My kids already know what “quitanda” is. Their eyes fill with joy when they see the cookie jars, be them sweet or savoury, the suspiros, goiabinhas, everything that is served during afternoon snacks or along with coffee (they don’t drink coffee yet, but they know all about what comes along with it).
This set of delicacies made from a flour dough, be it wheat, manioc, corn, or arrowroot, is named after a word commonly used in Minas Gerais – in my home, we always used it in the plural: “I went to buy some quitandas so we can have a cup of coffee!” Is there a warmer time than this one?
They could be bought in the store around the corner, but the homemade variety was even more flavourful. That’s where the notebooks of family recipes come in. In the handwriting of our grandma or godmother, we recognize the affection they still give us. In the same way, we give special meaning to everything that comes out of the oven, everything that is served in a jar or in a nice tray. Our recipes dialog with indigenous women, the ladies of the house, the slaves, the nuns – the hands of confectioners who knew how to make cookies, biscuits, cakes, cupcakes, breads, and doughnuts to bright up our lives.
If Portugal already knew the tradition of cakes as a way of celebrating a special occasion, be it a christening, an engagement or wake, over here the custom quickly spread out. Cakes were combined with fruits, manioc and corn flour, sugar and rapadura. And nothing was offended by any influence, be them from European immigrants or from neighbouring countries. Our spread of breads and quitandas welcomed them all. We do not turn fancy confectionary away, but we do everything our own way. With some coffee on the side – because that’s how we like it.