The Salty Cod: Brasil

Showing posts with label Brasil. Show all posts

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Damn It. I Missed April

Good morning to you all, or to you few. It is now winter/autumn in Brazil, which means about twenty degrees warmer than an average Seattle summer day. The nights are slightly cooler, but standing under the sun is as prickly as ever. Lately my days have been as such: I've collected a few more students and have ditched working with the school, been frequenting the lovely Vila Lobos park on the weekends with miss Sybil and our fellow dog-enthusiast friends, have passed through a cookie and cupcake photo shoot and have signed on for a new one, catered for an event at a fancy night club, and ----- I've finally made the perfect gluten free bread loaf. Saving the best for last, i know. I might give away the recipe in a few weeks. Or not.

cupcake tower by Sophie and Theo's Cupcakes

I had hopped that two months from now i would be on a jet plane to Seattle to visit my family and baby niece who i have never seen (well, she is only two months old), but unfortunately that won't be happening until December. At three thousand reais a ticket, it's impossible to go to Seattle more than once a year, times two people. I prefer going in December because I've always found December to be the happiest month in the US. Yes it's cold, but no one has school, most people are blowing off their jobs early and damn it i like holiday spirit. I do miss holidays living here. Now don't get me wrong, we have tons of holidays in Brazil. But 'holiday' here usually means a day off work, a barbecue or a quick trip to the beach (or as i like to say, a QTB. no not really). I miss the decorations and enthusiasm that comes with the holiday spirit in the US. I like it when store fronts paint pumpkins and turkeys in the window, when Starbucks serves seasonal beverages and draws whimsical holiday chalk drawings on their menu boards, when in December you seemingly can't walk into any commercial (or residential building) without hearing Christmas music. Will i ever have red, white and blue jello salad again? or use holiday-coordinated paper plates and napkins?

I think it's the weather. It's definitely not the argument of, "well Americans like to waste money on more crap" because if anything Brazilians spend a lot of money. So here we are shuffling on into Autumn like i mentioned before, and i can't help but think of Halloween. in June. yes. Brazilian culture doesn't celebrate Halloween. For obvious reasons, however. Halloween has its roots in Irish culture, an immigrant population that did not make its way as fully to Brazil as it did to the US. So i blame not! Usually when i comment on the lack of Halloween here to family and friends the response is, well isn't there Day of the Dead in November? Yes, technically there is. But it's not called Day of the Dead, it's called Finados (literally "souls") and is pretty unexciting. I mean, nothing happens. Observing Catholics might visit a deceased loved one's grave with a bouquet of flowers, but there's no parades or colorful costumes like Dia de los Muertos in Mexico. So Halloween-time festivities are out.

The closest Brazil gets to an Autumnal festival takes place in June, the Festa Junina. Festa is the only holiday i am aware of in Brazil (aside from Carnival) where costumes are involved. The theme of the Festa is "over exaggerated farmer" or drunk hick. Men wear plaid shirts, overalls and straw hats while the females wear raggedy-Anne doll dresses, straw hats with pigtails and painted on freckles. Costumes! One lucky gal at each party even gets to shove a pillow under her dress and act out the scene of the pregnant bride. The wedding ceremony usually happens around a bonfire and sometimes there's a conga line. Festive food includes corn, hot dogs, popcorn, corn pudding, peanuts, hot wine and hot cachaça. Personally i only go every year for the peanut candies. This year a friend of mine has invited me to a new one hosted by a brand new hostel here in Sampa, we will both be selling food stuff out of the kitchen and we are hoping to make the selection nouveau-festa-junina by making a fusion of American autumnal flavors with the classic Festa Junina flavors. So if any of you have any ideas and would like to share, please leave a remark in the comments section. We have until mid-June to get the menu spot on. The crowd will be young and intoxicated, keep that in mind. I leave you with a few random photos until next time, à bientot.

Dia das Maes Cupcake made by Sophie and Theo's Cupcakes

picnic sandwiches at Parque Vila Lobos

Dia das Maes brownies made by The Kitchen

Monday, February 27, 2012

Hello?

potatoes.

I know there's nobody there anymore. The hello is rhetorical. This writing is strictly for the nobody i started writing to somewhere around five years ago. It feels good to write to nobody. Salty has been dead for close to nine months. But really Salty has been dead for a year. No food. No photos. None of that jazz that got us off the floor of that baby-puke stained family room all those years ago. Why did i let it die. I don't know exactly. People have been asking me that. I have been asking myself that. Sometimes the subject is avoided; that big fat pregnant elephant in the room. Murder is not an appropriate dinner time conversation. She lost her touch. She lost her drive. Ah, she got too busy. I don't really know. Actually i do. and it's more than one answer. It was never supposed to be forever. I was only 20 years old.

Today, there are more blogs- particularly food blogs- out there than words in the english language (that number hovers somewhere around two million) and i suppose i got tired. I got tired of it all. It felt like a basketball team potluck. I had thoughts of a race for some nonexistent pay. And then there was that Twitter. There's something about that Twitter my friend... Even without the words, there was this smoky smell of a competition. of a community. Who the hell came up with that idea anyway-online community. to judge each other. Communities are for moms sitting around a church or school room floor teaching each other how to breastfeed. Communities are soccer parents figuring out who will fetch and deliver their prodigy children to their practices on any given day. Communities are for alcoholics and drug addicts learning how to live again. i made my point, and that point isn't that i'm antisocial. the point is i fell out of love with the idea of the word blog and was overcome by the fear of considering myself a stay at home (insert female associated word) who blogs to pass the time and train my camera to take as many of the exact same shots with bled-out backgrounds as everyone else who, from my point of view, popped up over night. The thing that i failed to convince myself of was that i could just ignore it all. That was murder stage one.

And now i will describe murder stage two. My disdain with the idea of being a food blogger was merely the prepping; the gagging, the blind folding, a few slaps in the face. But not murder. I was the lone gunman. And i didn't even have the guts to shoot out of mercy. I bled him slowly. and with no proper burial. I accredit my unbalanced thoughts (i won't use the word depression because unhappiness is not involved here, more of an uneasiness) to the fact that i was still a foreigner living in a foreign country. The only problem was that as two years loomed on the horizon i gave myself this brilliant idea that i no longer fit the description of out of place foreigner. After a few years, are you really still a tourist experiencing a delicacy of strange yet charming cultural differences? Do you have that excuse anymore? I thought no. Two years is enough. apparently this is now my home. No longer a tourist. and i started to see the place differently. My eye color changed from objective to subjective. Somewhere among this rubble i killed Salty. Either I thought i didn't need him anymore or maybe he didn't need me anymore. But more to the point, with my sandy colored new shade of subjective pupils, i knew i had nothing to write about my daily life in Brazil that wouldn't cause uproar, criticism and hatred. If i write what i want to write, i will be salted and dried in the cold Norwegian sun along with my dear friend. I didn't want to write about my childhood memories of cookies, or how lovely apples are on the trees in the dying light of the harvest season. I wanted to write about real things. But after a few death threats by anonymous readers for complaining about missing raspberries and street harvested blackberries (side note: if you were to ask any foreigner whether visitor or resident what they love about brazil, they will undoubtedly tell you about how friendly and open the people are) i realized that what i wanted to write about wasn't exactly what my audience wanted to read. and on top of it im a crybaby. yes. a crybaby. So, that age-old saying of if you have nothing nice to say--- to top it all, i told myself i was ready to end it. to grow up and focus on bigger things. i thought it was time. But to be honest, it wasn't.

