Brazilian Desserts: the Sacolé

Pernambucanos calls it "sacolé" or "dudu." Cariocas call it "sacolete" and Mineiros refer to it as a "chup-chup." Whatever you call it, these popsicles-in-a-sack are refreshing and so dang good. The recipe is simple: pureed fruit, milk, and condensed milk. Mix it all together, stick it in a long plastic sack and freeze. Or, do no work and buy them cheap off the street for 1 Real each (about 25-30 cents depending on the exchange rate). I am a little embarrassed it took me this long to discover them, but I have since made up for it by having tried every flavor made by the local vendor: coconut, chocolate-banana, strawberry, peanut, raspberry, and my current favorite: passion fruit (maracujá).

dim-dim, big-bem, juju, flautinha, chopp, brasinha...
I feel a little dirty listing off these nicknames.

Jose and his dessert cart.

Staying in Maracaipe

Overall, our resort stay at the Xale de Maracaipe was pretty good: clean, quiet, and with plenty of grass to run around on. There was a "farm" which consisted of guinea pigs, rabbits and a token rooster- all of which were visited multiple times a day. Sheep are used to cut the grass as evidenced by poops on the lawn but during our stay they were sequestered elsewhere. We enjoyed the pool and certainly enjoyed the hammocks provided. The restaurant put on a fantastic breakfast buffet, but meals after that suffered  tremendously: freezer burnt chicken, weird gooey fish, and stiff unsavory macaxeira fries. Next time we will bring a grill and more food from home. Plus better beer. 

I liked the layout of the house we stayed in and the rooms had plenty of pillows and towels, but no blankets. I took a poll with some friends of mine, and consensus was 50/50 on this being a bad thing. Personally, I like sleeping with blankets so when we had to return to Recife for a work event in the middle of our stay, I felt no qualms about stuffing our car with more comfort measures. By the end of the week, we were all oversaturated with sand, sun and chlorine and excited to get back to the city. 

Below are a few random shots Mark and I took at the Xale de Maracaipe throughout the week...

An impressive amount of stars. 

I imagine these girls growing old together
and doing the same thing when they are 80.   

Cactus shadow puppets.

Grandma and grandpa being romantic.

Rope.

Sunset. 

Collecting shells.

Pool time.

Grandma and Deets fighting waves.

Seahorses in Maracaipe

Not more than 20 feet from the Xale de Maracaipe entrance is a dirt road leading to the Maracaipe River where the shore and mangroves are thick with noisy tropical birds, crabs of all shapes and sizes, and schools of fish. Hidden among the obvious wildlife are teeny seahorses too- and I was nearly beside myself when I found out we could take a tour to see them. It meant walking through a river bed of squelchy mud that sucked off our shoes, and tiptoeing among literally thousands of tiny crabs sunning themselves during low tide to get to the wooden boats.  All in the unforgiving and rising heat of the morning. 

Regardless my family followed me, with smiles on their faces more or less. The tour was simple enough, a quiet ride along the river with a few stops along seemingly dry roots which would later be fully submerged at high tide. In order to preserve the tranquility of the water, only one snorkeler was out looking for seahorses. He quickly produced a few, placing them in a jar for better viewing. We admired their delicate features and continued on our way. 

Deets was more impressed with Grandpa telling him he found a sea snake (leftover skin of a recently poached fish) and watching two crabs fight over the meat. Margo was more impressed with her feet not getting eaten by fish or crabs. She opted to ignore everything and pout. Regardless, I enjoyed our cute adventure and walked away from the swampy heat of the morning with the same smile I walked in with. 

Boats on the Maracaipe River

Me overly excited.

Snorkeling for sea horses hooked around the mangrove roots.

Yay!

So tiny!

Battling it out.

