Misto Quente
I love cooking. I love eating out too. I love discovering new food and I even enjoy shopping for food (the only form of shopping I do enjoy…). I am not a ‘foodie’. Urgh! Maybe this is just me, but foodie makes me think of some pompous bore endlessly questioning the ‘provenance’ of this and the ‘sourcing’ of that. You know, this kind of thing:
I’m all for locally sourced, seasonal food and all that, but there’s a time and a place. If you find yourself interrogating guests who bring food to your BBQ/Churrasco (“…are those sausages organic?!), it’s time to ask yourself a few questions…
Not being a pretentious food obsessive (well, hopefully not all the time!) means that I am free to enjoy the unsophisticated, deliciousness of Misto Quente (in the Carioca accent this sounds like Meesh-toe Kayntch). ‘Misto’ means mixed, ‘Quente’ means hot.
I have discovered all kinds of exotic ingredients and dishes in Brazil, but Misto Quente is pretty down to earth. Two slices of toasted bread, ham and melted cheese. In Britain we call it a Ham and Cheese Toasty. Here in Brazil you can find Misto Quente practically everywhere.
It may not look pretty, but let me tell you, this particular Misto Quente was amazing! It was a chilly morning in Ibitipoca National Park, Minas Gerais and we were suffering the obligatory hangover of New Year’s Day, made worse by a bad night’s sleep in a tent. Hot, crispy bread, salty ham from the hotplate and melting Minas Frescal (locally sourced cheese!) made this a winner!
Like I said, certainly not high-brow food sophistication, but sometimes you just want something simple and yummy, right?
As well as being a quick and tasty snack, Misto Quente has another association. Some time ago I was wandering along a street and passed one of those shops that has a book stand out on the street. You know, those revolving racks like the ones that hold postcards. I glanced over and saw the name Bukowski. This piqued my curiosity as I’ve read a few of his books, so I stopped to see which one this was. The title was Misto Quente. “Misto Quente?” I thought. I didn’t know of any of his books called toasted cheese sandwich! Then it dawned on me – Ham on Rye! As an equivalent everyday snack, I guess it’s a pretty good translation, but it does lose some of the potential references to the original.
So, next time you’re in Brazil and don’t feel like tacacá, moqueca or acarajé, why not ask for a nice, tasty Misto Quente?
Yum! That makes me hungry just looking at it. The bread looks nice and soft with all that melted cheese. I just want to take a bite.
Hi Lori! :) I have to tell you, it was really good! And despite all that talk about ‘foodies’, I have to confess I was very excited about the cheese because it was my first taste of real Minas cheese from Minas Gerais! I was not disappointed.
Tom, you said it all about the food! I feel pretty much the same way. As for the book title, I don’t envy a translator’s job of trying to capture all those different nuances and interpretations. I think “Misto Quente” is rather a good compromise. It sure beats the Brazilian titles of so many movies and TV shows.
Yeah, who’d be a translator? Tough/impossible job sometimes. At first I thought it was pretty funny because in my head I translated it back to the British equivalent, and “Charles Bukowski’s book ‘Ham & Cheese Toasty'” sounds pretty funny. But as you say, it is a good compromise, and it would be impossible to get all the connotations of the language. I wonder if anyone ever tried to translate Dylan Thomas – impossible!
“Ham and Cheese Toasty by Charles Bukowski” sounds brilliant! The translator could’ve called it “Tostex” (another word for the sandwich, named after the device used to prepare it), now that would’ve sucked. :)
Imagine the poor souls that had to translate Finnegans Wake. The man didn’t even use real words (i.e., ones you can find in a dictionary). I can’t say I’ve attempted to read it in either language but, from what I’ve heard, the translators had to invent many new Portuguese words (an Irish dialect of Portuguese, maybe?) to try and capture the original spirit of the text.
When you enter an establishment wanting a mixto-quente ; yet the server tells you they only carry the French version then you know you are standing in pompous territory and are about to be overcharged for a bunch of crock (monsieur that is).
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Croque-monsieur
Be aware of any bakery that adopts said designation for a ham and cheese sandwich: the owner has issues.
Heh heh – I think (and hope!) that we are a long way from that situation here in Rio.
Whilst we’re on the subject, I always found it surprising that France (a country that I’m guessing was fairly male-dominated during the time of toasted cheese sandwich development) took croque monsieur for the guys and left the far superior croque madamme (the same thing but with an egg!) for the ladies. Could this have been pure chivalry on the part of les hommes de la France?
Tom,
They were giving their ladeis an ovation.
It appears that no one has taken the opportunity to look up and study the many historical underpinnings behind my Grittjokes. Sometimes I wonder why I bother . . .
Oh, and I bet you anything that someone has already substitute the term Mixto-quente for Croque-monseiur in Rio, plus raised the price 2 reais after doing so.
Next time check out cafes in your local airport: they seem to love vocab affectations of the sort – to then add a surcharge to whichever already extremely overpriced item subjected to so called name upgrade . The day a rodoviaria snack bar starts calling a coxinha some frenched up name (perhaps La Petit Artère Cloggèr) is the day you should consider taking a bus to another country.
Gritty, in my book that’s a good joke. But I should warn you, that isn’t a big compliment… My sense of humour has had aspersions cast upon it by all and sundry.