I've been feeling out of sorts with myself for a while. Nobody really tells you how hard it is to live in a country not your own. And nobody really tells you how hard it is to live in Brazil- with an opinion. So now to wrap up this murder confession, i will expose for you the straw that broke the camel's back. Yes, one straw that made my yearning to crawl back into Salty's arms too unbearable- a discussion with an intelligent old man. I live in a small town. Small for Brazilian standards, average for American standards. In this small town it is common to run into people you know and people you wish you didn't know. As you might guess by now, the story has something to do with running into an acquaintance. at a bar. a high school teacher, no not my own (can you imagine my North Kitsap High School teachers mulling around Indaiatuba?) this was H's highschool grammar teacher, a man, who, i could tell, was very respected by H. After being invited to take a seat the trouble began. To make the story short (though, in retrospect the conversation was quite amusing) i will sum it it by saying that i would not have been one of his favorite pupils had i been lucky enough to be under his tutelage (i am positive that was the first time i have ever used that word.) In other words, the man hated the air i breathed. why. one was most likely the fact that i had an opinion. the second, that i learned only later in the conversation was that i was female. and finally, that i wouldn't accept a roast of my native language. When i meet new people, the first question is always, do you like brazil? and my answer is always, mais ou menos- more or less. is that so? yes. i will describe the things i like. and the things you don't like? those always seem to get me in trouble.

The list is not long, but it is powerful. matters of justice, matters of public safety, equality--and my favorite, solutions to these problems. you don't think about these things during your first year in another country, but as time goes by, they are more visible than the sun. and yes, i have an opinion. while this gentleman was not the first to argue with me (don't get me wrong, i love a good argument) he was the first to tell me that they didn't matter. that these problems were not for me. these were problems of his country and i needed to learn to adapt to them. at this point i pulled out a quote --as i often do when i need someone more gifted than i to help me out-- a quote by one of the most respected men in the world. and when i finished, he threw it to the ground. rubbish. i watched as he spit on the words of the world's greatest ever defender of human rights and i knew. i knew i should write whatever i wanted. Just because i don't praise something does not mean i don't love it. who wants to read a story filled with fruit baskets and coconut water. not me. but getting frustrated doesn't help. words help. photos help. food helps.

You will be happy to know that as the crybaby that i am, i did not shed one tear. Not even after being told that my Portuguese was at a "pathetic" stage for the two years that i have been here.

And so, me with my pathetic Portuguese, i have decided to return to Salty. a new Salty.

And that is the murder story. You might never forgive me, Salty might never forgive me. You might never return. Once a murderer, always a murderer. But for now, i realize i need us. Not because i can't handle a few messy conversations, but because i need more messy conversations to keep my head on straight.

A few parting notes - why the potatoes? no reason. they were in the fridge. dark. natural. boring.

And the final parting note - the scene with the teach at the bar ended quite humorously, and i think you will all agree. When we moved the conversation to food i mentioned how i love bacalhao, cod fish, and how it has an amazing history. my opposition's approach- idiot girl, cod is not a type of fish, it is a method of preservation! your teaching license, good sir, should be revoked.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Chocolate Chip Cookies

and a vacation to Ilhabela-SP

While i had planned on being part of an Easter celebration this year with eggs, chocolates and bunnies, a sort of last minute vacation got in the way. Thank god. Two weeks before the long four day weekend of Tiradentes (a holiday that celebrates a national revolutionary hero, Tiradentes, who was among the first martyrs for the cause of Brazilian independence from Portugal) that happened to fall the day before Good Friday, H and i decided to go to the beach. If you know anything about the state of São Paulo then you know that is a suicide mission. National holiday weekends on the São Paulo seashore are nightmares. Every human with the means to leave the concrete jungle will. not to mention the rest of us in the interior...so heading to the seashore with half a million cars. Brilliant! Somehow we managed to plan the trip strategically though; we left a day before the holiday started and chose a destination that while popular, is not among the destinations of the majority. Ilhabela is an Island just south of the São Paulo coast (you can see it clearly from the city of São Sebastião) and requires a ride on a small flat deck ferry to access. The long drive, ferry and extremely inflated prices of lodging, food and virtually everything on the island does not attract as many people as say the bigger and more affordable destinations such as Santos or Praia Grande. So while there were many visitors to the island during the weekend, it was nothing like Copacabana. Only a few of the island's beaches were crowded beyond our liking (we could never, ever be a carioca when the beaches turn into sheep farms.) While we did wake up at 2:30 on Sunday morning to avoid the five hour ferry wait and seven hour traffic crawl on the continet, the vacation was a wonderful decision and i didn't miss Easter at all. I can say that i have been to paradise, can you?

I really didn't take many photos while on vacation, there's something about just wanting to sit in your plastic yellow Skol chair and not do anything. at all. Well, anything other than drinking caipirinhas, rubbing on bug repellent (Ilhabela is known as mosquito Isle, and i'm still itching) and randomly getting up to jump in the deliciously blue water for a swim. We explored the island, sized up the beaches, trecked through a monkey trail for an hour to get to a hidden waterfall for an icy (dangerously slippery) swim, but in the end there was only one beach where we really wanted be--Praia do Jabaquara. The first day on the island i grabbed a map and decided that i wanted to go to Jabaquara only because it was the very last beach on the circuit that you can get to by car. All of the beaches on the eastern side of the island are only accessible by boat or by a guided jeep offroading expedition. So we drove, and drove and drove. It really is the last destination on the circuit. The drive is about an hour of long and ends on a bumpy, dangerous, dusty rock-filled dirt road that hugs the cliff on the northern side of the island. You really feel like you are never going to get there...witnessed a few cars giving up and turning around...if you are brave enough to scale the monkey trail then you end up at paradise. The beach is secluded, away from cars, roads, everything. And the distance and terrifying drive keeps the number of beach goers way down. White sand, a bar, trees, chairs and open ocean. The chairs and umbrellas belong to the only restaurant/bar on the beach, so if you sit you have to order. But it's well worth it, not just for the shade and seats but for the bathroom and shower. Buy a few drinks but bring a few of your own as well.

