O Rio!
("A Sweet Lightheartedness")

Brazilians' black and white and brown bodies interlock in
volleyball games, in wrestling, in affection. The Cariocas' bodies
are sinewy or supple, whether gliding across the beach,
or moving sensuously in a samba.

Jill Weissich

There are no right angles in Rio de Janeiro; Rio is all curves. The city winds around the mountains, and 53 miles of beaches twist along the base of the foothills. In dental floss bikinis, the Brazilians' tawny bodies are showcased among foam-scalloped waves. Lissome Brazilian models rule! In Rio, life is alegria, a "sweet lightheartedness," amidst the music and the sun and the sea. High above Ipanema Beach, a tram is suspended mid-air, nosing up Sugar Loaf Mountain. Corcovado, which means hump-backed mountain, is Rio's highest point, from which the 98-foot statue of Cristo Redentor stands. The statue, of reinforced concrete, is covered in limestone. Illuminated by night, and even shrouded in fog, the Redeemer's perennially outstretched arms are visible as He blesses the city, whose motto may well be:

"There is no sin below the equator."

Rio's Parque Nacional da Tijuca is the largest urban park in the world where enormous butterflies swoop over caves, waterfalls and the canopied rainforest, all that remain of the tropical jungle which once surrounded Rio.

If Brazil symbolizes a tropical paradise, Rio de Janeiro is the Cidade Maravilhosa or, Marvelous City. Rio is known for Carnaval, the riotous celebration at the beginning of Lent. Rio embodies the festival conception of life, from the city's samba schools to the Carnaval balls. During Carnaval, the entire city of Rio, from the poorest in the favelas to the politicians and stars, mingle in a contagious, costumed revelry. Months after Carnaval is past, Cariocas, (the locals of Rio) show fading glossies of their elaborate costumes.

"Sadness has no end. But happiness does" was written about Rio's working poor, who save all year for a costume for Carnaval, "a single moment of fantasy."

Carnaval signifies the start of Lent, the forty-day period when Catholics abstain from a particular pleasure in preparation for Easter. The days of Carnaval are a savored indulgence of what will be missed. Thirsty Cariocas sacrifice caipirinha. Now the rage in Europe, this Brazilian drink is made from cachaça (Brazilian sugarcane liquor), lime and sugar.

The Cariocas do drink in style, after work, in an area called Telles Arch. At 5:00, bars set up their tables and chairs outside along narrow alleys winding through the business district of downtown Rio. Soon dozens of barefooted children appear, handing out tiny cornucopias of peanuts. The peanuts are followed by beer such as Bohemia, or Cerpa. Draft beer is chope. More peanuts are sold, and many more cold beers and snacks, such as cheese, twisted around a stick, cheese patties or deep-fried codfish balls. Local men and women, jostling for a seat at the tables, eye each other while shedding blazers, neckties, and shirts in the tropical heat. Alegria!

Although the word Carnaval sounds primitive—even exotic—"carne-vale," means "abstinence from meat." Brazil is cattle country, and the tang of roasting meat is in the air everywhere: sold at street stalls, meat on sticks is dipped in hot sauces; in snack bars, or on the beach, as an aperitivo.

In a bar, a group will share a fillet cooked with spring onions, spearing it with toothpicks; in pubs, it's sliced in sandwiches, or barbecuing on skewers.

Brazil's cattle industry is one of the world's best, and nowhere will you find beef in such glory, drama, quantity and flavor than at the Restaurant Marius.

Located on Copacabana Beach, Marius is in a huge space, befitting the enormity of this dining experience. The tones of the restaurant are muted; the wood and burlap and straw interior is the sole aspect of Marius which is understated.

From the ceiling, huge, gleaming copper pans hang above a cosmopolitan buffet. Bresaola, covered with fresh ground Parmesan is arrayed between a cascade of hearts of palm, and a platter of deep red, ripe tomatoes. Select one tomato, and an attentive waiter appears with a sizzling pan of bubbling mozzarella cheese.

A cart with leather covered wheels, befitting a covered wagon, holds covered platters of feijoada, (the National dish of Brazil,) individual fish dishes and lasagna.

Achingly fresh sushi and sashimi are accented with bowls of fresh shredded ginger, green horseradish and soy sauce. But after sampling the salads, lasagna, a perfect sushi and the sashimi, one turns to the true point of Marius.

Costumed in a billowing white shirt, the waiter approaches. Like a matador, he bears a long skewer held at an angle. As he carves a slice off the body of the roast, it is considered good etiquette to spear the slice before it flops onto the plate. A pewter dish is anchored to the bottom of the carver's rigging to catch the dripping fat.

The roasts, charcoaled and burnt fiercely on the outside, when sliced, reveal the pink flesh beneath. After the roast came a serving of wild boar, a very high, gamy taste, followed by a filet mignon. For variety, there were skewers of roast chicken, chicken gizzards, and chicken hearts.

One is expected to have several pieces of each offering. It's easy to do since you never see a giant filet steak on your plate, but only a slice at a time. It looks too good to refuse. It tastes too good to refuse.

