The Yakuza drinks White Horse

I had to do a bit of “work” this Saturday. I’m using the quotation marks there to indicate that it was only nominally work, because in fact I went to a bar to drink cachaça. However, it was work because I was on an assignment which hopefully I can reveal in a week or two (mysterious right?). Anyway, I was carrying out my assignment in a bar I’m particularly fond of in the neighbourhood of Catete, not far from where I live. As far as I can tell, the bar is officially named Britan Bar, but the owner is called Zé and so the name that most people use is Bar do Zé. 

Bar do Zé is old and dusty, it doesn’t have air conditioning, it doesn’t look particularly clean and Zé doesn’t seem particularly friendly. For all these reasons it is my favourite bar in Rio.

Bar do Zé - ramshackle in the best possible way.

It has more character than any of those shiny generic bars stuffed full of tourists and rich Cariocas in Ipanema. It has shelves floor to ceiling, each laden with ancient bottles of cachaça. It has a seemingly random selection of sweets (candy) in a jar which looks like it was last stocked sometime in the 1970s; a beaten up old stereo on a shelf alongside some chilli oil, some toilet roll and a packet of lighters for sale.

Zé, who looks about 60, seems like a rather grumpy fellow. On my first couple of visits he was almost entirely monosyllabic, responding mostly in grunts. But on Saturday we witnessed a rather touching scene that showed him up for the sweet guy he really is. An ancient Japanese guy came wandering past outside the bar – he saw Zé and called to him. Zé took one look and just walked away from his position behind the bar and went into a back room. It looked for all the world like a deliberate and rather rude snub. The rest of us exchanged glances and assumed these two must have some history.

The Japanese guy didn’t come in and a few moments later Zé returned to his post and poured a massive glass of White Horse whisky. As if by clockwork, the old Japanese character shuffled in and collected the drink – Zé nodded imperceptibly. As the Japanese guy turned from the bar he muttered to the rest of us “Zé is always making me drink…”. Zé then turns to us and says in his best grumpy voice “30 years he’s been coming here and every time he says this!”

Even though the old Japanese guy spoke without any discernible accent (other than that of a Carioca), it seems that he was long ago dubbed Yakuza by his fellow locals and he is clearly quite a character.

Round 2: More cachaça, more cerveja, bolinhos de aipim. Tough day at the office!

And on top of all this entertainment, Zé cooks up some mean pasteis and bolinhos de aipim. If you’re ever looking for somewhere with a bit less air-conditioning and bit more heart, then pop along to Zé’s and soak it up.