Brazil

Here not only do they teach Samba dancing, but it’s also a store for many of the floats from carnivals past and present. In the UK, we are used to small floats in our carnivals; here, it’s a whole new ball game. Jessell tells me that they cost millions of pounds to make some up to 5 million. We peek into the stores and are blown away at the size and the detail that goes into making one of these. Have a look at the photo selection, and you can’t be impressed. The Samba crew turn up, and after a few minutes to change, we film Alison getting lessons and really getting into Samba. It’s loud, colourful and infectious. We film 3 or 4 times getting some great shots. By this time, we have attracted an audience, and everybody is having a great time.

Brazilians always seem to be smiling! It’s getting sweltering now, so we break for a quick drink and to get a few shots of the floats and dancers.

The next stop is the Garota de Ipanema Cafe, where the famous song Girl from Ipanema was conceived. Apparently, when a certain Frank Sinatra called the café to ask if he could record the song, the owners thought it was a prank call and put the phone down on him. He duly called back, explained, and the rest is history.

The place is a normal back street café, two blocks back from Ipanema beach, and its current owners serve some really nice food. We film a PTC (piece to camera) me walking in, and menus shot and set up to chat about one of Brazil’s favourite meat experiences, the classic Picanha. It’s a rare grilled steak cut from the cap of the rump. The steak is half cooked, placed on a small portable grill and served to your table sliced. You then finish cooking the steak to your liking on the hot plate. Its classic accompaniments are toasted manioc (tapioca) flour, with scrambled eggs, onions and ham stirred through. Rice with peas and fries are also served. Finally, we are ready to go, and the cameras are rolling. Then the steak duly arrives, and I tuck in.

The meat is so tender, succulent and packed full of flavour. The fat tastes creamy and is delicious. I gently flash the rare slices and devour them. We shoot many times (thank goodness), and at the end, I’m stuffed. A quick word about the manioc flour. At first glance, it does not look very appetising, a sort of scrambled egg dish with sawdust, small pieces of ham and spring onions. I know I’m not really selling it, but over the course of the trip, I did quite enjoy it in the end. The crew tuck into the steak as well, and like I am stuffed by the end. After a quick coffee, we set up the final interview with the current café owner and chat about the restaurant’s history and song. Geraint wants more shots of the café, so while he takes more shots, the rest of us pile into the bus and snooze.

Next stop; learning to cook probably Brazil’s most famous dish, Feijoada. We were off to meet chef Simone Almeida at her cook school Rua do Rosario. The school is also a restaurant and situated in a trendy part of Rio. The restaurant has a lovely feel to it, warm and friendly. We meet outside and start to sort out all the kit, which takes some time. Simone is charming and warm and very helpful, and we run through what we need from her. Whilst we chat, she suddenly barks a few words to our security man Paulo. Who immediately stands and looks around.

I ask her what the problem is. She nods to a young boy no older than 12 and says he will check you out. She says they have seen you all earlier, and they are keeping an eye on you. He quickly disappears when our man moves towards him. It just emphasises that you really have to be aware of your surroundings when in a strange city like Rio, known for its street crime.

We film a walking and greeting shot outside, then move indoors to set up the cooking sequence. Simone was, as I have said, going to prepare and cook a Feijoada, a lovely deep flavoured bean and preserved meat dish, eaten every day here in Brazil.

The cameras roll, and off we go. She is very funny, articulate with a steely edge. It’s something I have seen over the years from women who have done their time in professional kitchens. She doesn’t pussyfoot around and cracks straight on. Instead, she chops up cooked beautiful smoked sausages, like an Andouille. She then cuts up salted pork and ham, more like bacon, including the fat and ears. Next, she places soaked black beans into a saucepan and covers them with water. Then simmers until the beans are soft but not falling apart. Finally, the chopped meats are added with bay leaves, orange pieces and a generous slug of Caipirinha, a powerful spirit distilled from sugar cane and left for 2 hours.

After two hours, the onions are sautéed with garlic in a little oil in a separate pan. Manioc flour is added to soak up all the oil. It does look a bit like sawdust with onions in it. This is served as a side dish and probably will be at every meal we come across in Brazil. But being that Brazilians do not eat many vegetables, it’s an essential way of getting fibre so important to the human diet. Next, finely chopped bananas (there are 27 varieties in Brazil, Simone tells me) are added along with a little salt and pepper. It’s an odd combination, looking forward to tasting that one!!!

The final accompaniment to the Feijoada is some very finely shredded collard greens or cabbage that is sautéed in more hot oil with lots of garlic.

The stew is served in a deep bowl with the manioc/banana served separately and topped with the cooked garlic greens. The taste is amazing and really packed full of flavour. The smokiness of the meats and the deep flavour of the beans is a very nice combination. The banana ‘sawdust’ is actually quite nice and compliments the other two perfectly. Just going to prove never eat with only your eyes….Janice isn’t so sure; no surprise there then.