Eating Acai: A Delicious Cultural Experience In Brazil

by Jessica Festa on

“So, what are some things I should do when I arrive in Rio de Janeiro” I asked my airplane seat mate, Clarissa, a local of the city.

“Ipanema beach is my favorite, Sugarloaf Mountain has great views of the city and you must try açai!” she replied excitedly.

I looked at her skeptically. “Açai? We have that in New York, too. That’s not much of a cultural experience.”

Was I ever wrong!

In Brazil, açai cafes, fruit shops and natural food eateries are on every street corner. These serve everything you could imagine – açai juices, bowls of frozen açai with fruit and toppings, açai cheesecake and even açai syrup to use on ice cream. I became addicted to frozen açai with honey and banana slices (shown above).

Açai is an Amazon fruit that is a natural source of iron, healthy fats, B vitamins, calcium and many other nutrients. Depending where you are in Brazil will determine how and why you consume it. In the southeast of Brazil, in places like Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, açai is popular among athletes. In fact, some of the locals I asked described it as being “trendy” to eat. Often served cold with guarana, strawberry or banana, the sweet treat gives sports enthusiasts a useful energy boost. Even those who aren’t into working out still enjoy açai as a snack or healthy dessert.If you head into the north of Brazil the way the fruit is eaten begins to change. This is where açai is cultivated, in a state called Pará. Here you can see many boats coming from the area’s Amazon Forest filled with baskets of the fruit in its pure form. The locals in this area eat it differently — served with fish, as a side dish, at its natural temperature. To me this sounded odd but I was explained that it is similar to how many other cultures eat beans as a side dish. They’re full of iron, protein and energy, which laborers in the area need to do physical work. Furthermore, because the area is very humid, people eat açai to pep them up when feeling sluggish from the climate.

Because açai berries are imported to the United States and other parts of the world, the only place you can really get fresh açai is in Brazil. In other words, eating açai in Brazil is very much a worthwhile cultural experience.

Chef Paul Virant On Working With The New Hotel Lincoln In Chicago

by Grant Martin on

Chicago‘s Hotel Lincoln opened this March, the relaunch of a pillar in the Windy City. This version of the hotel brings new investors and a whole new look, including tight collusion with the neighboring well acclaimed restaurant, Perennial Virant.

We stopped in for a visit while construction was still underway and grabbed a drink with Paul Virant, the head of Perennial Virant, Vie and a dozen other projects, to see what he had in store for the relationship and get a feel for the space.

The hotel is now fully open for business.

***

Drinks at the Perennial Virant, Lincoln Park, Chicago.

Paul Virant: You know my oldest son’s name is Lincoln. He’s kind of feeling like it’s named after him.

Grant Martin: You let him believe that?

PV: Oh! Of course.

GM: Did you know that the hotel was going to be opening when you got involved with Perennial Virant?

PV: Yeah, from when we formed a partnership with Rob and Kevin at the Boka Group I always knew that it was going to open up as well.

GM: Part of the master plan…

PV: When Perennial opened up in 2008 there was a group that owned the space and they were going to build it out with a hotel. That was always the plan. Those folks went to jail. They were some shady finance people. So another investment group bought the building and then brought in Joie de Vivre as the hotel group that’s going to manage. It’s cool because they renamed it its original name. Have you seen it recently?

GM: Not since I visited a few weeks back.

PV: You should see it! You can go around the bar and take a look at it. It’s got this very historic charm to it.

%Gallery-151920%GM: I liked the tour. It’s hard to work with some of the layout they had. The rooms were originally a bit smaller – it was a Days or Comfort Inn earlier.

PV: It was a Days Inn.

GM: Transitioning from that layout to a boutique property is a little bit harder because you need more space and a wider footprint to appeal to a modern yuppie demographic.

PV: I think there is some truth to that. If you look at a lot of major city hotels – like in New York – many city rooms are small now. But they’re designed really well.

GM: So how did you get into this arrangement?

PV: I knew Kevin Boehm [of the Boka Restaurant Group]. I have my other place, Vie in Western Springs. And I had been actively looking for restaurant space in the city for a couple of years prior. Kevin also knew that and when Ryan Poli left the former property he called and said ‘Hey, what do you think about closing [Perennial], partnering and reopening as a new restaurant – with us – at no expense to you?’ It was a great opportunity.

GM: Working with a hotel directly like this – how does it affect your brand? Does it dilute it?

PV: It could potentially, but the reputation of the Boka Group is entirely solid so I was never concerned with partnering with them.