We liked Jabaquara so much that on the fourth day we gave up looking for another beach and just headed back with fresh fruit and a bottle of wine in tow. We did end up losing our licence plate on the difficult terrain, but that's ok. Ilhabela was truly the perfect vacation fo us. H and i are travelers and we hadn't been anywhere since Rio in July. 2011 has been extremely busy for both of us; H started a new job and continues his post grad classes and I jumped into language teaching which has taken off a lot faster than i expected. Throw in my photography and housework (yes, i consider housework a job) and it sounds like we're on turbo. I mean, i haven't even been blogging! We're too young to not slow down and do something crazy every once in a while. A little fresh perspective is helping to refuel my Salty motiviation.

We spent most of Easter in the car (from 2:30am-11am) after which we indulged in a very long nap. I realized onlythe day after Easter that neither of us had had an ounce of chocolate. sad. So last night i took out the giant 2.5 kilo bar of baking chocolate at about 9pm and could only think of doing something simple; cookies. I'm not terribly good at baking gluten free cookies, i've gotten my hand in on cakes, pizza doughs and quick breads, but my cookies always disapoint because they end up too crumbly. Tried anyway and threw in a banana in hopes that it might be sticky enough to keep the things together. They were still a bit crumbly, but once cooled they seemed like normal cookies... not something that i would really want to blog about though.

On monday we eat dinner at about 11pm because that's when H gets home. After the fire breathing curry i made for dinner, i shuffled a plate of hot cookies over to the couch. To my surprise, H was giddy; "cookies! you haven't made cookies in forever!" i suppose i haven't, and i suppose i haven't actually baked anything for us in forever either. No desserts in months. We eat no sugar! I was wondering why we were getting so skinny. I love to bake and we love to eat baked things yet i let them dry up. So like with needing vacations, i realized that we both need Salty so we can have a few sweets at least once a month! After coming to this conclusion the cookies seemed so much more regal to me; a cookie, a chocolate chip cookie. Nevermind that it has no butter and is made with whole soy, rice and quinoa flours, it still has chocolate in it. So here it is, on the blog. Nothing special yet it's what shoved me back in finally.

Having the cookies around also led to another excuse for photographing them; to try out my new lens. I shot these with my first ever prime lens, nothing special-i can't afford special, but all were taken with my new 50mm 1.8. If you don't know what a prime lens is it is simply a lens that cannot zoom; it only has one focal length. There are many advantages to a prime lense (quality advantages if you can't afford top zoom lenses like me) but also i needed something with a wider aperture. So lo and behold! $135 on Amazon and i only had to wait a month or two before the aunt of a friend in SP came for a visit from the US. Yes, that's how we buy things in Brazil....

Chocolate Chip Cookies (adapted from Tartelette)

ingredients:

1 cup rice flour

1/2 cup tapioca flour

1/4 cup soy flour

1/4 cup quinoa

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 banana

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup oil (i mixed olive and soy)

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla

about 1 cup chocolate chips or chunks

method:

Mix all the flours together and set aside. Beat the sugar, oil, banana, egg and vanilla together and add the flour mixture. Combine and add the chocolate. Refrigerate until stiff and form into flat disks. Do not cook round balls, this recipe doesn't flatten out very well. Let cool completely before eating or you will be in the midst of a crumbly mess. I don't have xantham gum here so binding agents are always my biggest challenge...if you have xantham gum, add 1 tsp for a better result.

Ilhabela really is a paradise. We declared it our Christmas/New Years/H's birthday/one year wedding anniversary vacation. At least that's how i see it. It's always a bit sad to go home from a vacation, leaving the hot sun (for some reason it was hotter there than farther up north...) and freedom to do whatever on a weekday is difficult. I remember crying and getting really depressed when i was a young girl every time i had to go home after a vacation at my aunt's house or a camping trip to the beach. You grow out of that but there's still a little bitterness when it's time to go home. Over the past year i've not been feeling any bitterness though, and i think it's because while i enjoyed the beach imensley, what made the trip was who i was with. I celebrated my one year wedding anniversary one month ago and i hope i never stop feeling like the luckiest girl on the planet. A friend of mine recently asked for a bit of advice about "moving in" with a boyfriend or husband- i answered with the difficulties that we all whine about, but i also mentioned that the one thing that shadows over all of the negatives is knowing that you're always either going home to someone or someone is always going home to you. Or even better--going home together to eat chocolate chip cookies.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

One Year.

THE ONE YEAR BRAZILIVERSARY

It's official. Today is the day of my first Braziliversary (term coined by Lindsey of Adventures of a Gringa in Brazil). One year without leaving the country; officially the longest consecutive term spent outside of the USofA. Is Brazil finally my home then? Am i a Paulista? If i'm not i pretend i am anyway. Paulista is a state of mind anyway. you'll agree when you travel state to state in this country, like mini countries thrown inside of one large gunny sack. They say (unaccredited web writers and day-job psychologists) that the first year of marriage is the most difficult. Well forget that, it's the first year of expatriatage that is. It's the marriage that saved the later! Obviously since that is the reason we are here. Either way, one year. So what is the verdict? Acclimated to the climate? Accomplish all my goals? Warm up to the wonderful humans known as Brasileiros/as? Do i do as the Romans and sigh, scratch my head and submit? Do i wear a thong on the beach yet? I've somehow accomplished quite a few things, though it did take a while. My timeline was burned to ashes and my patience exploded around the holidays, but like everything in Brazil, the paperwork took a long time to complete. Yes i have an opinion on Brazil and yes i have an opinion on Brazilians, and no i will not wear a Brazilian bikini. Doesn't America celebrate cultural diversity with a ~~crack~~ melting pot theory? American bikini is my culture,so let me be you xenophobic Brazilians!

After much, or rather little self debate with a trifle facebook poll thrown in over whether to make a cake or pão de queijo for the big day (today) i sided with the cheese as we're already scheduled to produce a cake tomorrow. Why pão de queijo? I've already posted it here at Salty, about three years ago when none of you readers were with us (other than parents and B&J) so i'm posting it again. Hey, you say, don't you also have the same recipe in a certain online compilation cookbook that no one bothered to buy? why yes, yes i do. Accompanied by a dramatic story about Brazil? yes! clever you. Moving on, i have a very personal connection to pão de queijo. yes, i am connected to a cheese bread. a soft, gooey puffy cheese bread. so naturally they are an appropriate first Braziliversary treat even though we make them every week. The first time i made them was while i lived in Paris, i posted them simply to surprise and prove to a Brazilian friend of mine that yes i was listening to the 2:00am skype conversation on biscuits and Brazilian pastries...time zones. First physical proof of my cross-continent stalking (what?) abilities. Long story short, the first time i arrived in Sao Paulo, that friend picked me up from the airport and gave me a small packet of pães de queijo. Delirious from the 19 hour plane ride i let them go cold. yes i was scolded for it. Then, the first time said friend came to the US, i made homemade pão de queijo to hand him at the airport. Then when i cam back to Brazil....you get the picture. oh ps my friend and i got married, our love of cheese breads was too great a bond to be separately.