In Brazil, everyone who can afford it eats meat with a vengeance. It is the staff of life; from the vast ranches comes the wealth of Brazil. As the waiters carve, and as patrons dine, "carnal" (as in desire) here takes on a new meaning. On each table stands a silver globe, which the diner turns. When turned to green, it signals the waiter to "keep serving;" yellow means "serve, but more slowly;" and red is "stop!" The price for the feast: $32.00, or $16.00 without the meat service. Children are free.

Waves and Swing

The last surviving open-air tram ascends up the steep hills to the Montmartre district. Rio's Santa Teresa is a colorful neighborhood, where once elegant mansions now stand in raffish disrepair. A tiny museum, Museu Chácara do Céu (Little House of Heaven) displays 18^th- and 19^th-century landscapes, the Brazilian artists interpretation of the New World.

The Museum is set in manicured gardens, which affords a 360-degree view of Rio, including the pink-roofed favelas. These shantytowns of Rio's poor tumble down the hills onto the pavements' curving patterns, one of which is Avenida Atlântica. On this broad pedestrian walkway in front of the round Hotel Rio Internacional, in an Escher-like design, the letter "S" undulates, not unlike the nearby waves. A blindfolded Rio native, they say, could identify which barrio he was in from the sidewalk's design.

Across from the Rio Internacional, on Copacabana Beach, the Brazilians' black and white and brown bodies interlock in volleyball games, in wrestling, in affection. The Cariocas' bodies are sinewy or supple, whether gliding across the beach, or moving sensuously in a samba. From Copacabana Beach, an open-air jeep can get to the harbor in ten minutes. Another perspective of Rio is that from a sailboat in Guanabara Bay. The modern city sparkles above the grassy Esplanade.

On the opposite side of the bay is the island of Niterói, where the Museu de Arte Contemporânea is located. As dramatic as the Bilbao Guggenheim, this museum has been compared to a flying saucer. Its improbably narrow base expands into a symmetrical, circular structure. Defying gravity, and suspended in space, the circumference of the museum billows out over the water. Why was this fantastic structure built on Niterói rather than Rio? Oscar Niemeyer, who also designed Brasília, the capital of Brazil, explained:

"At the Museu de Arte Contemporânea in Niterói, the landscape gave me the main guidelines. Everything started when I deliberately dismissed the highly-praised right angle. This world of curves arose naturally from where I lived, white sand beaches, huge mountains, old baroque churches and beautiful sun-tanned women. In all sketches, the curve prevails as an omnipresent element."

To enter the Museu de Arte Contemporânea, ascend the slight slope of a shocking pink ramp which unfurls, invitingly. Glimpses of Rio's coastline are visible across the bay. Inside, the museum's 28' round base displays the art while the museum's exterior circumference consists of windows. Less resembling a flying saucer, the interior is more like the inside of a stationary top. But multiple visions of Rio, each framed by a windowpanes makes the site of the museum much more than understandable, the choice of Niterói was inevitable. Each pane of the museum's windows highlights an aspect of Ipanema or Copacabana Beach or Rio itself, which only distance makes visible. Alegria! The antic esthetic of the Museum's shimmering exterior rivals the artwork, already challenged by the framed views of Rio's beaches. The island of Niterói is accessible from the water, or by driving across Ponte Costa e Silva, the second largest single span bridge in the world.

Brazil's national dish, feijoada, is made with cured beef, baby back spare ribs, and choriço, for example. To describe the dish as a stew fails to do justice to this feast. That feijoada is a black bean based dish, served with a starchy grain called manioc, is true. But combine the sweetness of the sausages with the tang of sharp onions; pair the rough texture of cured beef with juicy orange slices. The result is a dramatic and unpredictable dish, equivalent to the surprises of a piñata. Feijoada is eaten in great style, almost only on Saturday afternoons.

At Delightful, a restaurant on Delightful Street, the entrance is through a rough gate in a stone wall. In the garden, four chefs in white toques bustled over the round stone oven, and the open grill. The feijoada was served over rice on ceramic plates. But oh! the accompaniments! Slices of orange ringed the ceramic platter amidst onions, bay leaves and heaping manioc.

Because of the heat, beer is more popular than wine. Bohemia is available in bottles but the draft beer, chope, is the favorite. Brazil's national soft drink is guaraná, from a red fruit in the Amazon forest. Guaraná tastes like cream soda but its caffeine content may be the source of its popularity in a population that starts the evening at 11 p.m, and is on parade at 8:00 a.m. the next day.

Brazilian desserts include papaya and mango puddings, "angel's Belly," made of egg yolks and sugar and "baba de moça", the "drool of a virgin."

Oh, sweet light heartedness!

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If You Go:

Hotel: Rio Internacional, Av Atlântica 1500, Tel: 543-1555

Major Credit Cards, US $175

Marius Restaurant, Av Atlântica 290, Tel and Fax: 542-2393

Open Daily, Major Credit Cards

First you need a Visa, which costs about $45 and you need three passport-sized photos.

Airport Departure tax is another $40

Jill Weissich, an attorney, is the Travel and Food Editor for San Francisco Attorney Magazine and has contributed to several other publications. She can be reached at jweissich@excite.com 

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