Highlights of my Brazilian and Portuguese-related knowledge:
- Scrappy soccer skills. My high school fútbol coach, a man of Portuguese provenance, taught me how to step on the opponent’s foot when going for a head ball without getting busted by the ref. Sneaky, Zeca.
- Caipirinhas. A college friend was married to a Brazilian chef who mixed these often. Should you ever ask me to help paint your guest bedroom, just know that caipirinhas plus paint may lead to paint on the carpet. The walls looked impeccable, though, miraculously.
- Unbearably cute language. The Portugese word for cheek is bochecha (boo-sheh-sha). Try saying that without slipping slightly into baby talk.
And thanks to the lavish birthday celebration for one lovely UWS-dwelling Brazilian lass, brigadeiros.
The man this Brazilian chocolate creation was named for, Brigadier Eduardo Gomes, ate his last brigadeiro (bree-gah-DAY-ro) less than two months before I was born. As Gomes passed on, a future consumer of the candy named in his honor came into the world.
Brigadeiro is similar to a truffle, but the texture is more sticky and caramel-y gooey. Outside of jetting to Rio or Lisbon, the best way to get your condensed milk bonbon fix is via My Sweet Brigadeiro. They’re available in a few Manhattan stores, can be delivered in NYC and shipped to all 50 states.
Bonus! This chocolate talk is the perfect excuse to mention one of my favorite sites, The Selby.
One of the most recent posts is a feature on fashion designer Alexandre Herchocovitch and his home in São Paulo. He provides a brigadeiro recipe in the handwritten interview.
A brigadeiro a day keeps the South American vacay longing away. [Not really, but we can pretend.]