Ice Cream Sequilhos

and a word on the São Paulo Countryside

The first time i tried to make corn tortillas here i went to the grocery market and stood in the "flour" aisle staring at the mountain of packaged powders. Wheat flour sits on the bottom shelfs packaged in its dusty little paper sack. As your eyes move up the shelf the packaging becomes a little fancier. There are tapioca and corn flours in every form imaginable. Why are there so many names for the same thing? Literally dozens of different "types" based on the size of the grind and what it is generally used for. Ok, i thought, i need corn flour, so something with milho (corn). I see flakes, nope, polenta, nope, hey this has milho in the title--amido de milho, perfect! When i got home and added the hot water to the amido de milho, to make tortillas, to my horror the whole thing turned into a pot of sticky liquid. What? I looked at the bag, i rubbed the remaining powder in the bag between my fingers, well it feels like tapioca, and tapioca usually feels like--crap. corn starch. Reminds me of when i washed my clothes in fabric softener during my whole first week in France.

At least i know what corn starch is now. I have since learned that the corn flour closest to what i need for tortillas is called fuba. Why the hell is corn flour called fuba? I never thought about corn as a top Brasilian food, I always left that one to Mexico and the rest of Latin America. But the truth is, corn has a large spot in the Brasilian diet; it's everywhere! This week i made corn tortillas with salsa, then some roasted tomato polenta, corn on the cob and now of course our feature presentation: corn starch cookies known as sequilhos made into ice cream sandwiches with corn ice cream. I hope to round the corn week off with fried polenta at Grandpa's bar (actually the name of the bar) this friday with a few caipirinhas. hint...hint....

Sequilhos are one of my favorite cookies in Brasil, probably because they are one of the only commercially made gluten free cookies, but that's beside the point. These crunchy, powdery fall-apart cookies are a Brasilian tradition, every body knows em' and you can find them in just about any confectionery or bakery shop. Usually they are quite small, the size and shape of a quarter dollar, a small square, or bent horse shoe. They cost pennies and usually make the front of whatever you happen to be wearing snow white. This is why i love to eat them in the car. Though they are a litle more genuine when coming from a bakery, you can also find them commercially made in the candy/cookie aisle of any grocery store in a large biscuit bag. As they are made of corn starch, they fall apart the second they hit liquid. Particularly fun to dip in hot tea and have it fall all over your lap.

I meant to post about these a few weeks ago when i made them for the first time, but a few things got in the way. What i mean is, my motivation was stolen by Power Ranger Azul, and i also viewed them a bit dull to post about all on their own. Last sunday was my ticket to ride, but then the floors needed to be cleaned. Then Tuesday for Independence day, but it rained. Then i talked to my mom last night about being woe-full and ready to give up photography for something practical, but then she quickly snapped me from it. Then finally today ice cream came to mind. But, then where's the story?

(the cowboy boots above are a product of my bad neighbor-stalking habit. so no we are not hicks.)

A few weeks ago when our friends C & L came to stay the weekend, we went out for quite a few ice creams. En route our guests were fascinated and enchanted by the layout of the town. I've never heard so much praise about our little city before, and from an American at that! The primary astonishment was the fact that this was Brasil. Brasil is a gigantor of a country, and probably the most diverse in every aspect of life from state to state. C had never visited the São Paulo countryside before. She'd been to most of the capitals; Rio, São Paulo, Belo Horizonte as well as the extreme no-wheres in the interior of Mato Grosso state. Ergo the most and least metoropolitan in Brasil, but never the middle. This could almost be somewhere in the US she observed quite a few times. Cute streets, neighborhoods, planned city development, parks, public recreation areas, green spaces, first Brasilian city to be one hundred percent on treated sewers, clean and kept sidewalks, small businesses, beautiful residential areas, a relatively unfrightened and trusting public accompanied by large commercial and work centers in cities but a few minutes away. Their astonishment reminded me that most people, one year ago me included, haven't a clue that places like the São Paulo countryside cities exist. Well, they do. And though they have no beach, they are rated for having the highest quality of life standard of any region in Brazil. Go us.

We live in the city of Indaiatuba (meaning land of palm trees, or something like that). If there was no such thing as traffic, we can technically consider ourselves about 45 minutes north west of São Paulo city. To the north of Indaiatuba is a series of other small cities of the same caliber leading up to São Paulo's second largest city, Campinas. One thing about the countryside cities is that you can breath. The other thing is that there can be a Toyota factory next door to miles and miles of grazing cattle and farmland. The city is quiet, i hear my birds and neighbors talking in the streets all day with kids running around with kites and calling out games to each other. Though the city is bigger than the Seattle burb of Poulsbo where i grew up, it still manages to be a community where you run into people you know all the time. At the park, the grocery store, post office--yes Mr. Rogers was here too.

Aside from Indaiatuba, my favorite cities include the neighboring Valinhos and Vinhedo with their beautiful residential areas, and to my Editor's great surprise, Itupeva, an upstart city that still seems to be covered by quite a bit of vegetation (ok this is really countryside) yet is as beautiful as any fairytale story book with a dumpy little downtown. Valinhos also happens to be the nation's fig capital, and apparently there is a fig festival every year. We will definitely be dragging the fig-hating Editor to that one. When we took C & L to the airport (to São Paulo city), we drove through the Itupeva country side. Vineyards, grazing sheep, rock valleys, orange tree groves, old men on bicycles, chickens running about, large mansions, small huts, winding roadways flanked by bright colorful vegetation--all this with the setting sun. If she wasn't on her way to Canada i'm sure she would have moved in right then. Seeing other people's reactions to this place makes me extremely grateful to live here, the unknown part of Brasil, one of the many many other unknown parts of Brasil. When you get here, Brasil will surprise you. I promise.