Another reason to post is that i am quite put off by all the "recipes" for pão de queijo i come across in foodgawker. Random recipes (by Americans, Australians, Koreans, whohaveyou) that don't even mention that they are Brazilian, and worse, recipes with wheat or corn flour mixed in, and some made into a liquidous soup in a blender, gah! what blasphemy is this? these people should be ashamed of themselves. But hey, you might say, you are no Mineira, you should shut your mouth. touché. but my buns have already been Mineiro-approved so drop your nose. Yet one more reason to post about pdq is that my father discovered them at a churrascaria in Seattle and had lovely dreams about them. Unfortunately, the ones he had were not the best. The best in the world are the ones at the Rodaviaria (central bus station) in Indaiatuba. true story. my homemade recipe comes in close after. But if you truly want the best pão de queijo, you suckas have to come to Brazil.

Recipe
ingredients: 2 cups (about 250g) polvilho (cassava flour), 1/2 cup milk, 1/2 cup water, 1/4 cup oil, 1 tsp salt, 1 egg, cheese. try for roughly 25g cheese. you can use a mixture of any variety, even farm cheese.
method:

Bring water, milk, oil and salt to a boil. Let cool slightly.

Add the flour and stir, it will be hot and it will be ugly.

Add the cheese (about 1/2 cup cheese, Parmesan, Provolone, mozzarella, whatever you have) and combine as best you can.

Add the egg and kneed with your hands (if not too hot) until a smooth dough is formed.

Coat hands in olive oil and roll the whole dough ball in your hands. Roll small dough balls and place either in a cupcake tin or on a parchment lined tray.

Bake for about 30 minutes at 325. Do not let the bottoms burn. The insides should be gooey but not taste like raw dough.

*if you are in the US, don't buy tapioca starch. it is not the same. it won't taste the same and the texture will be much different. look for a South American imports store or a Brazilian store (there is a shop in the U district in Seattle that sells polvilho) and look for cassava flour.

*once you're a cheese bread making master, addvariety to your buns with chopped herbs, shredded chicken, diced salami, fresh cracked pepper and even apples.

The language. So after one year with zero lesson i somehow find myself able to classify myself as a Portuguese speaker. Sure i sound like an uneducated immigrant, but i am understood and once i have a caipirinha there is no shutting me up. The Portuguese just rambles out like a falling bowl of jello. Usually there are about eight percent French words accidentally added, but who is counting. I can't write worth beans (or rice, ha!) and i am reminded of that daily, particularly when facebook "chatting" with the ten year old cousin who lives down the street. It's da, you said de, that doesn't make sense. Thank you sensei, i will try harder next time. Brazilians "type laugh" by repeating the letter "K," that has never made sense to me. K doesn't even technically exist in the Portuguese alphabet. Anyway, i know it will take many more years before i am through with the offensive mistakes, and perhaps a class on how to write. But that's ok. i leernedd how to speaky yous guys, i speaky!

Here is to a fast, furious and fabulous first year! It only gets better from here on out. There is so much of Brazil to see. While driving from SP to Belo Horizonte a few weeks ago (7 hour drive) i realized how utterly beautiful this country (well, at least Minas Gerais) is to drive through. If driving on Fernão Dias wasn't a constant truck-dash to escape imminent death, it would be quite relaxing. We'll be traveling to the north in a few weeks and i've come to realize that i have already physically experienced more variety of Brazil than i have of the US. Traveling through Brazil is like crossing ten European borders, there is so much diversity and change from one region to another that i really don't think that i will ever run out of new and exciting destinations in Brazil to experience. Digressing, for now---Rainbow caipirinhas tonight!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Banana Republic

Bread, Jobs, Dogs & Rain-because it's been a while

Table topic post warning. I live in the banana republic and yet i don't buy bananas. For the first time in one year we randomly bought bananas on the weekend. It's not that i don't like bananas, who doesn't like bananas. I just don't like fruit that can't keep in the refrigerator. After 1.5 days of sitting on the counter my thoughts were justified. Flies. I absolutely detest kitchen bugs. From little white worms in fresh peppers to small black beetles that drill perfect circles in dry beans, microscopic ants that appear everywhere out of nowhere and of course, fruit flies- kitchen bugs are terrible creatures. So three days of flies and im done. No one is eating these bananas. So i do what every American does, make banana bread.

Normally i would never post about a silly recipe like banana bread. Because, well it is silly. There are too many recipes for banana bread online, in books and in your head (im sure you already have your own). There are even already two old archive recipes of banana bread here at Salty; one here and one here, well that's not really a recipe. But damn that's old. Anyway, to my surprise, this was the first time H had ever had banana bread. Crazy Brazilians, well maybe it's just him. But quick breads (such as banana, zucchini, cranberry, etc) are not very prevalent in Brazil (do they exist? not sure.) And if they do exist, they would be referred to as a bolo (cake) and not bread. This recipe also happens to be gluten free and is surprisingly good. Usually when i bake simply for us, as in no photographs please, i don't use recipes. My gluten free things never turn out "splendid" just "alright, it's better than nothing" so i usually don't measure ingredients or take much note of what i'm doing. But this one surprised us, H could not believe that it was gluten free, mainly because it doesn't crumble and fall apart the second you look at it. A victory for recipe creation. Knocks all my gluten free cakes out of the water. Must be the banana. Banana banana.

The Salty Cod set out the new year with a goal to post "regularly," we even wrote about it in our last post. Unfortunately we have already messed that one up. This time, however, it wasn't because i was being lazy. This time, when i actually had the litte Salty Spirit to keep things fresh, good things started happening. Good things? When i say good things i mean jobs and friends. I am popular! no not really, but lately we've been busy on a social level that we're not quite used to. Parties, bars, dinners, getting lost in SP for an hour and a half (where my gps at) and of course a barbecue or two. At the same time the wine, cachaça and tequila (wha?) was flowing, i entered upon this new thing for me in Brazil, a thing called jobs. H and i both started the new year out with employment luck. H, the ambitious one who already had a really great job, started a new job at a French company; better position, higher salary, closer to home. What i started was a little different, what i started was -- my first photography assignments in Brazil! with an actual publication! It took one year but finally i made a small, yet significant "start" in what i had promised myself when i decided to become an expat and move to Brazil: i am going to go, but i am not going to give up what i want to do, even though it will be harder. Finally, i'm not a failure after all. Will show you the shots and name of publication when it comes out.

