Recipes and Stories from My Brazil Manoella Buffara Manu8 Foreword by Dominique Crenn 10 Foreword by Alex Atala 14 Introduction: Welcome to Manu 18 Araucaria 36 Drinks 48 Metamorphosis 96 Melipona 130 Imagination 168 The Field to the Sea 192 Passion Fruit 208 Connection 224 Petit Fours 236 Index8 Foreword by Dominique Crenn 10 Foreword by Alex Atala 14 Introduction: Welcome to Manu 18 Araucaria 36 Drinks 48 Metamorphosis 96 Melipona 130 Imagination 168 The Field to the Sea 192 Passion Fruit 208 Connection 224 Petit Fours 236 Index 54 In southern Brazil, where I was born and raised, it is common to barbecue—typically beef—on Sundays. On that day, the father of the family tradition- ally takes care of the food. It is rare for women to helm the barbecue. But my father cooks nothing—not even barbecue—and I was never fond of beef. It was easy for me to erase beef from Manu’s menu, in 2019. I serve only one dish of red meat—lamb or pork—on our menu. In the late 1990s, researchers at Universidade Federal do Paraná (Federal University of Paraná) studied the Moura pig (porco Moura), a pig native to Brazil and a hybrid of a local species and a species brought by the Spanish Jesuit priests between 1500 and 1700. They were at risk of extinction, but the researchers managed to prevent this fate, though it took a while for a farmer to develop good Moura pig products for chefs. It is not really an option to buy the whole pig for a restaurant as small as Manu: we do not have uses for all the pig parts, and I am against waste in my kitchen. But then I learned of Felipe Nicolau Soifer, of Casa Gralha Azul (Blue Parrot House). His free-range pigs eat organic vegetables, seeds, and various types of pumpkin. They are fantastic, and he sells the parts to different food producers. I use his pork meat, lard, and a guanciale (cured bacon from the pig cheek) from a reliable Curitiba sausage house that uses Casa Gralha Azul pork. My lamb comes from a farm to which I have a solid emotional connection. My aunt Rosane Garmatter Buffara, married to my mother’s brother, Nelson Buffara Junior, raises the lamb. She is a tiny producer, working only with crosses of Hampshire Down (the best-marbled meat) and Ile de France (which is the perfect size) and Texel (the best carcass shape for meat) species. The meat she produces is unique. Aunt Rosane herself takes care of every detail of the sheep’s feeding, care, and slaughtering. She will wake up in the middle of the night when the sheep are being born to ensure everything is going smoothly with the deliveries, and she will bottle-feed the newborns if necessary. They are then raised at the farm of her father, Fazenda Ferrador, where I spent some unforget- table holidays and where I like to escape for a home-cooked lunch and good conversation every now and then. I am so confident in the quality of her meat that I dare serve it rarer than usual, for those customers who are delighted to try it. Manu’s menu is very flexible. Considering the season, I create a range of plates that fit the menu. This way, I always have an option if the carrots aren’t good that day or if the octopus is not the best I can get that week. There are times my team calls me, saying, “We have too much squid ink in the freezer.” It’s not a problem for me—I will create something that uses it perfectly. The quality of the fish or shellfish I receive every day makes it impossible not to create something from it. In fact, on some of our menus, you’ll find six seafood dishes. Some of my best dishes have arisen from clients’ dietary restric- tions. For a while, I did not offer many vegetarian or vegan recipes. My sous-chef Debora Teixeira, who has been with me since before Manu, takes good care of our daily mise en place. She guarantees that what we’ve planned is always there, in the right proportion, texture, color, and taste. And I can improvise around it. Our sauces, broths, fermentations, and other preparations are so well developed that creating a new last-minute dish is often a nice challenge. I was already in love with cauliflower when I had to used it in an impro- vised vegan dish. Cauliflower can have a strong taste or no taste, depending on how it’s prepared. Its flower-like appearance also captivates me. Our cauliflower and bottarga dish was already a hit, but to make it vegan, I used cashew milk instead of bottarga. It was so good that we later included it on the main menu. I also developed a vegetarian version with a homemade cauliflower-and-passion-fruit butter served alongside the fried cauliflower. The umami that comes from this preparation is incredible. I love passion fruit, and it shows up in different ways in my recipes. One remarkable dish served at Manu is based on a dish I created when cooking at a hotel in the