And so the ice cream. There are a lot of great ice cream shops here in Brasil with classic flavors you may like and a few more that you may be afraid of. One of my favorite flavors in Brasil is corn. There's that corn again. Corn is treated as a sweet quite frequently in Brasil; corn juice, corn cakes and cookies- and of course ice cream. Though odd to American taste buds (yeah i tried making it for my family, was not a very big hit) it is a popular flavor in most of South America, South East Asia and the Pacific Islands. You can find it anywhere; in the super market, ice cream shops, corn shops (for serious) and it is very rewarding to make on your own. However, i still prefer my very first taste of corn ice cream in Brasil: at the highway-side stop off known as the Corn Castle. Soft-serve in a cup prepared for you by under enthusiastic teenage women who can't believe they work in a place called the Corn Castle. It is the only road-side stop worth getting off the highway for. There is even a corn playground for the kids! The flavor grows on you, and after a while it seems more refreshing than most flavors.

This recipe for sequilhos is slightly different than traditional recipes--i needed them to be a little softer and cake-like so that they can be bit into double layered and not squeeze ice cream everywhere. So this recipe has an added 1/4 cup of medium grind corn meal to soften the cake. Leave out the corn meal if you want it crisper. These are also about 5X the size of usual sequilhos, a cookie is a cookie right? Roll them into small balls about the size of a grape for traditional sequilhos.

Sequilhos:

Ingredients: 400 g corn starch, 1/4 cup corn meal (fuba), 1/2 can of condensed milk, 1 tbsp melted butter, 1 tsp baking powder, 2 beaten eggs, 2 tbsp sugar.

Method: 1) mix together the starch, corn meal, sugar and baking powder. 2) Add the condensed milk, eggs and butter. 3) Mix until combined. You will have to use your hands as it is thick. If you want to flavor the sequilhos, add extracts, shredded coconut or even fruit puree. 4) roll small ball and press flat with a fork. 5) bake for 15 minutes at 375 degrees Fahrenheit.

If you want to make corn ice cream, i have posted the recipe already here at Salty, please go here for it.

So a sunny day in the almost-summer of the São Paulo countryside; on tuesday it rained for the first time in three months and washed the sky clear. Never before had i ever wanted it to rain so badly. Today is quite warm, making shooting ice cream extremely difficult as i enjoy using my new 8gb memory card to its fullest, however, melted puddles are not attractive. September is so different on the bottom half of the globe. But i miss the leaves and the Fall. But summer time birds and pink flowered trees, well it's a good substitute. Until then,

a bientôt

oh and ps. hi Sierra and yes i will make you these cookies next year.

Pumpkin Cakes for Robin Hood

house guests and apparently quite a few photos of eggs

It's been a while that we've been away (from Salty), and trust me we apologize. No excuse making today though because quite honestly i'm not sure where the inspiration or drive went these past three weeks; out the window, down the hill and into the river. There were a few things planned, and a few kitchen failures that weren't planned. Lots of undesirable work to do, and a cold to get over. I didn't even know you could get a cold in Brazil. Lucky for us, however, the winter season is just about up, a few more weeks and it's officially spring. September bringing spring; for me September always brought fall, brought school, brought leaves and cooling weather. Now September is time for the beach! The sun is out and the trees at the park are starting to sport some beautiful but albeit bizarre fruits. This change in temperature is bringing with it a change in my mood, now i feel like i'm in Brazil again.

Exciting news folks; we've been living in our house for five whole months and we are officially having our first houseguests; refugees! No not really, but they very well soon could be. The internet, blog, social networks and all that yada have brought me more friends and people i care about than i can count. Our guests this weekend we haven't actually ever met, though maybe we have depending on the definition of "meeting someone". I met Corin (i use her name because it's plastered all over her blog) by stumbling across her Brazil blog in the city of Belo Horizonte in the state of Minas Gerais--about an 8 hour drive from where i am. I love coming across other expats in Brazil, and the majority of men and women i find usually are here for the same reason as i am--married a Brazilian. However, Corin's story is quite a bit different from mine, she and her Brazilian husband are here in Brazil as exiles from the United States. Exiles? Corin is an American, Smith graduate, has lived in France, is a Fulbright Scholar with acceptance into UBC's PhD program, and she is exiled. Like Robin Hood? Sounds romantic and exciting. She technically is not the one who is exiled, her Brazilian husband who entered the United States without proper papers and remained for a significant period of time is the one exiled...for ten years. Just short of being arrested, Corin and her husband luckily escaped to Brazil where she has been building their escape pod--to Canada!