Second random job prospect was a call from a language school looking for a French teacher. Note this, they called me. After two visits, a few hours of speaking French (first time in over a year) they finally revealed the "compensation." Let us say now that language schools, unless they are fancy international private institutions, not just chain schools, are not worth any human effort. These places devalue education to the highest degree. Should a teacher make less than a barber? Not a hair dresser, a barber. So well, if i am going to volunteer as a language teacher, i might as well do it at a public high school where i am needed and not at a greedy corportate dime-a-dozen language school. Advice to expats thinking about teaching language here; rethink it, unless you are a skilled public advertiser and offer your own in-home private lessons as a self-employed teacher. My teaching dreams are dwindling. Better make banana bread.

Gluten Free Banana Bread- Pão de Banana

ingredients

1 cup rice flour (white or brown)

1/2 cup polvilho doce (tapioca flour)

1.5 tsp baking powder

100 g butter (about 1 US stick or 1/2 Brazilian block)

2 large eggs

1/2 cup white sugar

1/4 brown sugar

4 medium-small ripe bananas

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp vanilla

1/4 cup ground cashews (or whatever nut)

Method

Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs, bananas, vanilla and cinnamon. Pour all flours and bp in (no need for separate bowl) mix the flours gently on top, then incorporate thoroughly. Stir in the nuts and fill a parchment-lined bread pan. Bake for about 45 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

Before we shove off for today, as this has quickly become a first-person monologue post full of personal details, i want to say a word on the tragedies that have lately fallen on Brazil. As i change the tone and topic completely, i appologize. First, a thank you to all my family, friends and readers who have expressed concern over my safety (as i am in Brazil after all) I can assure you that i am completely free of harm. The areas devasted by the landslides and heavy rain are in the mountainous region of Rio de Janeiro state, an area that in geography appears a world apart from where i am in the São Paulo interior.

From this tragedy, a wave of international articles, discussion, comments and opinions have surfaced that at times is a bit unjust. Aside from the fact that many Americans apparently are unaware that Rio is in fact quite distant from the Amazon (opposite sides and corners of the country) and that natural disasters don't only happen in "poor third world" nations (waht about Katrina?), one small, insignificant comment i read on a news article somewhere made me cringe; "Oh, poor dog, people in developing countries like Brazil don't value dogs like here." This comment is in reference to a photo of a dog sitting next to a grave. Is this what people think? For some reason i can't let this go. So i must write.

There is a video of a stranded woman being rescued via rope from a rooftop as water cascades around her. This clip was shown on American news channels (so i have been told) repeatedly. The heartbreak of the video is that the woman is forced to drop her dog, Beethoven, in order to hold on to the rope and save herself. Another viral image is of a dog sitting next to a grave. These images make it very clear that the floods in Rio are not simply a human tragedy, but a tragedy for every living thing in the area. To me, these images show a clear dedication and love for dogs and animals. Brazil is full of dogs, both those in the home and on the street. There are many street dogs here, however, there are many street dogs in US as well. The only difference is that the animal catchers only come if they are called. So the homeless dogs, who after a while are not really homeless but are rather residents of the streets or parks, are never taken away. One such dog has his own house on the corner of our street. He has a small bowl and the neighbors make after-dinner donations at his small door regularly. Lack of value in dogs? Perhaps Brazilians value dogs more as they realize that if they can't afford to feed them then they shouldn't take them in. An idea that many Americans would benefit from. For those that can afford, there are pet shops, cleaners and vets on virtually every corner.

Dogs are not valued in underdeveloped countries. Tell that to the homeless man who shares his small meal with his dog. The dog is man's best friend wherever you are. They make no distinction between rich or poor and love their human companion for who they are not for their class rank or lack of shoes and in return they are loved like family, and we all know what the Brazilian family is like. This is the never ending struggle against the international stereotype, the developing third world, the banana republic. Will the world ever wake up and actually see Brazil? Maybe someday when the media shows something other than crime, death and tragedy to the world. But this nation is healing itself; the people have come to the aide of the people and volunteer forces and donations are pouring into Rio from every corner of the country. So is that developing or developed?

If you have not donated already to help the mud slide survivors (and the dogs) and wish to, there are many online websites to make donations from including The Brazil Foundation, Visão Mundial and the Sao Paulo Red Cross. If you are in Brazil, you can donate items to the rescued animal fund at Animais Desabrigandos.

a bientôt

Saturday, January 1, 2011

A New Year

Copacomplainer? And the Year's Goals

A new year, already. 2011, Salty is getting old. Have I really already been in Brazil for one month short of a year? I'm going to miss 2010. My celebration this year was not to ring in 2011, but rather to celebrate what was 2010. Moving to Brazil, getting married, starting a different life and navigating though it. 2010 was an amazing year. 2010 was a learning year full of struggles, tears, confusion, laughter, smiles, frustration and love. And we got throught it. So if ever there was a successful year, it was 2010. Can 2011 be as good? Yeah, we think it can. 2011 is going to be the push year. 2010 was the adjustment year, and 2011 will be the push year. We know we will continue to adjust forever as long as we are in Brazil, but after a full year, a full circle around, we are a little more preapred, hardened and ready for the next year in Brazil.

2010 was an adjustment year for Salty as well. When Salty was born in 2007, he was a combination between journalistic food writing and food "discoveries" in Paris and other European cities. During the year in Paris, Salty moved slightly away from food and centered around European adventures and daily life in Paris. In other words, it was an expat and travel blog. After returning to the US, Salty mutated back into a food blog. In 2010, Salty once again altered his tone and slowly has become more personal, more "diary blog like" about my life in Brazil. That is, Salty is your average expat blog that attempts to honestly report the personal trials of life in a foreign country. The difference with Salty this time is that food is used to tell those stories through, and that is the road that Salty will be continuing down for 2011. My life, my triumphs, my hardships. Blogging is not for you, it is for me. If my writing, opinions and feelings are not to your taste, then stuble onto the next blog. There are hundreds of thousands expat and food blogs alone that you can frequent rather than mine. This being said, if you find me to be a complainer about life in Brazil, well, sometimes i am. Rarely, but sometimes. That is our disclaimer. Ninety percent of my posts are positive experiences about life in Brazil, but like life anywhere, there are some things to complain about, some things that are unpleasant and somethings that anger me, sadden me and confuse me. I will write about these things. My Brazilian Christmas was hard for me. And i will repeat the phrase that offended some; Christmas in Brazil sucked for me. What i write about in this blog applies only to me, it does not apply to you and your Brazilian family/experience. That's why you have your blog, and i have mine. So, Salty Cod 2011 is heading for a year of raw ups and downs, and we are not going to sensor it.

