If there is one thing I hate, it is noise. And nowadays, I am plagued with noise. At home with building works at the back, not to mention the drunks at weekends. At airports with horrid music piping everywhere. On the tube with music pulsating out of people’s headphones. And of course in restaurants where very few restaurateurs seem to appreciate that diners may want to talk to each other while eating their meal!
I can’t remember when my mother moved to Balluneh. I wasn’t happy because I loved our huge appartment in Beirut in a 1920’s building but it had been squatted during the civil war and even though my mother had gotten rid of the squatters (who were neighbours), she no longer felt safe there. So, she bought in Balluneh, away from the chaos of Beirut and close to her brother. I didn’t like the place at first but I do now, for all kinds of reasons including Qal’at el-Rumiyeh in neighbouring Qley’at where they rear their own lambs to serve the best nayeh ever — the only better nayeh is up north in places like Ehden where they make it with goat meat. They also have the most amazing view as you can see from the picture above. And whenever I visit, my mother knows that lunch at Rumiyeh is the first thing I want to do. It was no different this time except that we were joined by my sister and her husband, a rare couple who are still mad about each other nearly 40 years, 3 children and 2 grandchildren later!
The first time I tasted Helena Rizzo’s food was at Paladar Cozinha do Brasil. She was demonstrating her super sophisticated version of feijoada and I was so intrigued by the droplets of concentrated feijoada she had created by boiling the beans with the meat then sieving them to have a very smooth, very soft purée which she dropped in tiny spoonfuls into a solution to produce ‘jellified’ droplets — a process called spherification I think — that I had to have a taste. So, Danilo who was translating for me and I decided to sneak a taste where they were photographing the chefs’ dishes. The feijoada droplets were sensational, bursting into the mouth to release the most exquisite silky purée that had an unmistakable taste of traditional feijoada. Absolutely fabulous. And as luck would have it, lovely Ilan Kow and Luiz Americo Camargo who were our hosts at Paladar invited me to dinner at Mani to taste more of Helena’s cooking.
I first went to Sao Paulo in 2009 to attend Paladar Cozinha do Brasil which anyone interested in Brazilian food should go to — it is totally fascinating. I then stayed on with my new found cousin to explore the city and try a few more restaurants including Jun Sakamoto where I learned that a top Japanese chef does not expect you to add anything to his sushi — he will brush the pieces with as much soy sauce as he thinks fit and all you have to do is pop the morsel into your mouth. That meal was the closest I got to knowing what it is like to eat in Japan, until that is I went to Urasawa in LA. And the reason why there is amazing Japanese food in Sao Paulo is because it has the largest Japanese community outside Japan, with many living and working in Liberdade where I went this time with the very talented Danilo Nakamura, both to explore the quartier and have lunch at Kidoairaku, a tiny place with the entrance plastered with posters of the owner’s gorgeous brother as a female dancer — apparently he is very famous.