Surfing in Maracaipe

 A few weeks ago Mark humored me and tried standup paddle boarding with the kids. He liked it well enough but I could tell his mind was really on surfing. Upon the Schlink grandparent arrival, we whisked off to Maracaipe for a family beach vacay which would include daily surf lessons with Sergio Rocha, a local surf legend. (Check him out on Instagram too.) Beyond the basics of standing and balancing we learned surfing mostly involves extreme patience: when to paddle, when to stand up, or when to wait. Having a teacher made it easy because he gave us a push and yelled when to stand up. I loved this because it gave me a huge window for success without having to think about anything. I'd feel so badass and on top of the world! When I surfed by myself, I felt infinitely frustrated as I'd miss opportunity after opportunity to catch a proper wave. I got to the point of being sea sick from all that floating and bobbing. But Mark-- he practiced for hours despite exhaustion, sore muscles, and bloodshot eyes. He loved every minute of it.

Geared up and ready.

Getting ready to stand up.

Even Grandpa took a few lessons.

Deets catching a wave.

Sergio: he literally never stops smiling.
Schedule your lesson:
https://www.facebook.com/aulasdesurfsergiosurf/?fref=ps_result

Maria Amor Kids Wear Photoshoot

Margo and I participated in a clothing photo shoot for a friend of mine who started up a new business, Maria Amor Kids Wear in Recife. Her vision: clean lines, simple patterns, and "season-less design" for year round wearing. More importantly, her clothes are timeless. Seeing them brought back memories of my own mom dressing me in smock dresses with pleated school girl collars. 

The adorability factor shot through the roof as the girls donned the oh-so-precious frocks as they played tag, jumped off benches and pretended they were monsters. Even Deets let me take his photo wearing a cutie-pie henley and shorts. It only took an ice cream bribery. 

I never realized how stinking hard it is to capture the moments with effervescent children- getting them to look in the same direction and smile at the same time was damn near impossible.  Maria took one side and I took the other. Together we took maybe 400 photos.  The photo below was the only one with all three that turned out that Maria captured. I like to call it: The Blond, The Brunette, The Redhead. The following photos are my attempts to capture the sweetness and stillness of childhood. Man. I've gotta practice more. A lot more.  

Cheeeeeeez!
by Maria Joao Vaz

Those cheeks. Those eyes...

Getting ready to take off. Again.

Taking a breather. 

Male model.

Deets' fake business smile.

Margo's portrait was also featured here:
https://www.socialland.com.br/v1/zona-sul-recife-ganha-grife-de-moda-infantil/

The girlies.

Tag!

And... they're off. Again. 

Gyms in Recife II - Fight Warehouse

This week I reconnected with a couple friends I met earlier in the year. Facilitated by a mutual friend, I had the pleasure of meeting Renata and Andrew and their three children back in January. She's from Recife, he's from Kansas City. We managed to hang out a few but... life got busy for everyone in its usual fashion. I realized after missing them for several months, my promised night of homemade pizza was left unfulfilled. So I did something about it: I asked them for advice on anti-worm and parasite medications in Brazil. Makes sense, right? Isn't that what you would do in this situation?

In any case, Renata answered my questions right away as if it was a completely normal topic. We got to talking about other things and she apologized for having been off the map because she decided to open her own martial arts and fighting gym. She'd always been active with particular interests in boxing and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. In fact, I first met her with taped fingers and a body full of impressive bruises. The decision to open a gym was based on the desire to consolidate her time between raising twin toddlers and a first grader, running a household and a full time job, and getting in decent workouts. Before she even knew it, the idea grew from grew from having a small space with mats and a few punching bags, to an entire warehouse. Thus they christened the name: Fight Warehouse. She invited me over to check it out the next day. Or maybe I invited myself, I can't remember. 

Renata and her team collectively agreed if they were going to do this, they'd do it right. Renata flew to Thailand to handpick Muay Thai trainers. She accessed Brazil's impressive network of burgeoning boxers and Jiu Jitsu fighters. Culture, tradition, and respect would be taught in all aspects of each sport. They planned carefully, putting in an official size boxing ring and octagon cage for competitions, plus plenty of extra space for sparring, conditioning, bag training on the mat; showers, and kitchen space space off the mat.

