For me, the most mouthwatering scenes in the film version of Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands—Jorge Amado’s exuberant novel about love, sex, food, and music in Bahia—are not the ones of the young Sonia Braga without a stitch of clothing on, but rather the ones of Braga, dressed, making moqueca de siri mole, soft-shelled crab stew. The camera hovers hungrily over the pot as the crabs, tomatoes, onions, and peppers simmer in the bubbling coconut milk and palm oil. Dadá’s version of the dish tastes as good as Dona Flor’s looked, and it inspires diners to dreamy flights of hyperbole. I ask my wife which flavors stand out the most for her, and she says, “Happiness and peace.”
Happiness, if not peace, is the mood at Rock in Rio, a big club where the Sunday-night crowd of several hundred is as young as at the Ilê Aiyê show. We stand near the stage until the curtain rises on Estakazero, a band that plays forró, the music of Brazil’s arid northeast, which includes the state of Bahia. Forró is country music, but being Brazilian, it has a strong beat: Next to Estakazero’s singer-guitarist, accordionist, and triangle player stands a guy whacking a bass drum, the onomatopoeic zabumba. It’s jangly, infectious music, and Estakazero plays a high-octane version that appeals to the young, a salesman at a CD store tells us later. The worst new sound, he says with disgust, is the hybrid of forró and the lambada played by a band called Calcinha Preta (“Black Panties”).
Two nights later, on a stage at the top of the Largo do Pelourinho in the Old City, Grupo Everest backs up Aloísio do Cavaco as he sings pagode, a version of the samba that gives more emphasis to the cavaquinho. Aloísio is a natty gent of 77 dressed in white trousers, a long-sleeved teal shirt, and a Panama hat with a black brim. As he sings, he marches in place, waves his red ukulele, and points out toward the crowd spaced down the steep square. It is Tuesday, Ogum’s day, and the Old City is given over to the weekly musical celebration in which stages are set up on the Largo do Pelourinho and the Terreiro de Jesus, and bands perform free.
We end up at Axego, a little restaurant with a view of the square, and follow the music over bolinhos de bacalhau (deep-fried codfish balls) and the house specialty, carne de fumeiro (chunks of smoked pork served with manioc flour, chopped tomatoes, and onions). Down behind the stage, a pretty, slender young woman with café au lait skin is doing a private samba for her boyfriend, who watches admiringly and claps his hands to the band’s beat. Hips undulating, elbows out, she can’t seem to stop, and the grin on her guy’s face bespeaks all the promise of an evening that has just begun, with a woman who can move like that.
Most Tuesday nights, Olodum, the famed bloco afro that has recorded with Paul Simon and Michael Jackson, performs on its own covered stage in the nearby Largo de Teresa Batista, but this week the band is taking a break. Still, there’s no percussion deficit: Strolling along the Rua João de Deus, we’re jolted by spine-rattling drumbeats coming from a side street. Down in front of Sorriso da Dadá, a thick crowd surrounds a local band called Swing do Pelô. Its young members, their braided hair tied high on their heads, are dancing in a circle as they bang out a delirious samba on snare drums, over a bass drum that sounds like Godzilla’s heartbeat.
Now the band and the crowd begin moving, and we reluctantly drop away, knowing we have bags to pack. But the drums, the African pulse of Salvador, will stay in our ears and make us feel, for a long time after, saudade da Bahia—longing for Bahia—which is, of course, the title of the loveliest, most haunting song by Dorival Caymmi.
The Details
Staying There
The top-rated hotels are on or near the beach, on the southern side of the city. The Sofitel Salvador resort (800-763-4835; sofitel.com; from $134) has the virtue of being near the airport and the beach of Itapoã, but the drawback of being a 45-minute drive from the Old City. At the Pestana Bahia (011-55-71-21-03-80-00; pestana.com; from $95), in Rio Vermelho, closer to the Old City and the best restaurants, all rooms have ocean views and the sound of the surf to lull you to sleep. For that elusive elegant small hotel in the historic center, you won’t have to wait long; in October, Pousadas de Portugal will open Pousada Convento do Carmo (pousadasofportugal.com), a charming 16th-century Carmelite monastery converted to a 78-room hotel.
Eating There
Both of the Paraíso Tropical restaurants—in Cabula (98-B Rua Edgar Loureiro; 71-33-84-74-64) and Rio Vermelho (354 Rua Feira de Santana; 71-33-35-05-57)—serve excellent, relatively light Bahian cuisine. Sorriso da Dadá (05 Rua Frei Vicente; 71-33-21-96-42) offers more traditional Bahian dishes and has offshoots near the shore in Federação and Patamares. Also good is the venerable Bargaço (43 Rua Antônio Silva Coelho; 32-31-51-41), with a lovely garden setting in Boca do Rio. Yemanjá (Boca do Rio; 71-34-61-90-10) is highly regarded for its moqueca de camarão (shrimp stew) and is only steps from the beach. Finally, Cantina da Lua (2 Praça 15 de Novembro; 71-32-41-52-45) is a good place to nurse a drink, listen to live music, and take in the view of the Terreiro de Jesus—just stay away from the food.
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