Sunday, 11 September 2011
Carioca da Gema!
Now here's an interesting phrase - and one whose definition seems to be a little hard to pin down, so my apologies in advance for pissing off any people who actually know precisely what a Carioca da Gema actually is.
Firstly, and most simply, its the yolk of an egg - that much is certain. Secondly, its a 'true' Carioca. Now I'm not really sufficiently in the know to be able to say what a 'true' Carioca is, but its safe to say that if you weren't born here, along with a couple of previous generations of your family, then you might consider yourself 'Carioca' but you are most certainly not an egg yolk.
Reminds me of the sound of Bow Bells, which incidentally I was born nowhere near. I'm about as Cockney as Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.
'Carioca da Gema' is also a wonderful Samba bar in Lapa - we went there last night and drank beer and danced and danced. It really is up there with the very best clubs, and the musicians were effortlessly entertaining - I've honestly not seen better. Pretty sure they must have been born within the sound of some raucous samba clatter.
Now incase I've failed to mention it, one of my more serious interests is getting the beer down me. This place made it easier that ever. The waiters were weaving their way around the dance floor with ice buckets full of beer bottles. You just help yourself and let them mark your card. Whatever you do don't lose the card. The humoungus bloke on the door gently explained why. -- 'If you lose that you're gonna have to pay a lot of money to get out' - understood.
Get yourself down there.