Our goals for 2011 are not surprising. Portuguese leads the list. Speaking Portuguese properly is the number one goal. I have improved a lot in one year. Improved meaning going from zero to intermediate level without any lessons or courses. Go me. But i need to push harder. I need to put more effort into the technical Portuguese. After Portuguese is conquering driving. I've finally learned how to drive manual transmission and in the next year will come my drivers license and city driving. After Portuguese and driving are the goals we have for every year; laugh more, smile more, love more and continue to be thankful for the wonderful life i have in Brazil. The final goal is to continue with Salty. Continue to post interesting stories and eye catching photos so that we can keep you all in our life here.

So the new year in Brazil; the second best new year's in my life. For serious. Second because nothing can surpase the bed & breakfast on the San Jaun Islands last year. We planned to go to the beach, but things came up, got in the way, too late in planning and we ended up having the casula new year with the family. But this one was pretty good even though it was nothing special. Big family gathering, but with a little less noise. Good food, good conversations, fireworks and cheap Champagne (sparkling wine) in the street, and a small, quiet New Year's morning breakfast at home with H. Perfect way to start the new years. Apricot clafoutis and lemon scones. All gluten free. My Brazilian Christmas may have been hard, but my New Year's was spectacular. As expats, we have to remind ourselves constantly why we are here. For me, i just have to look at the person next to me and i am reminded. So, 2011, bring it on. Brazil is not for beginners, but one year in, i'm not a beginner any more.

Thank you readers for your support throughout the years. Happy new year to you and your family. As always,

a bientot

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Feliz Natal

Merry Christmas

For a while i decided to pretend that it wasn't even Christmas time since comparing the Christmas that i know to the Christmas here is a very difficult task. I have no Christmas tree, no lights, no candles, no garlands, no fancy table settings, no fancy dinner, no Christmas music, no fireplace, no pizza on Christmas Eve, no five-star Christmas morning breakfast, no eggnog, no excited atmosphere and no family. So, if that's Christmas, then how can i compare a completely different event to it? I can't. Trying to do so is simply asking for saudades; longings.

Stepping out of your zone, moving out of your country is hard on many fronts, as we expats blog about ad nauseum. But there is something about the big holidays that are hard to handle. Particularly when you hear a Portguese "Jingle Bells" that has absolutely nothing to do with the real song. Is it wierd that it makes me angry? Aren't cultures supposed to have their own ways of celebrating? I'll admit, longing for what i know and love has made my view of the holidays here slightly bitter. Fake evergreen Christmas trees at all the stores, plastic scenes of snow critters, a Santa Clause named Papai Noel, Noel? Brazil's Santa is French? Why is there nothing Brazilian about Christmas here, what the hell is a Brazilian Christmas anyways? Grocery stores full of Italian panetonne? Brazilians eat more panetonne than Italians do. Let's breath. I wouldn't feel so bitter and mean if i didn't miss my own Christmas so much. So, i have to stop missing to see what a Brazilian Christmas is actually like. To do so i have to stop comparing, stop judging, stop scoffing and look at it as something unique. Christmas is Christmas right?

It is extremely difficult to say, "a Brazilian Christmas is like this--" It's like saying that all Americans do the same thing for Christmas, when the reality is that some Americans go to Church and have a big dinner on Christmas Eve, and some Americans go to Denny's for pancakes, some go to the movies and eat pizza, some open present on Christmas Eve, some on Christmas morning, some drink spiked eggnog and some sing Christmas carols all night at grandmas. The same thing in Brazil. I have no clue what all families do during Christmas, the reality is, however, that it depends completely on your economic class. This is what is universal around most of Brazil: panetonne. If there is one thing around Brazil that signifies "the holiday season," it's the large cardboard cubes stacked up like building bricks at every single grocery store. Mountains of panetonne, cheap panetonne. I have no idea how dry fruit-studded yeast bread became the holiday it- food, but it is as descriptive of the season as the head-size chocolate eggs are at Easter.

Aside from panetonne, other signs of Christmas include fake Christmas trees in nearly all commercial and public buildings. Christmas trees are not common in most homes due to the cost of ornaments, lights, garlands etc. And honestly, who wants a plastic smelly tree in their house? This is actually ok with me. Evergreen Chrsitmas trees don't exist because they don't grow here. Easy. So give up the fake ones, or embrace lighting a palm tree. I have not seen a single palm tree with lights, people would rather string lights from the top of a pole downward to form a light "tepee" to mimic the triangular Christmas than to put lights on a live tree. I wanted to see a damn palm tree with lights, Americans love that stuff.

My Brazilian Christmas is not the same as all Brazilian Christmases just as my American Chrsitmas is not the same as all American Christmases. There are many wealthy families in Brazil that can mimic an American Christmas quite well. The key word is wealthy. As with all things in Brazil, having access to things common to middle class America is only available to the top classes. Christmas toys, classy decorations and formal sit down with special food for the season is not really possible for the lower classes and most middle class. For our Brazilian family, Christmas Eve IS Chrsitmas. The night started with some Barbecue, yeah the every-weekend style barbecue. There was a roast chicken, and the buffet style everyday foods of rice, beans, mayonaise salad and farofa. To be honest and fair, this is how many Brazilians "celebrate," and if we are "celebrating" Christmas, why should it be much different than celebrating birthdays or other events? Another thing that effects the style of "celebrating" aside from economic status is the volume of people. No matter how much money you have there is no way you can fit 70 family members plus all of the random friends who show up to mooch around a table. Impossible. Flatware, dishes, champagne cups for all? Having an American style Christmas requirees an American-style family, meaning there has to be crowd control. My family Chrsitmas in the US is intimate, immediate family members. Only my sisters, brothers and parents. That number has grown slightly due to boyfriends and husbands, but that's it. It doesn't extend beyond that. An intimate gathering of 10-15 people allows for an American Christmas. A prom-style dance party with 70+ people to feed does not. So, who am i to compare when the logistics simply cannot compute? In the end it is cultural, and as much as i love the openness and group-style "everyone is family" aspect of the Brazilian family, i prefer the intimate closeness of the American family when it comes to gatherings. Gatherings....

