá has long been celebrated as a culinary treasure in Bahia and an integral part of that states culture. In his novel "Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands" Brazilian author Jorge Amado extols the virtues of vatapá through the words of his cooking-school-teacher heroine Dona Flor speaking to her class, "Let's move to the stove: vatapá made of fish (or chicken) is a dish that requires both care and whimsy, the most most famous dish of Bahian cuisine. Take two whole heads of grouper, add salt, cilantro, garlic and onion, a few tomatoes plus some fresh lime juice..." and from there Amado continues to include an entire recipe for vatapá in his novel. The Bahian singer-songwriter Dorival Caymmi composed a paean to the dish titled, naturally, "Vatapá" which has become a Brazilian standard. They lyrics of his song include a list of essential ingredients for a successful  vatapá, including a Baiana (a black woman from Bahia) who "knows how to stir." Here's a video from YouTube of this marvelous song, as sung by Gal Costa:



The origins of vatapá are unknown, though all culinary historians agree that even if the basic concept came from Africa on board slave ships, it was developed in Bahia itself. The word come from Yoruba, an African language, where it means "a spicy seafood paste", yet the dish isn't part of contemporary African cooking. Most Bahian dishes that came fully developed from Africa are ritual foods in the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé, but vatapá has no part in the ceremonies of that religion.

The essential ingredients for vatapá, common to almost all recipes include stale bread, coconut milk, ground nuts and dried shrimp. And all recipes use one technique or another to create a thick sauce or paste. Beyond that, the variations are innumerable. However, over time two distinct, and distinctly different, dishes have developed, both called vatapá. One is the fairly thick homogenous paste that is an essential filling for the Bahian bean fritter called acarajé. The other is less homogenous, with chunks and pieces of the various ingredients in a thick sauce. It is served as a side dish in a Bahian meal, or as part of a Bahian buffet. Both are vatapá but they are quite different preparations. The next two posts on Flavors of Brazil will include recipes for both styles of vatapá.

RECIPE - Dona Flor's Moqueca de Siri-Mole

Dona Flor is one of the most beloved heroines in all of Brazilian literature, and came to life through the pen of Jorge Amado in his 1966 novel, Dona Flor e Seus Dois Maridos (Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands). Amado is probably the best-known contemporary Brazilian author of fiction, and his novels are read around the world. Dona Flor has been translated into over forty languages, and many non-readers know her through the brilliant film of the same name, directed by Bruno Barreto and released in 1976. The beautiful Brazilian actress Sonia Braga became a world-wide star by her sensitive and extremely sensual portrayal of Dona Flor.

In the novel, which is set in Salvador, Bahia in the 1940s, Dona Flor is the owner of a cooking school, called Flavor and Art Culinary School. Though the product of a strict, Catholic middle-class upbringing, she has scandalized her family and friends by marrying a local reprobate gambler and womanizer, Vadinho, with whom she is passionately in love. The novel begins with Vadinho's death, early one drunken morning of Carnaval, which leaves Dona Flor a heartbroken widow in her mid-twenties. Forced to support herself, and to pay off her beloved Vadinho's gambling debts she throws herself into her work at the cooking school.

In the novel, each section is opened by a recipe written by Dona Flor, or by a lesson from one of her cooking classes. The recipe that follows is for Moqueca de Siri-Mole and it combines a very usable recipe for this traditional soft-shelled crab dish from Bahia with Flor's pain-ridden memories of cooking this dish for Vadinho. I have translated the text from Amado's original Portuguese.

To read the recipe, just click on "read more" below.

Siri and Siri-Mole

Brazilians love crustaceans - that is to say Brazilians love to eat crustaceans, though perhaps some Brazilians love crustaceans in and of themselves. Shrimp, langostines, crawfish, lobsters and numerous types of crabs fill restaurant menus and are enjoyed everywhere in Brazil, not just along the coast.

 Some varieties of crustacean are found in great parts of Brazil, but others are quite local (click here to read about the aratu, a species of crab). Along Brazil's northeast coast, one of the most highly valued and sought-after species of crab goes under the name of siri, and in particular Brazilians love to eat it as siri-mole. The siris are a family of crabs (genus Callinectes) which is distinguished by their oar-shaped hind legs, which make them excellent swimmers. In fact, the usual term in English for the siri is "swimming crab". The most well-known swimming crab in the USA is the famous blue crab of the Chesapeake Bay on the mid-Atlantic coast.