Immigration is an extremely ill-understood topic in the United States; most people know that it is an issue and that the Mexicans must be stopped before they take over the country with Latin music, Spanish speaking little girl explorers with pet monkeys, and force everyone to start eating tacos (woops, too late), but very few (very few) know anything about what immigrants have to go through to get into the land of liberty and what consequences are placed upon those that toy with the rules. Marriage to an U.S. citizen has always been the classic "Get Out of Jail" card in the immigration game, marry and get a green card, easy. Unfortunately it's not so easy. Being married to an American is only a means to getting a green card and not a green card in itself. Many immigrants who entered the country unofficially live normal lives, and from that make normal relationships. When you marry you except that to help legal status, sadly wrong again. Illegal immigrants have no rights. If caught, an illegal immigrant is deported regardless of who they are married to, whether or not they have a home, children, a yard with a white fence and a golden retriever. So what do the families of those forced to leave do? Well, they either follow or face the impossible life of staying in the U.S. alone. For this reason there are hundreds of American citizens living abroad in the world with their outlawed family members, and Corin is one of them.

I chose to move to Brazil. I keep that little cookie in my head at all times when i am flustered, screaming about injustices, angry at grocery markets, postal workers, the weather, the family everything. When youre an immigrant even the smallest things that shouldn't bother do; and my best way out of a tear-filled rant is to remember that i made this my reality because i want it. I am very much a we-make o-our-own-choice Sartre kind a person, so it's difficult to think about American exiles having to go through the same things that i am only they don't have that nugget of comfort knowing that they made the choice and planned their fate. Many people call me brave for moving to Brazil, but exiles are yet braver. I don't now how they do it, and there are many of them. Mostly in Central and South America; Brazil, Peru, Mexico--their stories are generally unheard, however, i believe that if more Americans knew what was going on with the state of their immigration problems, they would call a little more adamantly for reform. The U.S. has that edge that many countries don't, when the people are all behind it and call for change, usually change comes. This is pretty much absent in Brazil where silence and acceptance is the cultural norm, but we'll save that for another day.

The Reason Robin Hood and Little John are visiting us for the weekend is that they are technically homeless at the moment waiting on visas (one student and one dependent of a student) from the Canadian consulate for their Sunday flight (three days from the time that i am writing this) to Vancouver. That's 1.5 days to try and get visas that have been pending for three months to issue. They bought their plane tickets and applied for visas three months ago upon recieving word that Corin was accepted into the University of British Columbia's PhD program. They packed up their appartment, sold their appliances and are flying to São Paulo three days before their flight in hope that they can secure a visa from the Canucks with pouty eyes and pretty pleases. Ballsy? Sounds like Robin Hood to me. If there is no visa, there is no flight.

When i asked her about a week ago where she would be staying in São Paulo, the answer was "I dunno yet." Again with the rogue adventurer bit. So obviously the only place then for them to stay was with us, in the country side with a full size oven. With a plan so far down to the wire it's almost underground; we have no idea how it is going to play out. Realistically all H and I can do to help is act as taxi, hotel and make as many wonderful gluten free foods and sweets (she's gluten free, imagine that, finally someone to enjoy my pizza dough of perfection) as possible. If the plan doesn't work and the Sherriff of Nottingham denies--then we'll be housing refugees. But let's hope it doesn't come to that.

So, i made cakes for car snacks. Pumpkin cakes to celebrate the last week of winter. Technically i suppose these are buttercup squash muffins, however, Brazilians simply call them pumpkins. Very sweet, tiny seeds, and gluten free.

Ingrdients: 1/2 cup white rice flour, 1/2 cup tapioca flour (not starch), 1 tsp baking powder, 2 eggs, 1/4 cup oil, 1/2 sugar, 1/4 cup honey, 2 tsp cinnamon, 1 tsp vanilla, 1/2 cups mashed pumpkin or squash.

Method:Boil pumpkin chunks in water until soft. Drain and mash. Cream together eggs, sugar, oil and vanilla. Add flours, baking powder, and stir. Mix in the mashed pumpkin. Divide into 12 cupcake tins and bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 15 minutes. (you can roast the seeds inside the pumpkin and sprinkle them on top before baking).

Dealing with visas, consulates, paperwork and anything that has to do with immigration is frustrating, frightening and nerve wracking even for those who follow the book and have nothing to worry about. For those who very likely could face rejection or added complications, the stress is worsened ten fold. What is most frustrating about it all is that we did this to ourselves as humans. Immigration doesn't have to be like this. This planet is so very small, how can we expect everyone to be satisfied within borders and lines? Should humans be treated as criminals along the same lines as murders, rapists, thieves and abusers simply for moving their geographical coordinant from one spot on this planet to another?

The main argument against illegal immigration is "why can't they just do it legally and get a visa?" the reason is that they can't do it legally. U.S. imigration is a severely costly endeavor designed that way so as to keep as many as possible out. Legal immigration visas, green card and the works averages from almost $2,000-$3,000 US. Apparently i can't even afford to immigrate to my own country! Those who enter illegally risk a lot, however, for many there is no other choice. For now, all i can do is write about it right? Education is the first step, as always. But i want America to get angry, or better yet the world. The world is getting smaller and smaller yet every nation is trying harder and harder to keep people out.

In spite of it all, we are determined to have a great weekend with pizzas, quiche, wine and happy hours. After all, if everything goes as planned, this is their last weekend in Brazil!

