Kazia Jankowski - big world | small kitchen

Subscribe via FeedBurner Email:

Sweet Sao Paulo

Lush jungle surrounds the city of Sao Paulo, Brazil. As you fly in, you pass over deep green valleys and light green hills. Then suddenly, the mountains drop into a wide-open plateau, and for the next 47 miles the view is gray. Concrete high rise after concrete high rise erases the vegetation. On the streets, it feels like New York City—times two. There are more taxis, more Italian restaurants, more subway commuters, and more people than the Big Apple. Prices are 20 to 30 percent higher. Poverty and crime are more extreme.

This reality is so jarring that my co-worker Brad only lasted four hours in Brazil’s biggest business city before he began to plan an early exit. Brad and I were in Sao Paulo last week for international dairy research. Our trip was scheduled for eight days, but with one walk through a dusty, muted antique fair, Brad decided that this city lacked distinctive charm. Where were the handicrafts made of coconuts? The charming vendors selling them? If there weren’t any, then Brad was ready to head home.

But if you leave Sao Paulo early, you might miss a day like this one:

Last Thursday, Brad and I stepped off Oscar Freire, Sao Paulo’s most luxurious shopping street. We left behind Armani, Valentino, and Calvin Klein to visit a nearby, open-air street market. There it looked as if Dr. Suess had worked his magic. Golden bananas came in all sizes. Pineapples were long and pear-shaped.  Small, spiky magenta balls opened into clear, perfumed, fleshy fruit. The noise was like squawking jungle parrots, as tanned vendors offered us slices of juicy melon and luscious papaya. Before we knew it our fingers were sticky, and we’d eaten enough free fruit to call it lunch. Time for dessert.

We headed down the hill to one of Sao Paulo’s bustling fruit juice shops, where we were greeted by the whirl of blenders. Brazilians have a tradition of drinking vitaminas—or fresh fruit, blended with cold milk, and sugar. We’d come to this bustling shop to try them. Soon our table was full of straws peaking out of cool glasses of banana-papaya-milk puree. It was a smoothie—except lighter, easier, and more straightforward. As we sipped, I couldn’t help but think of the women who we’d talked to earlier that day. Vitaminas, they promised, made your hair shinier, your nails stronger, and your teeth healthier. I sat a little straighter; there was beauty and sweetness to this steely city. It just required fruit, milk, and a blender.

Brad and I are now back in Denver. Neither one of us has mentioned Sao Paulo’s skyscrapers or its clinging humid air, but Monday morning, I rolled out of bed, gave one long look to the golden-brown bananas on my counter and dropped them into a blender with milk and sugar. My vitamina tasted as rich and full as our day last Thursday. Brad tells me that that he, too, is going to add vitaminas to his breakfast ritual.

While our suitcases back to Denver may have been light on wood carvings and ceramics, now home, Brad and I have been quick to make our own Brazilian handicrafts.

Brazilian Banana Smoothie (a.k.a. Banana vitamina)
Serves 1

Life in Sao Paulo, Brazil, is hectic. So Brazilians look for ways to avoid the chaos. To ease into the morning or to escape the grind of work, they opt for a vitamina. This blend of cold milk, fresh fruit, and sugar is at once light, refreshing, and filling. Banana is the standard vitamina flavor, but because Brazilians have easy access to seasonal fruit, they might also add papaya, mango, or apple. Health-conscious Brazilians could also toss in oatmeal flakes—and those looking for a dessert are likely to add a few squeezes of chocolate syrup. Feel free to experiment with this basic recipe.

¾ cup milk  (Brazilians would likely use whole milk)
1 very ripe banana
1 teaspoon sugar

Add all ingredients to blender. Mix for 30 seconds and serve.

For printable recipe, click here.

• home
• about
• RSS
• all text and photo copyright 2010 kazia jankowski
• design by dm