Since before the lockdown, I hadn't returned to Samba Brasil, on Lepant Street, 297, in Sagrada Família. It's a very simple establishment, with a metal bar and four tables, where the owner, Pedro, makes the best caipirinhas you will have ever tasted, except, of course, if you have traveled to Brazil or ---like him--- were born there. The secret to this simple marvel is a mix of things. Making a cocktail like a caipirinha or a mojito is a bit more laborious, for example, than making a negroni or a margarita. I'm not saying negronis or margaritas aren't laborious to make. I'm saying that in the case of a caipirinha or a mojito, the barman has to do more than just mix. That's why I don't order these two cocktails, caipirinha and mojito, just anywhere, only where I know they will make them properly.
The secret of Samba Brasil is many things at once. Firstly, the limes, which Pedro gets from Mercabarna. They can't be just any limes, because they need to yield good juice. Secondly, the cachaça, which he brings from Brazil. In Barcelona, if you want to buy it to make the cocktail at home, you'll find some brands, not many. Pitú, Velho Barreiro... They are not sold in all liquor stores. You'll surely find them at Lafuente grocery store. Thirdly, the ice. To make a good caipirinha, the ice should be broken in the palm of your hand with a pestle (the pestle that the cachaça brand Pitú used to give you not long ago if you bought a bottle) and which at home can be the mortar pestle for alioli.
It's not easy to do. If you're not used to it, it hurts. If it doesn't work out, the clumsy way is to wrap the ice cubes in a napkin and crush them against the marble. I would say that Health regulations don't allow barmen to crush ice in their hand, unless they wear gloves, and that's why in many cocktail bars the ice is machine-crushed (or bought directly smaller). For me, the charm of a caipirinha is that the ice is irregular and doesn't water down quickly. At home, the mortar pestle can also serve us, in addition to crushing ice, to crush the lemon slices inside the glass, with the sugar, and extract the juice. In this case, we will do it with the narrow part, the one we would use to hold it. We must try not to crush the skin too much (that's why we cut it into slices) because otherwise, the cocktail will be bitter.
The glass must be one of those, simple, like those of the Duralex brand. Pedro has them like that. No fancy glasses. Duralex glasses. And, very important, to mix, we cover the glass with another glass and shake. At Samba Brasil, the shelves behind the bar are full of glasses with the lime cut, ready to be prepared. Watching it being made is a beautiful spectacle.
Pedro tells me that his clients, of course, do not drink this cocktail at twelve in the morning. If anything, they drink it after lunch or before dinner, but, above all, above all, after dinner. That is why the curfew has harmed him and at noon he has decided to make vermouths.
When, wanting or not wanting, you stop doing something you used to do (reading, going out to dinner, going to the theater ...) you quickly forget it. These are pleasurable needs that we have created ourselves. I had forgotten the existence of Samba Brasil. But today, with this heat, the city quite empty, the Phenomena cinema waiting for me, I thought: "Samba Brasil!".
And what a joy, to see Pedro again, so friendly, with such a powerful nose to detect, immediately, good restaurants, with such an extraordinary ease to find life beautiful and enjoy it... I sat at the bar, I watched the usual TV, with the video clips, and I said: "A caipirinha". And immediately Pedro put that bowl full of corn mixture, peanuts... I sipped and I was happy.