If you are interested in reading and following up on Corin's full story, visit her blog, Corin in Exile.

a bientôt

A São Paulo Dinner Party

rice flour chocolate cheese tarts with gooseberreis

So like most normal people, i try to have a social life here in Brazil aside from the daily conversation i have with my three sunflowers that have managed to grow, my facebook and the tweeter. I'm sure a psychologist would try to tell me that electronic friends are not real eh? Well, in self-placed solitude they are. The social life; so in six months i have actually managed to make my own friends here, all of whom i came in contact with through this blog. Cod fish really are social buterflies. Salty is how R, my wonderful Brasilian friend, found me by reading through my earlier posts on gringo "transition". It's interesting to hear how people stumble upon Salty, whether looking for recipes, travel descriptions, recipes for salt cod (there aren't any), or in R's case, the expat thing as she is married to an Irish gringo. After a bit of chat, we realized that we all had a lot in common aside from the fact that they live in São Paulo city (one hour away); we've been through all of the same garbage concerning the immigration (ok, marriage) trauma in Brazil, we despise the Brazilian style of "wine" that the masses prefer (cold sweet grape juice crap), we're travelers, love dessert, and can all speak English. Wow, best friends right! Though i know i need "social portuguese", my language level is not yet at that of a cocktail party, so it is a gift above any to feel normal for even just one evening every now and then. I'm determined to make it so that eventually we all drop the English during a gathering, just not yet. Friends through the blog; score one more point for Salty.

As humble youngsters living in an expensive country (you didn't think Brazil was expensive?) we decided that the last get together we had at a charming, yet overpriced French restaurant need not be repeated yet. Brazilian restaurants are very expensive, however, as is the case in most areas, cooking at home is not. Now, R doesn't cook (J is the chef of the casa), therefore to remedy the apprehensive situation, we did an in-kitchen cooking lesson on the easiest dish of them all--risotto. Brazilians love risotto, it's on the menu at nearly every medium to upscale restaurant for murderous prices. People are willing to pay top dollar for it because they have it in their brain that they can't make the same thing. eeeeh wrong. Yes i cook, and quite often, surprised? Will Salty turn into a cookery as well? who knows. But risotto is something i do extremely well. Not to be conceited, but i will say it is a Salty specialty. Digressing, whether the lesson stuck (next lesson will be about simple red sauce) or not, that was the largest pot of risotto i have ever made. I'm starting to think that i really love to "teach" or rather go in somewhere and cook for someone, whether it's for my own ego or not (no i don't want to be the next Curtis Stone) but i'm really starting to feel that Brazil needs me, whether they know it yet or not. Now to the point of this post here, chocolate cheese tarts with gooseberries.

All food bloggers out there know that when there is an event there is a post. For the non-professionals who don't have unlimited budjets and time to spend on making posts (idea, baking, photographing, editing, writing, and more editing) blogging becomes somewhat of a rare treat that neads an excuse in order to occur. I have no less passion that i did before, the only thing that is less is time and money. So when there is a reason to make something special, bingo.

I was at the grocery market purchasing a few packaged things to send in the mail to a gal in Minnesota for the Transplanted Baker's farmers market exchange (note: if you live in a country that is not the United States, don't sign up for events that require shipping food out of the country because the majority of participants will be in the U.S. and not need 3 weeks to a month for ground shipping. The customs officials already hate me, and now i'm trying to weezle them again. verse.) and i spotted, tucked off in the corner, some little golden leaves. Wait a minute, i thought, i ripped the plastic cover off of a carton, gooseberries (note: these are a different variety than their darker north american cousin). Now wait, in a country without a single raspberry, blackberry, cranberry, or blueberry (actually just spotted a few from Argentina, YES blueberries grow in Argentina), there are imported (cape) gooseberries for sale? Touché Brazil. The carton noted that they were grown in Colombia, so there we go. Colombian fuzzy gooseberries. So start importing raspberries from the north why don't you, please! A week later when thinking about desserts i could only think about the gooseberries; finally someting other than banana and guava! Who ever thought i would complain about tropical fruit. (note: the only reason i pine after berries is because i love and miss them, there are thousands of wonderful fruits in Brazil, but when you're away from everything you know, well, you want berries! Particularly the berries that used to grow in your backyard.) The plan was New York style cheese cake with the berries, the problem was lack of sour cream in this country, and to be honest, no real equivalent (it's just how it is, same thing in France and many many other places). So as to Brazilianize it, we replaced the sugar and sour cream with condensed milk, which happens to be what Martha Stewart also does in her no-bake cheesecake recipe. But that's the rule; all you have to do is put condensed milk in it and you've made it Brazilianized.

Let's see if you're like me; when i hear the word gooseberry i think of Snow White making gooseberry pies for Grumpy. You follow? They are very tart, but very distinct looking. Distinct looking is all we care about right? Right. Leaving the leaves on serves absolutely no purpose other than presentation, in my opinion, their little chapeau is quite cute. The tart crusts are made of rice flour and polvilho, which is a soft tapioca flour. The cheesecake is simply cream cheese, condensed milk and lemon juice. That's it; a simple, refreshing winter dessert made in miniatures and one large tart (6 small and 1 8-inch round). The thin tart layer of cheesecake was much more palatable than the thick 2-3 inch layers of traditional cheesecake, especially as it was more creamy and less stiff due to the condensed milk. All consumed by five people: yes.