One reason my Brazilian Christmas just doesn't do it for me is that i, personality wise, don't like big parties. I don't. Ask my college mates, attending beer-soaked college parties was never at the top of my fun list, and it still isn't. That is how our gatherings are here. Though obviously not a college party, a large group, lots of beer, people shouting, too many children running around and really bad music blairing as loud as the speakers can go is not my idea of a gathering. This type of party is our generic family celebration, and it works. People have a good time, everyone laughs, dances to the Macaraina (what?) and spills beer all over the floor. The problem is that it doesn't really work for me, and especially not on Christmas. The one thing that i am sublimely lucky for in this matter is that this style of celebration doesn't work for my husband either. We sit back and observe, removed from commotion sitting side by side on a rickety old bench under a knarled tree on the sidewalk thinking about a small cozy sitting room with a fireplace, classical Christmas music on the stereo, my family's annoying dogs pacing back and forth hoping for a crumb of a Christmas cookie, my dad drinking black coffee and my mom mixing together the one cocktail which will put her to sleep.

After eating we had a Secret Santa gift exchange between about 50 people. To be honest, it was slightly frightening. The whole lot were jammed into one rectangular room. The noise was indescribable. Children screaming just to make noise, jumping up and down; chaos spiked with fun. For most of the children, this is the only Christmas present this year. The only ones aside from myself who were frightened by the comotion were the younger children crying on their parents' shoulders. The excahnge took over an hour, with each person standing on a rickety wooden chair that only held-tight by the grace of god and yelling out the name of their Santa. My favorite exchanges were those with beer-in-hand. A few children lucked out with hot wheels, remote control cars and soccer balls, but a few recieved the dreaded clothing. The highlight of it all was seeing how happy the kids were; for people who don't know anything different, their tradition is everything to them.

So what's with all the cookies? There are no Christmas cookies in Brazil. I mean, there really aren't any cookies in Brazil any time of the year. So as an American, I thought it would be novel to introduce the children to the Christmas cookie. I spread it out over three days; hand cutting gingerbread men, baking the most American treats possible--brownies, chocolate chip cookies, ginger snaps, snowcaps, chocolate covered shortbread, peppermint pinwheels and jam thumbprints. Making Christmas cookies was, without a doubt, the most Christmassy event this year. H even helped out on the last day, he stirred the brownies and balled the cookie dough. The cookies were received with awe. That is, the gingerbread men were referred to as biscoitos de Shrek; Shrek biscuits. Aiai, Christmas. I have never made so many cookies at the same time before, 300+ was quite a cookie triumph. Particularly in 90 degrees. My cookie buffet has already been requested for a Christmas party next year. Go me.

So this is my Brazilian Christmas. Nothing like a Christmas i know. Today is actually the 25th, the actual day of Christmas. H and I are eating pizza, watching some old 1960's film and drinking caipirinhas. So i was right all along to not try and recreate Christmas. It's just a day after all. No decorations, no presents, the most non-commercial holiday season i have ever had. Yeah it makes me homesick for the US and my family, but i still wouldn't change my choice to live in Brazil. Brazilian Christmas sucks. But, i get a three day weekend with my husband, sun and a trip to the beach in a few days. This "holiday" season did not consist of shopping trips to the mall or decorating the house, but i finally learned how to drive and finalized my green card status. Life is different, but that's ok. I can still make cookies.

a bientot

Friday, November 5, 2010

Baby Cookies - Biscoitos de Bebê

oi bebê

I know it's been a while. Is there anybody still out there? The truth is, we just haven't been inspired to post anything, and who wants to read words and see photos that are uninspiring? That's what i thought. October came and went. Brazil elected a new president; a woman. How about that. Brazil is moving forward, the U.S. seems to be moving backward. I timed my exit fairly well eh? It is now officially hot, officially spring weather. Warm rain and lightning are guaranteed nearly every day. Months don't mean anything to me anymore, i look outside and the word November is the last thing that comes to mind. I am finally after nine months at an intermediate level of Portuguese, as in i can actually hold a conversation without staring at a wall. This is attribute to surprising rise of dinner parties. Yes. Now i am no master cook, and i know we always talk about baked sweet goods, but i am probably a more creative chef than i am baker. While in the US i may simply be an average cook, here i am a chef. I never make rice and beans since i am certain that my husband eats them everyday at lunch and i know that any family meal i attend on the weekend there will be plenty. So we stick to a more international menu. As such i have gotten myself into trouble since every time we invite people over or we are invited over, i am asked to make risotto. Yes, in someone's kitchen. I am the take home chef without the accent. Well, i suppose i do have an accent don't i. Either way, i have become an entertainer and i love the control. wait, what?

On most weekends we visit family members, which is particularly easy since they all live within five minutes walking distance. Either way, this is a big family. My mother in law has nine siblings, and five of them live in the same house that their father built each with their wives and children. In the same house. Crowded and uncomfortable? The truth is they are happy though, it's like have a bunch of live-in moms and dads and about twenty siblings rather than one or two. The amount of people ensures that there is a party even without inviting guests, all you need is meet on the grill and motorcycle-delivered beer. Despite their poverty, this family contains some of the most genuine people i know. They are happy with what they have, and they've accepted me since the first day i showed up with my blond hair and oh-look-at-me-im-american-isn't-that- great? Some of my favorite peeps to talk to are the children. They seem to understand my Portuguese better than the adults. I'm a favorite among the five to seven year old girls, why i am not sure, as well as all of the thirteen and fourteen year olds who take a few days of English in public school. Unfortunately the only lessons they want from me are swear words. please don't say these things in class, ok? The sad part is that their teacher probably wouldn't even understand if they did cus in class. Public schools have the worst of everything, primarily because the individuals who actually are qualified to give lessons in English or any other subject aren't up to the idea of living in abject poverty, which is what one earns on a public school teacher's salary. Think teachers in America have it bad? As seen in the last election, public education is one of the main things that keeps Brazil in the third world. I mean, there aren't even school buses for christ's sake. Who wants to put their six year old all alone on a public city bus to school? Brazil is coming far, but it still has a lot of work ahead of it.

Moving on to these cookies. Surprise! A baby! Not my baby, but yet another cousin who is most likely going to be the last cousin born because the oldest of the cousins are already starting to have their own babies. He is the sixth child of one of the uncle families and is joining three brothers and two sisters. Being the sixth child born generally isn't anything special in a family that has so many kids and babies that there still are a few who's names i don't know. But regardless of number, a sixth baby is as fun as a first baby. I have five siblings as well, and when the sixth baby was born in my family, it was just as exciting as the fifth and fourth. Can't really remember the others...So to welcome the new baby we made teeny tiny baby blue cookies as well as green turtles. Why? Mainly because royal icing sugar cookies don't exist in Brazil so they are "new" and "exciting," i prefer homemade gifts, and i am certain that when the baby comes the "party" will be the usual meat and beer. So cookies are absolutely necessary.