Maldives. One guest couldn’t eat raw food, and I had raw shrimp (prawn) on the menu. I asked the chef if he had fresh leeks, and he did, so I steamed them. Then I asked for peanuts, tomatoes, cumin, onions, shoyu, lemongrass, corian- der, and chives. I sautéed everything together and processed the mixture into a thick sauce. I then seasoned almond milk with lime. Since I had a dish with crayfish, I used its head to prepare a bisque sauce. The resulting dish was steamed leek with a little of all these preparations. I always dreamed of having a carrot dish. When I was young, I competed in equestrian competitions, and I remain fond of horses to this day. We fed the horses with carrots, and I sometimes ate them myself. Since then, I’ve learned a lot about this root vegetable, but it took me years to create a carrot dish. Whenever my team rates my creation as good, nice, okay, or interesting, I throw it in the trash. I want my food to be extraordinary and to arouse emotions. And this was challenging to do with a carrot. I appreciate the umami from fermented preparations. One after- noon while making sourdough bread, I decided to make an accom- panying sauce and thickened it with butter. Funnily enough, my first thought was to cook the sauce in a vacuum, but since it was fermented, it exploded. (Sometimes, our kitchen exploits resemble science experiments.) We persisted with the idea of the vacuum, deciding to put less sauce in the bag and adding shoyu, garlic, and tucupi. And a-ha! We had the perfect fermented sauce. But there was just one problem: nothing went well with it. I was still looking for the perfect cook point for the carrot. Sure, the carrot itself was already special: it was organic and harvested in the crescent of the full moon, when it is sweetest. I did not want it to be al dente; it had to be soft while maintaining its structure. We washed it carefully and left it unpeeled in an attempt to retain the carrot’s integrity. Then we steamed it for eight minutes. I like cumin, which is not used much in Brazilian kitchens. I mixed together some red and black pepper, cumin leaf and seeds, and cori- ander seeds, then massaged the steamed carrot with the rub. It was grilled (griddled) on the barbecue to add smokiness and then served with the fermented sauce. The dish surprises. There is a lot of butter in the sauce, so it is easy to understand that part of it. But then you’re perplexed by the carrot’s texture and the taste of leaven. I am proud to finish a menu with this dish. Instead of serving a final meat course, I send out this carrot dish. I like to talk about the two or three dishes everyone remem- bers after eating a menu I prepare. The carrot is often among them, which makes me extremely happy. Working with carrot and cauliflower helped me understand that I don’t want too many things on the plate. I want to simplify the dish but still bring all the flavors and textures an ingredient can offer. I like spicy food, but each herb or seed has a role on a plate I create. To cook well is much more than having the best recipe. It’s about understanding each ingredient and creating the best moment for it. I love to think of myself as a fashion designer who has to find the best outfit for each ingredient I receive. Once I followed that path, I was freer to improvise. Lamb, Moura pig, and the perfect carrot 54 In southern Brazil, where I was born and raised, it is common to barbecue—typically beef—on Sundays. On that day, the father of the family tradition- ally takes care of the food. It is rare for women to helm the barbecue. But my father cooks nothing—not even barbecue—and I was never fond of beef. It was easy for me to erase beef from Manu’s menu, in 2019. I serve only one dish of red meat—lamb or pork—on our menu. In the late 1990s, researchers at Universidade Federal do Paraná (Federal University of Paraná) studied the Moura pig (porco Moura), a pig native to Brazil and a hybrid of a local species and a species brought by the Spanish Jesuit priests between 1500 and 1700. They were at risk of extinction, but the researchers managed to prevent this fate, though it took a while for a farmer to develop good Moura pig products for chefs. It is not really an option to buy the whole pig for a restaurant as small as Manu: we do not have uses for all the pig parts, and I am against waste in my kitchen. But then I learned of Felipe Nicolau Soifer, of Casa Gralha Azul (Blue Parrot House). His free-range pigs eat organic vegetables, seeds, and various types of pumpkin. They are fantastic, and he sells the parts to different food producers. I use his pork meat, lard, and a guanciale (cured bacon from the pig cheek) from a reliable Curitiba sausage house that uses Casa Gralha Azul pork. My lamb comes from a farm to which I