Moqueca at Muqueca

There’s always something satisfying about making a long trek in the cold New England evening to a hole-in-the-wall spot with a legendary specialty. I’m talking about Rino’s, its location all the way out in East Boston, and its famed plate of perfect gnocchi. I’m also talking about Muqueca, a small but bustling Brazilian joint out in Inman Square [college kids: who really knows how to get there via bus?], and the scrumptious seafood stew after which it is named. Except that the restaurant name and the menu item are spelt differently, post-translation.

Moqueca [the food-item] refers to the classic serving of fish, shrimp, and/or mussels along with tomatoes, onions and broth-stew, slow-cooked in traditional black clay pots. In this instance, the experience was both delectable and culturally immersive, as not only was the stew served in the still-steaming clay pot, but the cozily intimate walls were also livened by a series of photographs depicting the construction of such pots. Homey decor and homey presentation made way for the homey taste of body- and soul-warming food, spearheaded by a strong backdrop of sea-seasoned mussels.

And the grandiose flavoring really did make everything else step aside as each ladle-full of stew, stewbits, rice, and the complementary fish sauce delighted and satisfied. When the savory side became slightly overwhelming, my pineapple mint smoothie was a nice coolant, but could only manage to stave off the next mouthful of seafood for so long. Until I was absolutely stuffed, of course; given my normal appetite and gastro-elasticity, filling me all the way up was no small feat for the meal!

I think Tina ordered the feijoada completa, a combination of another clay pot of beef and sausages and black beans with a plate of rice, collard greens, plaintains, and a small molded ball of farofa, or yucca powder, and a small slice of orange, which she had alongside an intense smoothie of blueberries, mango, and passion fruit. I think. It was a bit tough to focus on such a variety of culinary features, but suffice it to say that she didn’t finish, and we ended up packing up the beans and meat. Of course, the real reason for deferring the main course was so that we could move on to…

… dessert! We had already spotted a display, wisely guarded by a clear glass cover, of small ball-ish treats in black and white, and resolved to conquer the glass separation before we left the restaurant. They turned out to be entries on the dessert menu, entitled ‘Truffle’ and ‘A little kiss,’ colored respectively. We ended up with one of each, plus a steak knife for hemisphering. Speaking honestly: What an experience. If the entrées were remarkably savory, the desserts were mind-blowingly and finger-lickingly sweet and rich. While the truffle was exactly that — a chocolate ball made with thick truffle filling — the white kiss was sprinkled with coconut shavings that left a macaroon-type impression. Perhaps the coconut ball with its more complex filling [vanilla sugar?] would have been more interesting objectively, but the preceding truffle had already saturated our tongues with sweetness so it was difficult to decide.

Postscript: the service at Muqueca for the night was pretty considerate and accommodating. Upon arrival, we were shuttled to the one available two-seater fairly quickly. The waitress was helpful in explaining pronunciation and explicating ingredients, and when she didn’t know the traditional way of eating farofa, she returned with the resident culture-pedia waitress in tow. Most telling in my eyes, however, was the fact that we were allowed to lounge around for quite a long time after finishing dessert; even with no line out the door at the time, many other establishments would probably have delivered the check as readily as the food. This was just another subtle layer of hospitality that the little unassuming Brazilian oasis bestowed upon us.

In other words, would visit again.