Like all crustaceans, the siri must periodically shed its hard shell in order to grow. Human gastronomes have discovered that this little creature is particularly delicious just after it has molted - that is, shed it's shell - and before a new shell has had time to harden. In English, during this vulnerable time these crabs are called "soft-shelled crabs", and in Brazil, "siri-mole" which merely means "soft siri."

In this soft, shell-less state, Brazilians enjoy siri-mole simply fried, cooked in a soup or stew, or most of all, turned into a moqueca de siri-mole - a typical dish from Bahia which employs the iconic Bahian flavoring ingredients coconut milk and dendê oil.

In the next post, I'll provide a very "literary" recipe for moqueca de siri-mole, from one of Brazil's most famous authors.

A National Treasure - Baianas Selling Acarajé

Many countries have a official list of national treasures, or a museum which displays the best of the nation's artistic and cultural heritage. The Tower of London houses England's crown jewels, in Paris, the Louvre houses paintings by Watteau, the Musée d'Orsay displays the works of Manet, Monet and Gauguin, and the Centre Pompidou showcases the best of 20th Century art. Brazil has a national institute called the Institute of National Historic and Artistic Patrimony (Instituto do Patrimônio Histórico e Artístico Nacional), commonly known in Portuguese as IPHAN, which has been charged with selecting the best of Brazil's historic, cultural and artistic treasures. What is most interesting is that IPHAN has been charged not only with selecting paintings, buildings, palaces and churches, it has been charged with selecting those immaterial treasures that are central to the conception of Brazilian culture. This list of immaterial national treasures includes food and cooking, and though I am not sure if Brazil is the only country to so classify foods and preparation techniques, I'm sure it is one of a very few. It's as if the USA declared that Kansas City Barbeque or Cajun Jambalaya were national treasures, worthy of inclusion in the Smithsonian Institute, or if Canada bestowed such an appellation on Quebec's poutine.

Currently there are 15 items registered by IPHAN as immaterial national treasures of Brazil. They include traditional dances, country fairs, methods of making lace, musical instruments, and childrens games. IPHAN chose in 2004 to add acarajé to this list, and significantly chose to add not only the food item itself, but also the historically significantly way that it is prepared and sold on the streets of Salvador, Bahia, by women known as baianas. In the certification of  "Acarajé as Sold by Baianas" as a national treasure, IPHAN included acarajé itself and the way it is prepared, the traditional clothing of the baianas, which is linked to the rituals of the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé, and the customary layout of accompaniments on the baianas' streetside tables, called tabuleiros.

Most Brazilians, including those from the state of Bahia and those who are not, would agree that acarajé well deserves its place in the Brazilian cultural pantheon. Few are the tourists who leave Salvador without having tasted this treat at least once, and fewer still are those whose sensory memory of that baroque city does not include the utterly distinctive aroma of acarajé frying in dendê oil and the spicy complex flavor of the offerings of the "baiana de acarajé."

Click on "read more" below for a translation of the official IPHAN certificate of acarajé as a national cultural treasure.

RECIPE - Caruru

Caruru, made with okra, dried shrimps, dendê oil, and ground cashews is a staple of Bahian cuisine. The cooking of Bahia derives many of its dishes from the African tradition, and caruru, or very similar dishes, can be found in West Africa, the Caribbean and the Southern US.

Caruru is a ritual food of the Candomblé religion, and is used as filling in the typical Bahian street-food acarajé. It also makes a delicious and substantial side-dish to any Bahian meal.

Click on "read more" for the recipe...

RECIPE - Italo-Bahian Shrimp Risotto

The one indispensible ingredient of this dish is the vivid red-orange palm oil called dendê (pronounced: den-DAY). Other oils, like annatto oil may be substituted for color, but there is no acceptable substite for the flavor of dendê. In North America's larger cities, I have found dendê in Latin American or African food stores, although name dendê will only be used in Latin American stores, the African name being merely palm oil. It can also be purchased online in the USA at Latinmerchant.com.

Click on "read more" for the recipe...