Tart Shells (gluten free)

Ingredients: 1 cup rice flour, 1/2 cup tapioca flour, 1/2 cup powdered sugar, 1/4 cup cocoa powder, 1/4 cup cooking oil or 1 stick butter (i actually used olive oil), 3 egg yolks, pinch of salt.

Method: beat powdered sugar and the butter or oil, add the yolk. Add the flours, cocoa powder and salt. Stir until combined (if not using kitchenaide mixer you will need to use your hands). Roll the dough tightly into a ball and wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least one hour before pressing into your tart shells. Base at about 350F for 15-20 minutes.

CheeseCake:

Ingredients: 8oz sour cream, 1/2 can of condensed milk, 2 tbsp lemon juice, jelly or mashed gooseberries.

Method: beath the cream cheese until fluffy, add the lemon juice and condensed milk. Set aside. Spread the mashed gooseberries intot he bottom of each tart shell and pour the cheesecake mixutre over the top. Refrigerate for about two hours before serving.

When i get to this part i feel like it's the recap closing sequence; i can see Tony Bourdain ending an episode of No Reservations; looking off into the distance, saying how while the food was great, it as the people who made the experience for him, a few more sentimental life shattering comments, and then the camera bleeds out of focus and we're left to ponder the heartfelt comments. Erm, well maybe he is right. Do not undervalue your friends, because when you start again from zero, you'll remember how important they really are in a human life.

Moving on from sentimental, i really do love simply going to São Paulo. Every time we go, it's a new route and a new city. As one of the largest and most complicated city in the world, strangely enough we don't even have a road map for it. H has never printed out a map for any location, as he was born in the city he believes there to be a São Paulo gps planted in his brain at the hospital. No matter where, the weather, how late or what part of the city, we always eventually get to where we are going, somehow. Some people have it, some people don't; i still get lost in the town i grew up in. Depressing. But despite the reputation, São Paulo really isn't a terrible place for those who are lucky enough to enjoy it for what it is. While it has unending problems, areas of squalor, a smelly river, crime and misery, like Rio it has its character, and is fastly improving. Just in these past few weeks motorcycles are now prohibeted on the express lanes! One small step for man...

Obrigada R&J pela sua hospitalidade!

a bientôt

Just a Few Days in Rio

The Cidade Maravilhosa

We flew into Santos Dumont airport at about 9pm on a Thursday night, less than 1 hour after leaving Campinas, SP. There's an extreme thrill to landing on a tarmack that appears to be floating in the harbor; the vision is plane surfing at top speed. What a wonderful first impression of the cidade maravilhosa. My thoughts returned to that moment three days later as we made our way via bus to the international airport, Galeão, to catch our flight back to São Paulo. If i had flown into Galeão rather than Santos, i would not have thought of the cidade maravilhosa at first impression, but rather of the cidade de deus. Who planned that one? Scenic view for the domestic flights, but a fast-dash tour above the slums on the speed way for the international visitors? Slightly humerous. Either way, my lasting impression is that Rio is in fact, the cidade maravilhosa. While our overcast stay lasted only a few days and was limited mostly to where our feet would take us, the taste was sweet, and has made a certainty of the fact that it will definately not be our last adventure in Rio.

When we decided to take a mini-trip to Rio to visit our friend M in Copacabana, one thing i knew i would be thinking about was the bad safety reputation made all the more worse by the 2016 Olympics and accusative press. So, according to many, Rio is not a safe place for the Olympics. Slums, gangs, drug trafficers, thieves. Ah man ah man. But you know, you probably won't believe it, but there are two Rios. There is the third-world Rio rife with crime that you see in films such as City of God, in video games where you shoot drug traffickers in the run down slums, and on the news when police helicopters are shot down. This Rio of suffering is unfortunately real. But there is also the upscale Rio where one can walk the streets in a bikini on the way to the beach, drink coconut water while lying in the sun, dine at upscale restaurants, take in an opera, shop through the finery, and jog along the shore. This Rio of fancy is also real. Two extremes tucked in right next to each other. As tourists, which we were, we were well contained in the later of the two cities. Was there danger? Maybe. Was i walking in the streets afraid of being shot? Not exactly. Imagine being inside of a sims video game, in a photoshoped city on your desktop, or in a lego land pink palm tree toy set. Rio is the Rio of the glamour movie unless you leave it for a reality check. Walking on the beach is, well surreal. So are the Olympics going to be hell on earth for the visiting world population? No, it is not. Rio is only hell for those who are sadly and unjustly born into it. But how can two cities, two worlds exist in the same place? I don't know. That's Rio.

So what did we manage to do in three days. Well, as we were visiting our friend, the first night was catch up talk and dinner in her 1960's apartment two blocks up from the beach in Copacabana. When i say Copacabana, i'm talking about a district. Rio is split into many district of which famous beachs that lie within also happen to maintain the same name. The whole city is first split up into zones; the historic center (downtown), the South Zone, North Zone, and West Zone. Within the zones are districts, such as Copacabana, Botafogo, Flamengo, Leblon, Ipanema--yeah you've heard of all these famous beaches, but they are named after the districts they're in. There are dozens, probably even hundreds more districts in Rio that i am unaware of. But one that i did spend a great deal of time in was the Jardim Botânico, home of the--you guessed it--botanical gardens of Rio.

