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Published: July 10th 2008
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After a long day of travel we headed to the closest town, Pão de Açucar, to spend the night. Carlos took us to a little pousada in the center of town - apparently the only one reliably operating. Pão de Açucar used to be a tourist destination for its colonial architecture and its location on the São Francisco River. In recent years, however, lack of maintenance of historical buildings and of economic opportunity have caused the town to crumble, literally and figuratively. Very few restaurants are open in the evenings, many pousadas have closed, and the once-festive beach-front area is shuttered by nightfall.
It is worth mentioning that Pão de Açucar’s big tourist attraction is its Corcovado. That’s right - a big Jesus. Just like in Rio de Janeiro! According to Carlos’ friend Milton, who owns a restaurant up on the hill where the Jesus is located, some young artists went to Rio and were enamored with the Jesus. They also noted that their town has the same name as the famous mountain in Rio. So they returned to Pão de Açucar and built a replica of the Jesus with their bare hands, with no grand engineering
blueprints. Everyone said it would fall over - but it is still standing! I have no idea when this event apparently took place, and it is probably popular lore - but it is a good explanation for why the statue exists.
The town got its name, again according to popular lore, because when the wind blows along the sand, which is finer than granulated sugar (açucar), it billows up like little rolls (pão). Dom Pedro II, the first emperor of Brasil after independence in 1822, also reportedly spent the night here while traveling up the river to explore the interior. The folklore of the interior mixes fact with imagined history to create fantastic stories best told in the evening with lots of drama.
As soon as we arrived Carlos called his friend Milton, with the restaurant, to let him know we would stop by and that we wanted to eat pitú, a big freshwater prawn only found in the Rio São Francisco. Much to Carlos’ dismay, Milton explained that his restaurant had been closed by one of the candidates for the mayoral election because he (Milton) wouldn’t pay the guy off or promise to vote for
him. So the issue is in the local court, which will be resolved in a few weeks, but for the time being the place is shuttered. So apparently while Dad and I rested, Milton and Carlos ran around town trying to find an open grocery store, Milton grabbed the extra pitú he had in his home fridge, and his friend opened her riverfront bar just so we could eat there. While Carlos went to pick us up, Milton and his friend cooked dinner.
And it was absolutely incredible. The bar is a simple room with a big window that during the day must have an amazing view of the river. Little birdcages hang from the ceiling and the walls are painted a bright white. We pulled together a few plastic chairs and tables and Milton’s friend brought out some ice-cold beers. A few minutes later Milton emerged from the kitchen with a big plate of hot white rice, a bowl of pitú in creamy tomato-coconut sauce, and pirão, a sauce made from the pitú broth and tomato thickened with flour. The pitú was sweeter than any shrimp I’ve ever tasted, the sauce light but rich, with a hint
of spice, and the pirão gooey enough to bind everything together into a messy stew.
Dona Josefa and Dona Maria in Baixas had picked us a bunch of peppers to eat that night and Milton’s friend sliced them up for us to scatter on the pitú. Being a spicy fiend, I piled them on top. At first they were sweet-tart, bright, almost like the flavor of green tomato and cilantro…but then came the burn…and then the beer, in a frantic attempt to kill the burn…then more rice and pitú…then more beer…and the night went on, conversation interspersed with seconds and thirds of the amazing food, enthusiastic compliments, more beer, political ramblings, storytelling, and finally exuberant declarations of how this was the ideal way to spend an evening, with great friends old and new, sharing experiences and contributing joy to each other’s lives. After big hugs and handshakes, we left Milton and his friend, headed back to the inn after a nearly 20 hour day, and crashed.
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