Rio on a platter

A unique mixture of African and European traditions, Brazilian food is essentially a melting pot of influences from all over the world, writes Janardhan Roye

Brazilian Feijoada (black beans)

Rio de Janeiro. The very name conjures up cheery images of blue skies, white sandy beaches and swaying palms. In this picturesque setting thrives a highly evolved epicurean tradition of Portuguese-European, Afro and trendy global cuisine. All in the shadow of the timeless practices of the native people to form a gastronomy that overwhelms and delights visitors. Raphael, a Carioca or Rio citizen, walked me through the complex-sounding names of dishes, ingredients, and the stories behind them.

At the flea market Feira Hippie de Ipanema, as the searing sun climbed the skies, he introduced me to an ‘energy-giving, superfood’ — a sweetened purple smoothie made from the bitter berry, açai. Tasty and refreshing, it hit the spot. The fresh fruit juice kiosk had other rainforest produce in an array of colours, textures and scents — guarana, cacao, maracuja, buriti…. I saw them again at the upmarket, Fazenda Culinária, the café at the science-art Museo do Amanha — Museum of Tomorrow.

A street food classic is the fragrant broth, tacaca. This plant-rich dish simmered to thick gravy is served hot in cuias, hollowed-out gourds. Combined with the mouth-numbing tambaqui — a freshwater fish, it is spiked with pimenta de cheiro — an aromatic yellow pepper, and alfavaca (Amazonian basil). Several action groups, food preparers are making sure such items are protected, saved from vanishing.

At a trendy hill-top restaurant with its panoramic views of the city, chefs prioritise the use of produce provided by the exuberant rainforest. They put out such sublimated dishes as rainha do baoa — river fish, drizzled with sweetened bacuri sauce and filé de filhote ao molho tucupi com jambu — Tucupi fish fillet with a heap of tucupi, wild cassava, jambuo, cilantro.

The early Portuguese, joined later by other nationalities, used local produce extensively. In time, herbs, spices, vegetables and fruit alien to the land were brought in. With that began the fusion of global cuisine. Large-scale farming expanded the gastronomic landscape. Fresh and processed meats, milk and dairy, and cereals — wheat, rice, changed the ways in the kitchen.

With Brazil as the largest producer-exporter of meats, it is no surprise that all-you-can-eat barbecues, churrascarias abound in Rio. Waiters flit from table to table, carving cuts of skewered and all things meaty.

The farm-to-table concept has permeated the local culinary scene. With the easy availability of flour, sugar, and dairy, a mix of bakery, confectionery, and patisserie focuses on baked treats. To pamper the sweet-toothed there’s that hugely loved cafe, Confeiteria Colombo. Located in a magnificent heritage building with high stained-glass ceilings, large crystal mirrors, and a piano player on the mezzanine floor, it spoils one for choices with its alchemy of sweet and savoury baked goods — brigadeiro — a gooey chocolate truffle, Romeu e Julieta — guava paste and cheese, pastel de nata — an egg custard...

The Afro-connection, after years of slavery, has left a strong impact on the local cuisine. Originally, the sugar plantation cooks scraped out food from okra, black-eyed peas…and discarded meat from which they extracted every bit of flavour to make tasty wholesome meals.

These ‘least privileged inhabitants’ introduced dishes from the ‘humble to the sublime’. There’s caruru — okra, onions, toasted nuts in palm oil, moqueca — an exemplary shrimp stew made with coconut milk, and feijoada — a rich black bean stew enriched with dry meats, all eaten on a bed of rice. Today, such healthy and rustic emblematic foods have neatly wafted into every facet of Rio’s cuisine. “Everyone adds their own touches to feijoada,” said Raphael who comes from a large family. He adds: “Mother cooked it using whatever was available. When asked what meat, she’d laughingly reply, from the first animal that ran through the kitchen!”

Sundays at Rio beaches are like a large high spirited party, bursting with energy and activity. Uniquely in this holiday atmosphere, whole families descend on the sand.

To keep the party going, trucks, mobile kiosks, pushcarts and individual vendors line up a baffling choice of beverages, desserts and salgadinhos — local snacks coxinhas or deep-fried potato, minced chicken pockets, pão de queijo or balls of soft yucca bread lacquered with cheese, casquinha de caranguejo (crab meat sautéed with cilantro, alfavaca, lime and served in a shell).

To my query, a zesty woman, dressed in a canga — sarong, juggling the cocktail caipirinha, said with slavery abolished, Blacks didn’t have jobs or income. “My ancestors made stuff to sell at the beaches to make a living.”

Adele, a Copacabana yoga instructor speaking of the bewildering mix of Rio foods, said, “Global, fusion food is here. It doesn’t mean bye to old ways. Native produce and cooking practices are in some way or the other moving the flavours of the day!”