Pequi

Simmered whole in the pot, the oily pulp coats every grain; this is the entire point of arroz com pequi.

Braised together, the fat renders into the sauce until the meat tastes faintly of the fruit.

Cuts through a pulp fatty enough to coat a whole pot on its own.

A base sofrito stops the resinous fat from tasting one-note by the second bite.

Warmth against an oily musk that otherwise sits heavy on the palate.

A squeeze at the table cuts a fat this dense; the cerrado serves it alongside, not stirred in.

Two dense tropical fats stacked; the pequi stays savoury where the coconut stays sweet.

The pulp is sometimes steeped straight into the spirit, the fat carrying the musk into every sip.

Aged umami against a fatty resinous pulp, a European cheese doing a cerrado accent.