Rio de
Janeiro is the city that worships health and beauty and
where the healthy and the beautiful drink açaí.
Pronounced ah-sah-yee, açaí is more of a lifestyle
option than a foodstuff; a magic fruit potion that fuels
the hedonistic energy of Brazilian beach life.
Shortly
after I moved to Rio, I was told about the açaís berry's
amazing nutritional properties: Brazilians believe it
gives you strength, energy and is great for sex. A
friend told me that when he was having difficulty in
fathering a child, the first thing his doctor
recommended was 'drink lots of açaí'. And it worked!'
The way
it looks is integral to its appeal. It is made from dark
violet berries about the size of a raspberry; a deep,
dense colour that seems weighted down by its nutritional
secrets. It reflects no light and has the texture of
mud. I wasn't immediately sure about the taste, which
was very sweet and medicinal. But by the end of the cup
I was hooked. It is fruity with a chocolatey kick.
The
nutritional breakdown of açaí is prodigious. It has high
levels of iron, calcium, carbohydrates, fibre and
antioxidants. And energy. A small 100g cup has almost
300 calories. Combined with the mystique of its
Amazonian origins, açaí's contents have made it the
beverage of choice for Rio's sporty elite.
Açaí is
indigenous to the flood plains of the Amazon estuary.
The açaí palm regenerates with ease and in areas where
human development has destroyed natural vegetation the
first tree that grows in its place is açaí. (Açaí palms
cover an area equivalent to half the size of
Switzerland.) In this region, its abundance and role as
primary nutritional resource cannot be over-estimated:
it is literally the fruit that has saved many poor
families from starvation.
'Açaí is
the main food staple of river communities in the Amazon
estuary,' says the agronomist Oscar Nogueira. It is
drunk for every meal - in much the same way as bread or
rice is eaten in other cultures.
Having
become an açaí fan in Rio I was keen to visit Belém, the
main city in the Amazon estuary and world centre of
açaí. If ever a city was so strongly defined by a single
fruit, it's Belém. There is a local saying: 'Who arrives
here and stops, drinks açaí and stays.' In Belém more of
the fruit is drunk than milk. An estimated 200,000
litres of the purple liquid is consumed per day among a
population of 1.3 million.
Açaí is
highly perishable and the only way it gets to Rio is in
frozen packages. In Belém, the fruit is always consumed
fresh. Since it goes off within 24 hours, in order to
service the population with fresh açaí on a daily basis
an enormous infrastructure has grown in Belém that
employs an estimated 30,000 people.
The
cycle starts in the rainforest. The açaí palm has a long
thin trunk up to 25m high and a clutch of branches at
the top from which hang ribbon-like leaves. Hundreds of
açaí fruits dangle from branches in clusters that look
like nests of bluebottles.
The
fruit picking is done by hand. In the afternoons,
river-dwellers scramble up the trees, cut off the
branches and climb back down again exactly as they have
done for hundreds of years. In the evening, boats
containing baskets of açaí leave the rainforest heading
for Belém's market, where they arrive in the middle of
the night.
The açaí
market is a dockside next to the city market. By the
early hours small boats have started arriving with
baskets of the fruit which quickly fill the quay. By 3am
men like Armando Ribeiro arrive.
Armando
owns the Casa do Açaí, one of Belém's 3,000 açaí points,
where the fruit is pulped,into juice. Armando buys
several baskets of the best açai and takes it back to
his premises, a small patio in a backstreet. When I
arrive, shortly after 11am, Armando has been pulping the
fruit for an hour. Customer demand for açaí is at
lunchtime, and they prepare it fresh. He pours the fruit
into the pulping machine and keeps on re-pouring the
discharge until the blend is perfect. He sells three
versions; thick (£1), medium (60p) and dilute (40p).
In Belém,
you are never more than a block away from an açaí point.
Wherever you look, your eye always finds a red açaí
sign. I find a bar and order a bowl. It is served like
soup. The taste is almost unrecognisable from what I
have become used to in Rio. The exotic sharpness and
zesty kick is not there. The sensation is of a simple,
neutered, bitter freshness. Açái is not a versatile
fruit since it can only be stored frozen and cannot be
cooked, so for the most part, it continues to be drunk
just as the indians have drunk it for centuries.
For açaí
to catch on outside the Amazon, it needed a pioneer.
That man was Carlos Gracie, the great-grandson of
Scottish immigrants from Dumfries, who was born in Belém
in 1902. In his early teens, a chance meeting with a
Japanese immigrant led to his obsession with the martial
art jiujitsu. In 1922 the Gracies moved to Rio and
Carlos opened Brazil's first jiujitsu academy.
When a
shop near his Copacabana home specialising in obscure
foods started to import frozen açaí, he began to
incorporate it into his diet and also to encourage all
his jujitsu students to drink it. The jujitsu boys were
pin-ups with the best bodies: everyone wanted to know
what 'miracle' potion they were drinking. Soon Rio's
surfers became fans, and gradually the drink crossed
over to become part of beach culture. By the early
1990s, no juice bar could exist without selling it.
The boom
in açaí over the last decade has had more effects than
changing the eating habits of Rio's body-obsessed men
(and women). Scientists have discovered that açaí is
rich in anthocyanins, the group of chemicals in red wine
that are believed to lower the risk of heart disease.
Swig per swig, açaí contains over 10 times more of them
than red wine. It is also rich in essential fatty acids,
calcium and vitamins. Açaí's recent success is also
changing the nature of agriculture in the Amazon
estuary. Agronomists have been successful in developing
ways of cultivating açaí sustainably with high yield. In
the last five years açaí production has tripled and
brought work to poor rural areas. Belém, now has more
than 60 factories that export. 'Açaí is the most
promising product we have here for development,' says de
Jesus.
Açaí was
an Amazonian secret that conquered Brazil. Whenever
friends visit Rio they fall in love with the taste. I
have lost count of the number of excited conversations
about how we could export it around the world. I
discovered recently that I've been beaten to it. A
company in California now imports it to the US and next
month Selfridges will introduce it to British palates.
It may not be the same as sipping it fresh in Rio, but
make no mistake, one day açaí will conquer the globe.