Like everywhere else, it has its plusses and minuses. On the downside, the language is impossible to pronounce (at least for me), the city is huge and overwhelming, and it’s a long, long trip from home. On the plus side, our son Seth is living here. That trumps everything.
Twenty-four hours into our visit, I am no longer overwhelmed. I am getting to know his neighborhood and the little café next door where this morning, my huge glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice was about a dollar. We’ve walked into the center of the city and visited the municipal market full of, among other things, exotic fruits that I could never learn to pronounce, but happily tasted. At lunch near the market, I had a plateful of food from the buffet. The farofa, a grain-like Brazilian staple made from yuca flour and butter, was my favorite. It has a pleasing nutty flavor, and I’d be happy to have it be a staple in my home too.
São Paulo is for foodies. Dinner at Mani our first night was off-the-charts wonderful. It would take a food critic to do it justice. I recommend the falsos tortéis de pupunha e abóbora.