When I walked in I immediately wanted to punch something. There's something about entering through a corrugated storage container and into a graffiti'd, 650 sq meter space. I wanted to do handstands on the training mat, and run around Mortal Kombating the punching bags. Even though the gym was still, I could feel the energy. And maybe a little intimidation, but the staff made it clear: everyone would be welcome regardless of experience or size. They should know- one of their bosses stands maybe 5 feet tall and 90 pounds. After touring the facility and catching up with Renata and Andrew, they talked me into trying a Muay Thai class with technical coordinator and trainer Ronaldo Calado. I learned a few basics: elbow blocks, kicks, and punches. We discussed Muay Thai greetings and customs.  I didn't feel patronized even after I punched myself in the face.  My natural tendency was also to revert back to the kicks and prances Billy Blanks' tai bo style I learned in high school. I appreciated his attention on my practice, relaying to me the importance of steadiness and consistency.

Even at my age, I don't feel like an adult. I still feel attached to the sensation of being a kid, figuring out what to do with my life, even though I am exactly where I should be right now. I asked Renata and Andrew if they felt old enough to be owners of something so colossal- they both laughed but said it definitely felt right to invest in something so personal and meaningful. I have certainty their adventure will take off with the attitudes and priorities they've already established in their lives. Now speaking of priorities: pizza. We promised it would happen before the end of the year. I feel good about that and I will make sure I don't talk about parasite medications while we eat. How's that for a plan?

The FW team

Traditional blessing: autographing  the wall with
Patricky Pitbill Freire

View from the VIP section (ie: top of a storage container)

The Octagon - I can't believe I didn't think to get in there.

The VIP Box

Stand Up Paddle Boarding in Recife

Going on a social cue, the kids and I crashed someones birthday party that was held at a vaguely described restaurant "just past Barria de Jangada but before the Paiva toll" on the right hand side. Already 2 hours late due to an unpredictable nap, my timely anal self I doubted I could find the place, let alone enjoy it. But fun doesn't make itself, so I ignored my stress sweat and set about. Thirty minutes later and a 100 feet before the toll I was desperate to avoid, I found the 'secret' dirt road leading to the place I was looking for. Relieved and a little embarrassed about how easy it was to get here, I met my friends at a restaurant located right next to the Paiva Bridge, on a calm inlet of water which eventually splits into two rivers. It makes you feel so far away from the city.

Upon returning the next week to go paddle boarding, I learned the name of the dock/restaurant is called Imporio de Sabor- and there are two others squished together on the dead end road. Each has a swimming pool, plenty of dance space, and opportunities to rent boats, jet skis, and paddle boards. All three are popular places for parties. In fact, a lucky couple got hitched on an overlooking patio that same day, starting their future just as I drifted by, half squatting on stand up paddle board. Lucky couple. 

The Escola de Stand Up Paddle is based out of Imporio de Sabor. While people can make reservations, we just showed up. The instructor, like any water-based sport junkie I've met, was laid back and happy to help. We received a quick how-to and got on our boards. I enjoyed the scenery: birds, trees, and clouds, a very buff man doing yoga on his board...  I considered trying some briefly, but then a fat old man nearly "drove" his wooden boat into us. I say "drove" because was actually taking photos of either himself, or his roaring engine. I couldn't tell, but with danger averted we continued our fun. In the end customer service was top-notch and the school offers up great package deals- it's something I'm excited to do again and again. Plus I know what do to when my in-laws visit.

In between paddling, we enjoyed the classics: shared bombers of ice cold beer, hot soups, tuna steaks and fried macaxeira (manioc or disconcertingly bright sour-nutty flavor. It is, after all a legume so I shouldn't have been surprised but it's times like this I realize how little I know about the world. My friends determined that I was in desperate need of trying more Brazilian street food and later that night introduced me to acarajé: a giant ball of deep fried bean paste cut in half, stuffed with spicy shrimp, cashew and peanut paste, and topped with green tomatoes. They said "you have to get through the first one, and after that you'll be hooked." Verdict is still out on that one, but I ate my bean ball with enthusiasm. 

View from the restaurant patio. 

The dock.

Suco de tamarindo 

Live music every weekend

How can you not love Brazil with views like this?

acaraje balls

Best served piping hot.