Opinion – Cozinha Bruta: Brazil forces me to stop drinking

I’m privileged, I don’t deny it, I know that.

I’ve never been hungry in my life and I hope I never will.

However, the crazy rise in food prices has forced me to change eating habits that I wish I could keep. I imagine that many of you privileged colleagues are in a similar situation.

It’s been a while since I’ve only chewed filet mignon when I have dinner by invitation – a very specific privilege of the food journalist. Rump steak? Pffffffff! My fridge hasn’t seen it for years.

Like many other Brazilians, I replaced beef with chicken, eggs and pork. Sausage is the new steak.

At the supermarket, I became a prime loyalty plus customer of the food shelf at the expiration date spout. It’s a lousy deal to buy milk and loaf of bread, but it works well for certain items.

Hard cheeses, for example. They are valid because the law requires it. Vacuum packed, in the fridge, last longer than a lot of relationships out there.

Just yesterday, I put a Spanish Manchego cheese in my bag for R$39.99 for less than ten contos. El Duque de La Polvorosa, what a wonderful name.

I switched from coffee to a more ordinary type, which was also too expensive. Then I lowered it again, to a more cheesy brand. Same thing with olive oil, cooking oil and toilet paper… let’s just stick to the food.

With a pain in my heart, I abandoned the fresh cream. I make some recipes with the bottom UHT cream. But everything has a limit: if you’re going to spoil your food with whey emulsion, vegetable fat and cornstarch, better embrace veganism.

And take tomato inflation, carrot inflation, onion inflation, milk and cheese inflation, meat inflation. Beer inflation is already announced. Oh, done! The same Brazil that forces us to drink will now force us to stop drinking. Staring dry at this nightmare is going to be bullshit.

I complain, but I’m fine. I don’t need to resort to beef bones, chicken feet, ham burrs, old cheese rinds, fish bones, rice shards, broken beans or garbage.

The relative comfort doesn’t stop me from feeling butterflies in my stomach as we plummet collectively, without brakes and with our belts unbuckled, down the hill.

I’m vintage, I lived in times of uncontrolled inflation. In the 1980s, people shopped for the entire month on the day the check was due—tomorrow prices would be higher.

A habit that is making a comeback, with one crucial difference. In those days, the salary was readjusted from time to time to make up for losses. In fact, two businesses called “salary” and “registered employment” were common.

Those who worked had legal guarantees and unions that pressed for compliance with the law.

It is necessary to stop the demolition of Brazil, but the reconstruction will take time. For now, we are in the woods without a dog, without a father or mother, without picanha, without beer. It’s horrible, it’s going to get worse and it’s going to be dry.

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