Andy HoffmanSão Paulo changes fast. Most of the changes improve the city. Deb grew up here and harbors dreadful memories of violence, poverty, dictatorship, and environmental disasters. Though it has sometimes happened through corruption, particularly around real estate, the city has nearly eliminated its favelas, built a state-of-the-art Metro system, turned Ibirapuera Parque into a widely used public asset, and has made remarkable progress in burying its power lines. The city grows and grows, but still maintains its distinct Brazilian flavor. Sometimes you have to look for it. Sometimes you just happen upon it. It survives nonetheless.
Take, for example, Orchidea Pérola, in the Vila Mariana neighborhood of São Paulo, a traditional padaria. I have described padarias before. More than a bakery, or even a bakery/café, a padaria makes bread, various baked good, and sweets, has a selective market for fresh foods, and usually a full restaurant featuring its baked goods. Orchidea Pérola not only produces extraordinary bakery items; it also has an old-fashioned counter and a few diner tables where it serves lunch specials called executivos, and a more complete restaurant upstairs. On weekends and holidays, they add a breakfast buffet.
Like most buffets in São Paulo, and perhaps across Brazil, this on sells by weight, 85 reais per kilo, which translates at the current exchange rate to about $7 a pound. A pound of breakfast will probably hold you until dinner, depending on your appetite. They feature egg dishes, various meats, stews, and sausages, wonderful fresh South American fruit, and of course their own bakery items, both sweet and savory. If you want to watch soccer while you eat, which I often do, Orchidea Pérola has a couple of small TVs tacked on the wall. They will make coffee specialties to order, along with a few other items like fried eggs.
I don’t claim that Orchidea Pérola represents fine dining. Everything I had hit the mark, plenty good enough that I plan to go back. Orchidea Pérola charmed me, though, exactly because it served the same food it always has, prepared in much the same way. I had a cafezino there, a small pick-me-up Brazilians go for at any hour of the day, and they served it with a shot of tonic water. At first, I had no idea what it was and left it alone. After the tiny coffee, I sniffed it and thought, “Why not?” Tonic water cleanses the palate of residual coffee taste instantly and completely, something I never knew before. I don’t know that I would keep it on hand for this purpose, but it felt like a shot of tradition. It made sense of the cafezino tradition.
Whenever we go to Orchidea Pérola – and we go every other day for bread – I feel as though I have stepped back into Deb’s childhood Brazil. They make no effort to keep up with the times. They might offer some gluten-free breads, but I didn’t see them. Late afternoons, we discovered, that they produce a series of small round breads, baked just short of crispy, topped with vegetables, meats, or cheeses. These esfihas are the perfect appetite quencher that hold you until dinner, normally served late in Brazil. Every aspect of Orchidea Pérola, especially the breakfast buffet, reminds you that, while São Paulo pushes itself into the future, it honors the character that has attracted millions. There’s a Brazilian word, caprichado, that means made with dedication and care. The food at Orchidea Pérola is caprichado in a way which is joyful and inviting.