As i knew we would only have a few short days in Rio, my mind was made up that i didn't want to do anything except for sit on the beach and do maybe one or two of the you must do this in Rio tourist activities. But M had a few things planned for us. The Jardim Botânico was one of them, which we managed to get to on foot from Copacabana. After walking along the shore through Ipanema and Leblon, and the 7 kilometer -around Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas (a lake), i was just about ready to pull the why couldn't we just go to the beach line, until we rounded the corner and the massive avenue of imperial palm trees came into view. damn. The botanical garden of Rio is truly a lush oasis in the middle of the city. The gardens were established during the first years of the nineteenth century (that is, while Brazil was still under Portuguese rule) as a local for growing foreign spices and exotic plants. The garden is filled with regional, national and international flora from all over the world. In a way, it is a condensed showcase of what is natural and what has come to be natural in Brazil due to importation. The imperial palm trees are the most regal aspects of the park, yet they are not native to Brazil, they were brought straigt from Central America. The jaca tree that produces jaca fruit (also known as jack fruit) runs rampant through the gardens (and much of Brazil for that matter) but was originally brought from Asia by the Portuguese. Aside from being a tranquil rest from the city, the gardens are a living lecture on natural history.

After the gardens, from which you could see the Christ way up on his little hill (Corcovado is the name of the mountain) we decided to find the way up. First step naturally was finding ice cream, and the second finding a bus. We took a city bus all the way to the bottom of Corcovado from which we were herded into the Jesus van by an overenthusiastic sales man. You speaky English my amigo americano, the man said to my husband who since arriving was mistaken as an American at every chance possible. Grrr. how much is it? he asked the man in Portuguese. You speaky a Portuguese? I thoughta you were grigo! He said in astonishment. Poor H, he is no longer Brazilian because of me. The next day i forced him to wear his São Paulo jersey to look more Brasileiro, but that only brought cat calls from Flamengo and Botafogo supporters. Ah Rio. After the bumpy van ride up the mountain, we were deposited at the ticket booth where you wait in yet another line to take yet another bus up to the top where you then go up an elevator and then an escalator. Jesus Christ (literally) it takes quite an effort to get up to see Christ the Redeemer, an icon recognized the world over. The view is unpayable, no where else in Rio can you get a view of the entire city, Atlantic, and all the neighboring hills. Just remember that if you go in the evening on a smoggy day, don't expect ideal lighting for your photos.

After spending R$100 for both of us to get up to the Christ, we decided that Sugar Loaf (Pão de Açucar) could wait until our next visit to Rio. The next two days were spent being lazy, the overcast gray sky and wind helped out on that one. We made it to a music cafe with live popular Brazilian music (that's an actual genre of music) and spent a few cold windy minutes on the beach. That's what you get for going to Rio in the winter. No matter, Sunday was a bit warmer, and awarded a few hours of beach lounging followed by the World Cup final at the "Fan Fest" on Copacabana beach. As Holland was the reason Brazil was eliminated, i can tell you that there were a great many more Spain fans in the crowd. I personally was rooting for Holland, for family reasons. Either way, the Fifa Fan Fest is an enclosed event on the sand (with a lot of security officers) with stalls, vendors, live music, and of course a really big scren on which to view the game. I couldn't imagine how crazy the place would have been if it was Brazil in the final, either way, watching the game with a thousand other people sitting in the sand was definately a once in a lifetime experience, even with the unfortunate outcome.

So Rio, to be honest i was not expecting too much. Before coming to live in Brazil, i never cared for the country or anything in it, so Rio was never one of my dreams. But after a quick glimpse, i can tell that there definately is something to Rio. I never want to live there, that's for sure, but i have no qualms with visiting again, and again and again. The service at the restaurants was extremely mediocre (ok terrible, but i was warned) and the food didn't taste as good as it does in São Paulo (i'm just saying), and the air was a bit (a lot) humid, and without visiting the beach everyday (i suppose even Cariocas have to work) life might not be so great in the city, but there is something charming about Rio, and i'm excited to get back for another visit.

All in all, i'm glad we're in São Paulo state. Cariocas may have the reputation, and the men are comfortable enough to wear Haivaianas outside of the house, but for me that's what vacations are for. I prefer to have a closed-toe shoe wearing Paulista.

Hell yeah that's a monkey.

a bientôt

For Me, A Birthday Cake

chocolate orange brick cake

Today is my birthday, not Salty's, but me, the editor in chief. 24 years old. So i'm home alone today (don't feel bad for me, we're flying to Rio de Janeiro tonight) and well, it's my birthday, so i need a cake. Chocolate and orange is my personal favorite flavor combination, you know those chocolate orange balls at Christmas time that you smash on the table and the slices fall out like a flower petal. Well, as this ws a fridge-cake (absolutely nothing in the fridge) i had to scrounge. And this is what we found.

I'm flying to Rio in a few minutes (literally) so i will leave you with these brief words and way too many shots of my little cake. Ok ok, and the recipe. When we get back from our voyage, know that there will be many stories and photos to share of the cidade maravilhosa.

Ingredients: 1 cup white rice flour, 2 tbsp oil, 1/4 cup sugar, 1/4 cup orange juice, 1 tsp vanilla extract, pinch of salt, 1 egg, 1 tbsp tapioca flour, 1 tbsp milk, 1 tsp baking powder, zest of one orange, chopped chocolate.

