ADAM: Previously, our only experience with Brazilian food had been at all-you-can-eat churrascarias, where you gorge on skewers of meat until a cow trundles out of the kitchen to beg for mercy. But while churrascarias have become the most internationally popular form of Brazilian food, they actually only represent a niche segment of the nation’s varied grub. So for our navigeatin’, we focused on finding Feijoada (pronounced Fay-zjwa-da), a bean and meat stew considered to be the country’s national dish.

LAURA: Feijoada is loaded with so many pig parts, it could make a Mario Batali dish look kosher. Traditionally it’s made with salted pork, bacon, smoked ribs, sausage, and a trimmings trifecta of tails, ears and feet. No one is really certain about the history of Feijoada, but a popular theory is that an early form of the bean stew was brought over from Portugal, and then it morphed into a more offal-y version when slaves made it using leftover pork scraps the rich folks tossed out.

ADAM: In the U.S., Feijoada is usually made with better (read: non-ear) cuts of meat because we are pansies. But we called ahead to Malagueta, a well-reviewed Brazilian joint in Astoria, Queens, and they agreed to whip up a batch for us with tails. Cooking Feijoada is an utter pain in the ass because stewing the dry beans and salted meat is a two-day process. For that reason, many Brazilian restaurants usually only offer it on Saturdays.

LAURA: We ordered a ton of appetizers that turned out to be ridiculously good: portobello-stuffed calamari (right), brazilian sausage and Pao de Gueijo, which is the country’s beloved cheese bread.

ADAM: But our main app goal was downing some historic Acarajé, which are black-eyed pea patties fried in palm oil. Ours were topped with grilled shrimp and vatapa, a delicious paste made of coconut milk, cashews, shrimp, and spices.

LAURA: Acarajé was originally brought to Brazil by African slaves and has cultural ties to Candomblé, an Afro-Brazilian religion. It’s famously sold on the streets of Bahia by female vendors known as “baianas,” who wear the clothes of Candomblé priestesses: white hooped skirts, lacy tops, and turbans. FOOD SCANDAL ALERT! In recent times, some vendors have refused to wear the traditional attire and—gasp!—companies have developed instant acarajé powder. Still, the dish is so rich in tradition, it’s been inducted into the Institute of National Historic and Artistic Patrimony, Brazil’s record of important historical and cultural artifacts. So dining on Acarjé is sort of like going to the Smithsonian and eating Abe Lincoln’s top hat.

ADAM: Once the Feijoada arrived, we spooned the stew over rice, then sprinkled on farofa, which is this magical yuca flour seasoned with bits of bacon. Orange slices sit on the side to either eat separately or squeeze over the whole mix. If munching the Acarje was like eating Lincoln’s hat, then the Feijoada was like picking an awesome medley of softened pork bits out of his beard.

Eats Deets
Malagueta
2535 36th Ave., Astoria, Queens
Astoria, NY 11106
(718) 937-4821