I think hotels in general have really evolved into not only a place to stay but a destination for dining. There have been a lot of partnerships with great chefs and big hotles all over the world that do a pretty solid job. Why shouldn’t there be the same sort of integrity that’s put into a small restaurant and hotel?

GM: So you think that the trend of top line chefs working with hotel brands will continue?

PV: Look at Sandro Gamba, who was the original chef at the Park Hyatt here – the Elysisan having Ria on premise, what Graham Elliott did for Avenues. It’s a challenge, but I look at it as more of an opportunity to preach a bit about what my philosophy is towards food and the kind of stuff that I want to do.

GM: So will you have the exact same menu between the restaurant and in-room meals?

RV: The way that in-room dining works is that it’ll be offered during restaurant hours. The restaurant menu will be offered in the rooms with some exceptions. If there’s no issue with compromising integrity or quality then I’ll say that we can do it.

In any relationship there’s got to be some compromise. But for the most part – as far as the food goes, I’m calling the shots. [Boka] is excited about having a caliber of restaurant like this.

GM: So how will your focus change? Will it shift with a hotel clientèle in play?

PV: There won’t be a big difference. [Perennial Virant] is going to become a seven-day operation, so that encompasses a lot of different types of food. It’s largely a matter of staffing and opening up a little earlier.

GM: But you do expect traffic to pick up with the hotel opening.

PV: I think there are statistics that claim that 20 percent of the hotel’s occupancy will visit the restaurant. That’s a lot of growth.

GM: You’ll be spending the bulk of your time on site here then?

PV: My other restaurants are well staffed and I spend a lot of my time down here. My ultimate goal would be to promote a head chef here so that I can pursue some other things. One of the things I’m looking to do is start a farm. I also have a canning book coming out in April that’s all about canning and preserving.

GM: Great, well after the tour we’ll stick around for dinner.

PV: Thanks for stopping by!

[all photos by Erin Drewitz]

BBC America Launches ‘No Kitchen Required’ (Or: ‘Top Chef’ + Adventure Travel)

by Grant Martin on


With another “Top Chef” season behind us, foodies now have a new culinary competition show to look forward to: BBC America’s “No Kitchen Required.” A combination of “Top Chef” and an adventure travel show, NKR keeps the chefs static while changing location each week. And instead of the focus on a tournament style competition, the focus lies on the challenges presented by each new destination.

The three chefs involved — Michael Psilakis, Madison Cowan and Kayne Raymond — need to find and prepare their food in situ while on location, whether that’s in the jungle, the Arctic or wherever their crew lands. They’re judged by local experts and though there’s a winner each week it’s a fairly friendly competition.

The kind folks at BBC America sent over a screener of NKR to Gadling Labs this weekend and we took a look. There are some distinctive similarities to “Top Chef.” There’s a beautiful, slender host, the timed cooking and judging is identical and the frustrating production is similar to many of the unscripted series choking the market. Where “No Kitchen Required” really excels is in its cast and the narrative. The chefs are really positive and respectful, throttling down the drama to focus on the destination and the local culture. The story weaves through the location and the audience can learn not only about the food, but also about the history and the landscape of the setting. For this travel writer, those virtues make “No Kitchen Required” volumes better than “Top Chef.”

“No Kitchen Required” airs tonight on BBC America at 10/9C. Check out the exclusive clip above for a taste of the series premier.

A Haven For Food Lovers In Sao Paulo, Brazil: Mercado Municipal

by Jessica Festa on

I love food. It’s probably my favorite part of traveling. I also love saving money. That’s why on a recent trip to São Paulo, Brazil, where I was staying on the expensive Avenida Paulista, I was excited to learn about the Mercado Municipal.

Located on Cantareira Street, off the San Bento subway stop on the blue line, is a massive market selling various kinds of fruits, meats, cheeses, cakes, nuts, candies, oils, wines and more. It’s a very cultural experience, as locals rely on the market to get specialty items and when they have a lot to buy. It’s also a great way to introduce yourself to high-quality, local foods in Brazil. In fact, the food sold at Mercado Municipal is so good, most of the restaurants in the city purchase their ingredients from there.

The best part is the people selling the foods, especially the fruits, stand with cutting knives and napkins ready to give you samples. I got to try various fruits I had never seen or heard of before, and even some I had, just to see if they tasted different. I’m not sure if I was just excited to be in a new city, but strawberries definitely seem sweeter and juicier in Brazil.