I am not a big cookie decorator, i never have been. As i piped each one of these i realized that the reason was most likely because you have to be an artist to decorate cookies. If you can't paint, if you can't draw, then you can't decorate cookies to look anything better than a gingerbread man. It is difficult, it's painting with a piping bag. So my advice to new cookie decorators is to start out very simple and use a #2 tip. My sister is an artist, and after making these i realized that she needs to make more decorated cookies. Hear that R? Cookie decorating isn't really baking, it's painting. One last tip; only use egg white royal icing otherwise you are wasting your time. I will not post a recipe as the web is exploding with far too many sugar cookie recipes, tutorials and royal icing recipes. So google away.

Life is starting to become more normal in Brazil, at most times i forget that i am even "somewhere else," this normaling out, we hope, is exactly what we need in order to rehydrate Salty. Until then,

a bientôt

Monday, October 11, 2010

Grape Juice and Wine

what and where to buy in Brazil

Brazil is not generally considered a country with a deep viticulture, at least not with all the sexy caipirinhas and golden sweet-water beers the land is so famous for. At least famous within the country for. But as for the continent, the wines of Argentina, Chile and even Uruguay have grown over the years in popularity among the world wine conoseurs, finding their place among those from France, Italy ann Nappa Valley. Living in South America, i have a much greater access to the wines of South America as 1) i am not distracted by the local Washington, Californian, Australian and French wines that were actually affordable to me while in the States and in France and 2) there is a much greater variety of them here to choose from. We are neighbors after all, and the import duty on South American wine appears to be lower than those from Europe and North America. So after eight months of having only (like it's a bad thing) wines from Argentina, Chile, Uruguay and Brazil, i don't find myself missing French wine, Washington wine, or Australian wine at all, and i've managed a list of quite a few goodies, and baddies, for wine lovers on a middle class budget, because that's what we drink on. As for Brazil itself, drinking wine in Brazil takes skill, stealth, lots of plugged noses and a plea to Bachus for your sanity. There are two things to remember when ordering drinks in Brazil: never order a single glass of wine anywhere, and never order a latte with a flavoring. Just don't do it.

In Brazil, there is a small pea shoot of a selection that can be considered wine, the rest is suco de uva, or grape juice. In much of Brazil, wine means juice that gives you a buzz. You go to the store and you have three options: vinho seco, vinho meio-seco, or vinho sauve. Alright so you got that seco means dry and meio-seco demi-sec, but the literal Greek translation of suave is possum vomit. It's true. It's actully a bottle of Welche's mixed with a cup of sugar, a bit of acid and some type of rubbing alcohol. To top it off, it's kept in the fridge. I'm not exactly sure how it's made. The suave wine is so sickly sweet it has to have been fortified with sugar. Good heavens, you're asking yourself, when did she become such a snob?

The truth is, we're not snobs, we just like wine. The Editor makes reference often to the fact that until i showed up on the doorstep, he didn't give a care for wine. It's considered a pretentious, snobby upperclass beverage. Out of my league, he explained to me. Good thing i changed the errors of his ways. We usually spend between 10 and 15 reais per bottle of wine. Before he was born again, he too was victim to the sticky sweet grape juice that averages between 3 and 10 reais a bottle and is available at most bars, gas stations and grocery stores. Not that great of a difference in price. That is because the problem is not due to the price, the problem is in the taste. For some reason the majority of Brazilians appear to prefer sweet wine. Even the more expensive varieties of suave are displayed first among the wine setups at grocery stores, and when ordering the driest wine you have while grabbing the waiters shirt in an iron fist at a restaurant, suave is likely to be the only choice available. They actually like it. For a case study example, say i purchase a merlot from Argentina and give my mother in law a taste. To me, merlot is already one of the sweetest or rather fruity red wines in reasonble meaning of the word "sweet", yet when she tastes it her face scrunches up and she wants to add sugar. All of this goes to say that the real wine market, meaning wine for the sake of wine and not for a cool sweet grape cocktail, has a relatively small public in Brazil. However, as more and more Brazilian vineyards put out quality affordable wines, the more the Brazilian taste buds change (hopefully).

The majority of Brazilian vineyards are located in the south of the country in the state of Rio Grande do Sul. The Serra Gaucha, Campanha, Sao Joaquim, Serra do Sudeste and Vale do Rio do Peixe regions predomenantly grow Bordeaux varieties of grapes and produce a huge spectrum of wines both in quality and price. Ironically, the majority of the wine we buy casually due to both price and taste, come from northern Brazil in the wine region Vale do Sao Francisco. Controlled wine production is still young in Brazil compared to many of the big contenders in the wine industry who have been regulated for centuries, but like the rest of Brazil, it's getting there and at quite a remarkable speed. It may be difficult, and expensive, to find Brazilian wines outside of Brazil now, but in a few years take another look. Or, get a visa and buy a plane ticket.

While dining at a nice restaurant or at a steak house in Brazil, you can order good wines from Argentina and Chile by the bottle for extremely steep prices. Luckily, many quality grocery stores such as Pao de Acucar stock affordable wines, affordable meaning between ten and twenty five reais. If you find yourself lost in the wine aisle of a Brazilian supermarket, look for Argentina and Chile tags. Now, Salty Cod recommendations will not match those found at the fancy pants websites of true wine experts as there is no way i can afford to feed the habit in such a way. As such, our wine list is for the common man who doesn't mind completing a bottle in one night with a pizza and a movie. There are affordable good wines. When buying in Brazil, we recomend Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon from the labels Benjamin and Finca Flichman from Argentina, and Sunrise and Reservado from the Concha Y Toro valley in Chile. Brazilian labels worth looking into include Terranova and Adega do Vale from the northern Vale do Sao Fransisco wine region. If in the mood for celebrating and have a few extra bucks to throw in the bottle, look for Salton or Miolo.

So which vineyard did i go to for these shots? None. These vineyards are about fifteen minutes from my house. The Sao Paulo countryside is full of farms specializing in anything from sugar cane to potatoes to lettuce to mangoes, corn, and of course, grapes. Now to be honest, i would probably never buy a bottle of Indaiatuba wine, but i might buy a box of grape juice. It's amazing how less than two minutes outside of a small yet bustling city are sprawling rows of grapes. It's only the start of spring here so the grapes are only baby greens, but delicious looking none the less. Walking through the grape field reminded me of cutting grapes in the Loire Valley with that little terrier, those are the best kinds of deja vu.

Excuse our month long absense please, we're in the process of searching for a new direction here hopefully for the better. There's too much Brazil to report on to not.

a bientot

cakes, prose, woes -- the photos, food & thoughts of a french-speaking seattle-native in brazil

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Damn It. I Missed April

Monday, February 27, 2012

Hello?

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Chocolate Chip Cookies

Saturday, February 5, 2011

One Year.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Banana Republic

Saturday, January 1, 2011

A New Year

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Feliz Natal

Friday, November 5, 2010

Baby Cookies - Biscoitos de Bebê

Monday, October 11, 2010

Grape Juice and Wine

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