have a solid emotional connection. My aunt Rosane Garmatter Buffara, married to my mother’s brother, Nelson Buffara Junior, raises the lamb. She is a tiny producer, working only with crosses of Hampshire Down (the best-marbled meat) and Ile de France (which is the perfect size) and Texel (the best carcass shape for meat) species. The meat she produces is unique. Aunt Rosane herself takes care of every detail of the sheep’s feeding, care, and slaughtering. She will wake up in the middle of the night when the sheep are being born to ensure everything is going smoothly with the deliveries, and she will bottle-feed the newborns if necessary. They are then raised at the farm of her father, Fazenda Ferrador, where I spent some unforget- table holidays and where I like to escape for a home-cooked lunch and good conversation every now and then. I am so confident in the quality of her meat that I dare serve it rarer than usual, for those customers who are delighted to try it. Manu’s menu is very flexible. Considering the season, I create a range of plates that fit the menu. This way, I always have an option if the carrots aren’t good that day or if the octopus is not the best I can get that week. There are times my team calls me, saying, “We have too much squid ink in the freezer.” It’s not a problem for me—I will create something that uses it perfectly. The quality of the fish or shellfish I receive every day makes it impossible not to create something from it. In fact, on some of our menus, you’ll find six seafood dishes. Some of my best dishes have arisen from clients’ dietary restric- tions. For a while, I did not offer many vegetarian or vegan recipes. My sous-chef Debora Teixeira, who has been with me since before Manu, takes good care of our daily mise en place. She guarantees that what we’ve planned is always there, in the right proportion, texture, color, and taste. And I can improvise around it. Our sauces, broths, fermentations, and other preparations are so well developed that creating a new last-minute dish is often a nice challenge. I was already in love with cauliflower when I had to used it in an impro- vised vegan dish. Cauliflower can have a strong taste or no taste, depending on how it’s prepared. Its flower-like appearance also captivates me. Our cauliflower and bottarga dish was already a hit, but to make it vegan, I used cashew milk instead of bottarga. It was so good that we later included it on the main menu. I also developed a vegetarian version with a homemade cauliflower-and-passion-fruit butter served alongside the fried cauliflower. The umami that comes from this preparation is incredible. I love passion fruit, and it shows up in different ways in my recipes. One remarkable dish served at Manu is based on a dish I created when cooking at a hotel in the Maldives. One guest couldn’t eat raw food, and I had raw shrimp (prawn) on the menu. I asked the chef if he had fresh leeks, and he did, so I steamed them. Then I asked for peanuts, tomatoes, cumin, onions, shoyu, lemongrass, corian- der, and chives. I sautéed everything together and processed the mixture into a thick sauce. I then seasoned almond milk with lime. Since I had a dish with crayfish, I used its head to prepare a bisque sauce. The resulting dish was steamed leek with a little of all these preparations. I always dreamed of having a carrot dish. When I was young, I competed in equestrian competitions, and I remain fond of horses to this day. We fed the horses with carrots, and I sometimes ate them myself. Since then, I’ve learned a lot about this root vegetable, but it took me years to create a carrot dish. Whenever my team rates my creation as good, nice, okay, or interesting, I throw it in the trash. I want my food to be extraordinary and to arouse emotions. And this was challenging to do with a carrot. I appreciate the umami from fermented preparations. One after- noon while making sourdough bread, I decided to make an accom- panying sauce and thickened it with butter. Funnily enough, my first thought was to cook the sauce in a vacuum, but since it was fermented, it exploded. (Sometimes, our kitchen exploits resemble science experiments.) We persisted with the idea of the vacuum, deciding to put less sauce in the bag and adding shoyu, garlic, and tucupi. And a-ha! We had the perfect fermented sauce. But there was just one problem: nothing went well with it. I was still looking for the perfect cook point for the carrot. Sure, the carrot itself was already special: it was organic and harvested in the crescent of the full moon, when it is sweetest. I did not want it to be al dente; it had to be soft while maintaining its structure. We washed it carefully and left it unpeeled in an attempt to retain the carrot’s integrity. Then we steamed