Method: Mix the wet, mix the dry, and combine. Add the zest and chocolate and bake at 180C or 350F for about 20 minutes. Makes 6 cupcakes or 1 mini loaf.

Brazilian 4th

Pão de Queijo Burgers and Apple Pie Tarts

Is it odd that i got offended when my husband said that it was completely wierd that in the United States people grill hot dogs? Confused at this point how that is wierd even in the slightest, i try to forget. But then he goes on to say it in Portuguese so now the whole damn room of mothers, grandma, aunts and whoever the hell else happens to be around (a great uncle?) all scrunch their faces at the American oddity. Say what? For a country that doesn't know how to consume meat unless it is encrusted in salt and thrown over flames, they find grilling a hot dog wierd? We boil them, never grill, H explained. This coming from a man eating chicken hearts off of a skewer... Ok, well, you are Brazilian and not American, in the U.S. people grill them. Americans (except for New Yorkers who like them floating in dirty water) boil them only when mom isn't home and dad's asleep on the couch and there's nothing else in the fridge. That's when hot dogs are boiled. In my humble opinion.

Being an expatriate makes you extremely sensitive to certain things that normally would pass over your head like a wonky boomerang. Wait a minute, do i even like hot dogs? But when you're at a barbecue surrounded by a bunch of Brazilians on a Sunday that you were particularly reserving for house cleaning and godforesaken ironing, insults to one of your national foods that are connected to innumerable social and family gatherings since the early days of childhood dig deep. And with the 4th of July just around the corner...

A few days later while driving to the gym, i tell H that the 4th of July is on Sunday and i want to make apple pies. To make up for the trauma he caused me last Sunday (yes, i was wounded) he overenthusiastically suggests...grilling hot dogs too! Now, to be honest i don't like hot dogs, and when i refer to "hot dog" i am actually talking about bratwurst for me, and a ballpark for the little brother. But that point aside, this conversation isn't about hot dogs, it's about why so many Brazilians can't seem to break out of their culinary box. American Barbecues are laughed at, yes laughed at, as hamburger meat is considered low quality and would only be consumed if all other meat had been used up. Well fine, but Americans like steak, they like ribs too, grilled chicken kabobs, etc. The reality is, however, that the majority of Americans like hamburgers, so what is wrong with eating what you like? I like American barbecues and i like Brazilian barbecues, why is it that i can like two versions but others cannot? I hate to say it, but many Brazilians are extreme followers of my way is the best way. It's proven in the restaurant makeup. Now, São Paulo has a lot of great international restaurants, but many smaller cities throughout the state severely lack. A few over-priced sushi bars...a dying $200 a night French bistro....a fast food Arab restaurant...and and....why the hell is Mexican food nonexistant here? You can't even buy ingredients at a store (unless you consider a cardboard box full of a few round tortilla chips for 15 reais Mexican food) then you're screwed. We've luckily found a tapas bar that serves an international menu with a small Mexican section. The only problem is that you're out 35 reais for two little tacos. But good tacos, i'll add. For some reason the demographic here isn't thirsty for more. Most Brazilians simply want Brazilian. I say most as there are some, usually in the newer generations, or what some like to refer to as the "global generation", that do in fact seek out new things. Allbeit a handfull of individuals, but they are there.

There's no point in dwelling on it. I can't change the way people eat. I can't change the fact that i can almost visibly see the arteries swelling in H's step-father as he yells at his wife to make the fried beef and rice and beans that he eats twice a day every day of his life. The only thing i have control over is what's in my fridge, and what i've learned after changing my completely Brazilian-palated-husband into a fan of Indian, Asian, French, German, Mexican, Italian and even American foods is that perhaps all that is needed is opportunity of "the outside" for Brazilians to widen their taste. Mexican chefs are you hearing this? It's time to start immigrating south for a change.

So today, a 4th of July sunday, we're not having hotdogs, but rather hamburgers and apple tarts. A party for two, woo. The term "4th of July" means nothing to Brazilians, well, fair is fair, does the date "7th of September" ring any bells for you? No i didn't think so. Brazilians are masters in the art of reciprocity, a skill that first must be preceded by pride.

I had never actually made a hamburger before, wierd. But it must be like a meatball, and i am a self-proclaimed master at meatballs. For the buns, i made the only error-proof gluten free bread i know of--pão de queijo. They turned out quite nice, and all i had to do was flatten the dough into a large patty shape before baking. Pão de queijo is a tapioca based cheese bread that is naturally gluten free without even trying (go Minas!) and well, burgers usually have cheese in them anyways, so why not just have it in the bun instead? I made the patties like i do my meatballs, mashed with garlic and my own dried chili peppers. Now, as i'm making "American" food, i only made enough for the occasion. That is, for two. After our "4th of July bananza lunch!!" H turned to me, there's no more? only one? sad. My international Brazilian. You see, i am having to learn how to be Brazilian, but he is having to learn how to live with an American. Which one is harder? Either way, at least there were American pie tartlettes for dessert.

For a recipe for pão de queijo i first have to persuade you to buy the cookbook that the recipe is in (yes my recipe). It's not my book, i'm merely a contributor, but it contains over fifty great recipes by other food bloggers so consider giving it a try (see the little 55 Knives button on the right-hand page column for details). For the rest, you can find the recipe here on the Salty Cod, however, i won't tell you where it is, so you'll have to do a treasure hunt for it. Don't be daft and use your brain, every post is categorized with key word labels.