Even when the stands didn’t appear to be giving away samples, if you ask to try something, it’s usually not a problem. Even though I don’t speak Portuguese, looking hungry with a longing stare got me a sampler of nuts that filled me for hours.

Still want to continue your journey of São Paulo’s unique flavors? Take the subway to the Ana Rosa stop on the green line. On the corner of Rua Joaquim and Rua Aurea is an off-the-radar popsicle shop called Frutos do Cerrado. While tiny in size, the shop sells ice pops, gelato and sorbets of more fruit flavors than I’ve ever seen in my life. Along with typical varieties like mango, banana and grape, there was buriti, amora, jatoba and tamarindo, to name a few. They even have a flavor for the caipirinha, Brazil’s national drink.

Culinary Cab Confessions: The Search For Tacos And ‘Authenticity’ In Mexico

by David Farley on
The first taxi driver I met in Puerto Vallarta had other plans for me. “You want to go to peliculas?” he asked, looking at me through the rearview mirror. I didn’t particularly want to go to a movie. Especially not the kind he had in mind. “It’s a good movie,” he said in Spanish and then laughed in the way that would have required him to rub his hands together if they weren’t occupied with dodging pedestrians and dogs, as we tore through the streets of this seaside Mexican town.

“Okay,” he said. “Chica? You want a chica?”

“No,” I said. “I already told you. Quiero comer.” I want to eat.

And just then, he poked his head out the window at a short-skirt-wearing, twenty-something female standing on the sidewalk and said “Yo quiero un taco!” and laughed again. He jilted his head back at me and said, “Que una pussy!”

I was hoping to do another installment of my Culinary Cab Confessions in which I test the theory that taxi drivers are a knowledge repository of the best (and cheapest) places to eat, the out-of-the-way gems that you just don’t stumble across. Except this rotund, randy cab driver I was currently with was a knowledge stockroom of other carnal pleasures. Just not the kind I was seeking. I grew up in southern California where Mexican cuisine has become something of a default comfort food. Having lived in good-Mexican-food-deprived New York City for the last nine years, I relish the moments when I’m in a place that has good Mexican food (like, say, Mexico, for example). I just had to find a cab driver who would show me the right place.

When I arrived in this city of 250,000 I immediately had jumped in a cab and pointed it toward the old town. The driver recommended I eat at El Moreno, a taco stand in the Zona Romantico, the cobblestone-street-and-tourist-laden part of town. I found El Moreno, and then I found another taco cart. And another. Two hours later, I had eaten octopus tacos, steamed marlin tacos, several variations on the theme of pork tacos, and unidentified fish tacos. I swore by the time I left I’d be encased in tortilla shell myself. Some of the tacos were good. Some were excellent. All included a requisite gringo or two eating with me.

There were several questions that were nagging at me: Where could I go in town with fewer gringos? Did it really matter? Would my experience be more “authentic” if I were the only non-local? I asked the concierge at my hotel (about where I could eat without encountering other tourists). “No,” she said, shaking her head at me. And then another question arose: was I just being a culinary traveling snob?

“These places don’t exist,” said the concierge when I repeated the question on where I could find good tacos in a gringo-less environment. “We go to the same places the gringos go.” Or, rather, gringos go the same places the locals go. Still, I persisted. There had to be a taqueria-crammed neighborhood that tourists don’t venture to. “No, no, no,” she said. I sighed and walked away.
And then I got in a cab. I explained to the driver what I wanted and he knew immediately where to take me. La Aurora, a neighborhood that was about 10 minutes away.
He let me off at Universo, a street-plaza that was lined with food carts. There were carnitas tacos, porklicious tortas and a guy making Frisbee-sized hamburgers. (I’m not exaggerating.) I settled in at Taqueria Don Roque and ordered the house specialty: the al pastor tacos, the meat of which was shaved off of a huge hunk, like at a shwarma joint. The spicy pork in the tacos was intermingled with chunks of pineapple, an additional taste stratum that I very much appreciated. I ordered two more.
There was a fat man lounging in front of a grill on the corner of the intersection across the street. I wandered over and realized my presence had just roused him out of a sleep. He said he was from Michoacan and was selling a typical snack of his home region: roasted chickpeas. I bought a bag and strolled around the plaza gawking at what to eat next. The chickpeas were still in their encasing, making eating them a tad difficult but worth every juicy chickpea stream that was running down my forearm. I still had no answers to my questions about travel and the “authentic” experience some of us seek. I did, though, have one answer: I’d found the place I was looking for.