it for eight minutes. I like cumin, which is not used much in Brazilian kitchens. I mixed together some red and black pepper, cumin leaf and seeds, and cori- ander seeds, then massaged the steamed carrot with the rub. It was grilled (griddled) on the barbecue to add smokiness and then served with the fermented sauce. The dish surprises. There is a lot of butter in the sauce, so it is easy to understand that part of it. But then you’re perplexed by the carrot’s texture and the taste of leaven. I am proud to finish a menu with this dish. Instead of serving a final meat course, I send out this carrot dish. I like to talk about the two or three dishes everyone remem- bers after eating a menu I prepare. The carrot is often among them, which makes me extremely happy. Working with carrot and cauliflower helped me understand that I don’t want too many things on the plate. I want to simplify the dish but still bring all the flavors and textures an ingredient can offer. I like spicy food, but each herb or seed has a role on a plate I create. To cook well is much more than having the best recipe. It’s about understanding each ingredient and creating the best moment for it. I love to think of myself as a fashion designer who has to find the best outfit for each ingredient I receive. Once I followed that path, I was freer to improvise. Lamb, Moura pig, and the perfect carrotDr in ks 76 Ginger bugPlace the ginger in a canning jar. Add the water and sugar and mix well. Cover and leave at room temperature. Open the jar 3–4 times a day, letting the oxygen replenish for 30 seconds each time, then cover it and shake well. Repeat this process for 3–5 days, until the mixture is bubbling. Store in the refrigerator. Spice infusion In a small saucepan, combine the spices with 250 ml of water. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Boil for 2 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat, cover, and infuse for 15 minutes. Stir in the remaining 250 ml of water. Fermented sweet potato Grate the unpeeled sweet potato on a coarse grater. Rinse under cold running water for 20 seconds to remove some of the starch. Place in a bowl and mix with the lemon juice. Reserve. Using a mortar and pestle, crush the chile lightly to extract the flavor. Mix the chile with the sweet potato. Combine the spice infusion, sugar, and passion fruit pulp in a blender, blending for 3 minutes on high speed to dissolve the sugar and oxygenate the mixture. Place the sweet potato mixture in a large glass jar suit- able for fermentation and cover with the blended mixture. Add the water and mix well. Finally, add the ginger bug and stir again. Cover the jar with a cloth or cheesecloth (muslin) and let it ferment at room temperature in a dark place for 3–5 days, until small bubbles form—the time will vary depending on the room’s temperature. Once the liquid is bubbling, it’s ready for the second fermentation. Strain the mixture through a chinois. Pour the mix into a plastic bottle, filling two-thirds of the container and leaving a third free as headspace. Let it ferment for 3–8 days, until the bottle is bloated (due to the production of carbon dioxide). Once fermented, store in the refrigerator until needed. Be careful when opening for the first time—the second fermentation will have produced gas pressure. Fermented sweet potato, chile, and passion fruit This is my favorite welcome drink. The sweet potato and passion fruit we use come from the same farm. So it was inevitable that I pair them to produce this fermented drink. Serves 4 100 g grated organic ginger 300 ml water 15 g sugar 1 g grated dried galangal 0.5 g grated nutmeg 500 ml water 300 g sweet potato 60 ml lemon juice 50 g pimenta de cheiro (green chile pepper) 500 ml Spice Infusion (see here) 180 g sugar 180 g fresh passion fruit pulp 1.5 L water 50 ml Ginger Bug (see here) For the ginger bug For the spice infusion For the fermented sweet potatoDr in ks 76 Ginger bugPlace the ginger in a canning jar. Add the water and sugar and mix well. Cover and leave at room temperature. Open the jar 3–4 times a day, letting the oxygen replenish for 30 seconds each time, then cover it and shake well. Repeat this process for 3–5 days, until the mixture is bubbling. Store in the refrigerator. Spice infusion In a small saucepan, combine the spices with 250 ml of water. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Boil for 2 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat, cover, and infuse for 15 minutes. Stir in the remaining 250 ml of water. Fermented sweet potato Grate the unpeeled sweet potato on a coarse grater. Rinse under cold running water for 20 seconds to remove some of the starch. Place in a bowl and mix with the lemon juice. Reserve. Using a mortar and pestle, crush the chile lightly to extract the flavor. Mix the chile with the sweet potato. Combine the spice infusion, sugar, and passion fruit pulp in a blender, blending for 3 minutes on high speed to dissolve the sugar and oxygenate the mixture. Place the sweet potato mixture in a large glass jar suit- able for fermentation and cover with the blended mixture. Add the water and mix well. Finally, add the ginger bug and stir again. Cover the jar with a cloth or cheesecloth (muslin) and let it ferment at room temperature in a dark place for 3–5 days, until small bubbles form—the time will vary depending on the room’s temperature. Once the liquid is bubbling, it’s ready for the second fermentation. Strain the mixture through a chinois. Pour the mix into a plastic bottle, filling two-thirds of the container and leaving a third free as headspace. Let it ferment for 3–8 days, until the bottle is bloated (due to the production of carbon dioxide). Once fermented, store in the refrigerator until needed. Be careful when opening for the first time—the second fermentation will have produced gas pressure. Fermented sweet potato, chile, and passion fruit This is my favorite welcome drink. The sweet potato and passion fruit we use come from the same farm. So it was inevitable that I pair them to produce this fermented drink. Serves 4 100 g grated organic ginger 300 ml water 15 g sugar 1 g grated dried galangal 0.5 g grated nutmeg 500 ml water 300 g sweet potato 60 ml lemon juice 50 g pimenta de cheiro (green chile pepper) 500 ml Spice Infusion (see here) 180 g sugar 180 g fresh passion fruit pulp 1.5 L water 50 ml Ginger Bug (see here) For the ginger bug For the spice infusion For the fermented sweet potatoDr in ks 98 I receive a lot of very good octopus at the restau- rant, so I decided to make a reduction of it. We tried again and again until I finally discovered it went perfectly with lemon thyme and garlic. Since the protein went into the gel, I made shiso leaf the centerpiece of the dish. Octopus, shiso, and avocado 100 g white fish skin, descaled, dehydrated at 100°F (37°C) for 12 hours pinch of salt 1.5 kg octopus 25 ml rice vinegar 20 g garlic 20 g lemongrass 15 g lemon thyme 1.5 L water 100 g cassava starch 2 ripe avocados juice of 1 lemon pinch of salt 1 garlic clove 100 ml olive oil 4 green shiso leaves, dehydrated at 100°F (37°C) for 3 hours For the fish skin For the octopus reduction For the avocado sauce To serve Serves 4 Fish skinCut the fish skin into little pieces and fry at 400°F (200°C) until it puffs and becomes crispy. Season with salt and store in an airtight container until needed. Octopus reduction In a stockpot, place the octopus, vinegar, garlic, lemongrass, and lemon thyme and cover with the water. Cook for 2 hours. Strain the stock into a medium saucepan, then reduce by half. Stir in the cassava starch and cook for 10 minutes, or until the texture becomes a gel. Avocado sauce With an immersion blender, blend together the avocados, lemon juice, salt, and garlic. Pour in the olive oil in a stream and blend until emulsified. Transfer to a tube or pastry (piping) bag and let cool. To servePlace dots of octopus reduction and avocado sauce on each leaf and then 2 pieces of fish skin. Serve immediately.Dr in ks 98 I receive a lot of very good octopus at the restau- rant, so I decided to make a reduction of it. We tried again and again until I finally discovered it went perfectly with lemon thyme and garlic. Since the protein went into the gel, I made shiso leaf the centerpiece of the dish. Octopus, shiso, and avocado 100 g white fish skin, descaled, dehydrated at 100°F (37°C) for 12 hours pinch of salt 1.5 kg octopus 25 ml rice vinegar 20 g garlic 20 g lemongrass 15 g lemon thyme 1.5 L water 100 g cassava starch 2 ripe avocados juice of 1 lemon pinch of salt 1 garlic clove 100 ml olive oil 4 green shiso leaves, dehydrated at 100°F (37°C) for 3 hours For the fish skin For the octopus reduction For the avocado sauce To serve Serves 4 Fish skinCut the fish skin into little pieces and fry at 400°F (200°C) until it puffs and becomes crispy. Season with salt and store in an airtight container until needed. Octopus reduction In a stockpot, place the octopus, vinegar, garlic, lemongrass, and lemon thyme and cover with the water. Cook for 2 hours. Strain the stock into a medium saucepan, then reduce by half. Stir in the cassava starch and cook for 10 minutes, or until the texture becomes a gel. Avocado sauce With an immersion blender, blend together the avocados, lemon juice, salt, and garlic. Pour in the olive oil in a stream and blend until emulsified. Transfer to a tube or pastry (piping) bag and let cool. To servePlace dots of octopus reduction and avocado sauce on each leaf and then 2 pieces of fish skin. Serve immediately.Next >