As for the apple tarts, the crust recipe is a gluten free rice flour shortbread created by Aran of Cannelle and Vanilla, view the recipe here. The filling is merely diced apples mixed with a spoonfull of sugar and a squirt of lemon juice.

So the 4th of July came and went, aside from lunch i didn't hear much about it except from an over-boistrous golf television commentator who interupted me from my nap (no we don't watch golf, we accidently left the tv on). I've come to realize that American holidays are to be celebrated in America, and Brazilian in Brazil. This being said, i have decided not to attempt the seeming death defying challenge of a make-shift Thanksgiving. Well, maybe we'll get a pumpkin pie in somewhere. For now, it's when in Rome.

a bientot

A Brigadeiro Army

Brazilian Truffles in Cake Form

How much do you think a brigadeiro cake costs? one of H's crazy aunts asked me last weekend. I don't know, I replied, 50 reais? I don't buy cakes at bakeries so i really don't know, but this being Brazil where everything is overpriced probably a little steap. R$50? she wrinkled her nose in a slight disappointment. Twenty minutes later i learned that that she was actually asking how much a brigadeiro cake would cost me to make. My Portuguese is still in toddler form. Ahhh, a cake order. Our first cake order in Brazil, hot dog. For how many, and when? Next saturday, she replied, for seventy people. Seventy? Oh boy I'm in trouble.

A brigadeiro is a small squishy condensed-milk based chocolate truffle covered in sprinkles. So a brigadeiro cake would be some type of cake covered in a squishy condensed-milk based chocolate coating topped off with sprinkles. Easy enough, i can do that. The first time i made brigadeiro truffles was about two years ago, and happens to be posted here on this exact blog. But a cake for seventy people...foreget it. I'll spread upward but not out; sheet cakes horrify me. Yep, can't do it. Large rounds or squared, tiered if they must be are the only type of large cakes i'll do. Plus, i don't even own a bowl yet so what makes you think i have a sheet cake pan. As a snob, the only answer to cake for large parties is cupcakes. So seventy cupcakes and a large cake to cut into and adorn with candles. Let's do it.

The cakes were done up on friday, which was also a Brazil game, so the plan was to finish baking everything before it started at 11am. One cupcake pan and three boiling pots for mixing and we did it; seventy cupcakes and a three lawyer round all before the start of the game. As this is Brazil, H came home to watch the game...2 hour work day. His excuse was that we (we actually did) had to go to the dentist right after the game. My first dentist visit in Brazil...we can talk about that later. Unfortunately, brazil tied with the colonizers. But that's ok. We had homemade pizza for lunch and a lovely trip to the dentist to follow it.

The brigadeiro army of cakes was for the birthday party of a 13 year old cousin, last weekend was the birthday party of a 7 year old cousin. Not sure yet whose birthday party is next weekend. This family is way too big. Birthday party every week. I have never made this many cakes at the same time before, not even for my graduation party a year ago. My birthday is in about two weeks... i think i will make ice cream instead.

The brigadeiro cake topping consumed four cans of condensed milk. That's a lot of caramel. The cakes are chocolate truffle cakes; meaning that they contain both actual chocolate as well as cocoa powder. Brigadeiros are about as famous as the pão de queijo is in Brazil; traditionally brigadeiro is a birthday party staple, but they can be found pretty much year round at any bakery. Or, you can spend a few pennies and make your own. Brigadeiro truffles are usually rolled into balls and then covered in chocolate sprinkles, but there is nothing wrong with simply eating it on a spoon.

Chocolate Truffle Cake (makes one dozen)

Ingredients: 2 cup flour, 2 tsp baking powder, 1/2 cup butter, 1 cup sugar, 2 eggs, 2/3 cup milk, 1/2 cup cocoa powder

Method: Mix together the dry ingredients. In a seperate bowl, whip the butter, eggs and sugar. Add the dry mixture and milk alternately to the wets. Pour in muffin cups and bake at 350F for 20 minutes or until done.

Brigadeiro

Ingredients: 1 can condensed milk, 1/4 cup cocoa powder, 1 1/2 tbsp butter

method: Mix all ingredients together in a pan and bring to a boil over low heat stirring constantly. Unlike in my last post where i suggested to cook the brigadeiro for 15 to 20 minutes, the number has dropped to 5, somehow. Remove from heat and stir briskly. Allow to cool for about five minutes and and then top and cupcakes or cake and top with sprinkles immediately.

The awestruck look on all the faces of my new little cousins' was enough to justify the entire day spent smothering brigadeiro on the top of seventy little cakes. Cupcakes aren't big yet in Brazil, in fact there are many who have never had a cupcake. Today we helped to fix that even if only for a few. When the kids crowded around the table H turned to me and said, now you've won the family. I replied, I thought i already did that? He, well now you have all the kids on your side.

After cake we all sat down to watch the U.S.'s last game in the world cup this year. Even though i was the only American in the room, there were no Ghana supporters. There's an American in the family now, therefore the U.S. is now ours too. The amazing thing with Brazilian families is that there is no such thing as familiar levels. It doesn't matter whether you're a first cousin, the son of a third cousin twice removed, or the foreign wife of a nephew, family is family, and here, family is everything.

a bientot