Last week, I went for a walk around my neighborhood, and I was saddened by the number of restaurants that closed their doors forever, not only after the pandemic.

A traditional, very old restaurant , with natural food at a good price that had been here for decades. As they worked in a buffet system, it was difficult to remain even after it´s over the lockdown.

I would like to pay tribute here to the restaurants, in general, in any form.

For me, it is much more than a place where you are fed and served.

The restaurant offers us a place where you have experiences, both gastronomic and cultural. And some, maybe, a personal one.

Of course, let’s not talk about that ordinary buffet pay as you eat  that you weigh your plate and leave in 10 minutes. But it could even be.

I’m talking about those restaurants that, regardless of price, have a soul. They promote rituals, memories, discoveries, family ties.

I love eating. And I love to eat well. When I say that eating well, it does not live up to value and race. For me, food brings human beings together.

When someone cook for others, even if it´s paid, it´s a kind of deliverance, affection.

I have already spoken in other chronicles of the film “Babette’s Party”, which even won the Foreign Film Oscar in 1987. A good meal does the impossible. A good meal is a universal affection.

Here in São Paulo we have the privilege to connect with other countries without ever having visited them. I went a short time before the pandemic in a wonderful African restaurant, whose refugee owner, spoke little Portuguese but served food with spices thati had never tasted in my life. And tasted good, dears. I also went to a Mexican restaurant once a week, whose owner, an authentic Mexican and friendly lady from Acapulco, told us how to distinguish Mexican roots from Mexican Fake  food.

And there are restaurants that always remind us of affective memories. There’s a Lamem Tiny place in hispter neighborhood Vila Madalena where I had the first meetings of my last crushes and boyfriends. There is the restaurant of a Korean friend who, in addition to the wonderful food, has a cozy sofa that is always available for our inseparable group of friends.

There’s that Italian restaurant that closed in Brooklin but I went on time every Saturday with my family from 10 to 20 years old … until it closed … I don’t forget the waiters, the owners, the dishes and how my father always ordered the same spaguetti amatriciana …

There is a restaurant that is just to show off, and why not? Fasano is for those who have won big in life. I went only once, to celebrate a great deal that we closed.

And there is Vaz Gomes, an old-fashioned restaurant, almost a bar, which serves the best PF and the best vinaigrette in Brazil, in Diadema, where I went with my family before going to spend the weekend in Guarujá and where I held numerous meetings on the side where you worked.

Sometimes the type of restaurant you choose reflects a life-changing, maturing ritual. At 20 I really liked SPOT at Paulista because I was going to see the university handsome waiters and dishes that were not millionaires at the time. But I went to the lady of the hot dog booth next to the clubs, and they were good.  I never had a stomach problem with the wonderful rescuing hot dogs at late night – or early mornings).

At 30, I was terrified of MacDonalds (I ate, but hidden and in shame) and considered myself the super adult only going to restaurants of origin and differences, with all the fucking “local producers and organic ingredients”.

And at 40 I embraced everyone: from differences to MacDonalds (but only twice a month) because yes, I like everything. And that´s the beauty of the forties: embrace what you want and no regrets.

I think the world is missing to go back to a restaurant table and have their experiences.

In France, in Lyon, bouchons (family and casual restaurants) are an institution of the city, and Biergartens in Austria and Germany are much more than just a place to fill your belly with (good) beer. I remember in 2008 that I was on my first international trip alone, and in Berlin, having the first symptoms of loneliness, I put myself in a Biergarten that was just  pure joy and even the berlinest person came with a huge and drunk smile in their faces.

I met many best friends at a restaurant table. I made and ended many loves too. Family lunches are always memorable, even in a chain restaurant like the Outback that my father and my nephews love (and my mother hate).

I look forward to a safe return to normality. May the restaurants survive this stormy timeand welcome us back with open doors and hearts.

A traditional, very old restaurant , with natural food at a good price that had been here for decades. As they worked in a buffet system, it was difficult to remain even after it´s over the lockdown.

I would like to pay tribute here to the restaurants, in general, in any form.

For me, it is much more than a place where you are fed and served.

The restaurant offers us a place where you have experiences, both gastronomic and cultural. And some, maybe, a personal one.

Of course, let’s not talk about that ordinary buffet pay as you eat  that you weigh your plate and leave in 10 minutes. But it could even be.

I’m talking about those restaurants that, regardless of price, have a soul. They promote rituals, memories, discoveries, family ties.

I love eating. And I love to eat well. When I say that eating well, it does not live up to value and race. For me, food brings human beings together.

When someone cook for others, even if it´s paid, it´s a kind of deliverance, affection.

I have already spoken in other chronicles of the film “Babette’s Party”, which even won the Foreign Film Oscar in 1987. A good meal does the impossible. A good meal is a universal affection.

Here in São Paulo we have the privilege to connect with other countries without ever having visited them. I went a short time before the pandemic in a wonderful African restaurant, whose refugee owner, spoke little Portuguese but served food with spices thati had never tasted in my life. And tasted good, dears. I also went to a Mexican restaurant once a week, whose owner, an authentic Mexican and friendly lady from Acapulco, told us how to distinguish Mexican roots from Mexican Fake  food.

And there are restaurants that always remind us of affective memories. There’s a Lamem Tiny place in hispter neighborhood Vila Madalena where I had the first meetings of my last crushes and boyfriends. There is the restaurant of a Korean friend who, in addition to the wonderful food, has a cozy sofa that is always available for our inseparable group of friends.

There’s that Italian restaurant that closed in Brooklin but I went on time every Saturday with my family from 10 to 20 years old … until it closed … I don’t forget the waiters, the owners, the dishes and how my father always ordered the same spaguetti amatriciana …

There is a restaurant that is just to show off, and why not? Fasano is for those who have won big in life. I went only once, to celebrate a great deal that we closed.

And there is Vaz Gomes, an old-fashioned restaurant, almost a bar, which serves the best PF and the best vinaigrette in Brazil, in Diadema, where I went with my family before going to spend the weekend in Guarujá and where I held numerous meetings on the side where you worked.

Sometimes the type of restaurant you choose reflects a life-changing, maturing ritual. At 20 I really liked SPOT at Paulista because I was going to see the university handsome waiters and dishes that were not millionaires at the time. But I went to the lady of the hot dog booth next to the clubs, and they were good.  I never had a stomach problem with the wonderful rescuing hot dogs at late night – or early mornings).

At 30, I was terrified of MacDonalds (I ate, but hidden and in shame) and considered myself the super adult only going to restaurants of origin and differences, with all the fucking “local producers and organic ingredients”.

And at 40 I embraced everyone: from differences to MacDonalds (but only twice a month) because yes, I like everything. And that´s the beauty of the forties: embrace what you want and no regrets.

I think the world is missing to go back to a restaurant table and have their experiences.

In France, in Lyon, bouchons (family and casual restaurants) are an institution of the city, and Biergartens in Austria and Germany are much more than just a place to fill your belly with (good) beer. I remember in 2008 that I was on my first international trip alone, and in Berlin, having the first symptoms of loneliness, I put myself in a Biergarten that was just  pure joy and even the berlinest person came with a huge and drunk smile in their faces.

I met many best friends at a restaurant table. I made and ended many loves too. Family lunches are always memorable, even in a chain restaurant like the Outback that my father and my nephews love (and my mother hate).

I look forward to a safe return to normality. May the restaurants survive this stormy timeand welcome us back with open doors and hearts.