Tag: jundiai

Oficina74 Loja Experimental

April 2, 2017

This week, we opened our pop up shop, Oficina74, in the heart of Jundiaí, São Paulo. An experimental space where we’ll serve pour over coffee, Moka, french press and aeropress. Along with our bread, our pastries, cakes, juices and salads.

Essa semana abrimos nossa pop up shop, Oficina74, bem no “coração” de Jundiaí. Um espaço experimental onde servimos coados, Moka, prensa francesa e aeropress. Sem deixar de lado nossos pães, pastries, bolos, sucos e saladas.

It’s something that took shape incredible quickly and came straight out of left field. We didn’t see it coming. Our incredibly gracious and generous friends, Leo and Daniela had built an annex to their Italian restaurant, Cortile Siciliano. There, they hold private parties and often do pasta making classes, but during the days, it remains closed.

Um projeto que tomou forma rapidamente e que veio sem esperarmos. Nossos incríveis e generosos amigos, Leo e Daniela tinham esse espaço anexo ao restaurante italiano deles, Cortile Siciliano. Um espaço que eles usam para eventos particulares e cursos de massa, mas durante o dia o local permanecia fechado.

They asked us if we’d want to do bread making courses there, to which, we said, absolutely! But over a course of a few beers and good food, the conversation flowed more to why not open oficina74 there? Our arms were twisted quite quickly!

Eles nos ofereceram o espaço para oficinas de pão, e claro que respondemos, com certeza! Mas depois de algumas cervejas e boa comida, a conversa fluiu mais para “porquê não abrir Oficina74 lá?” Abrimos nossos abraços na hora!

The space is beautiful, furnished wonderfully and you couldn’t ask for a better location. There are limits though, our kitchen remains here, on the farm, and all the baking and food prep will remain here in our ovens. Then we open up shop there for later in the morning with our produce and coffee. The days will be long, but the opportunity unmissable.

O lugar é lindo, maravilhosamente mobiliado e não poderíamos pedir por uma melhor localização. Temos limitações, claro. Nossa cozinha continuará no sítio e todas as fornadas e preparações serão feitas em casa. Por esse motivos abriremos a loja um pouco mais tarde servindo nossos produtos e café. Jornada longa, mas uma oportunidade imperdível.

It’s a 3 month pop up shop trial, if things go well, there’s a chance of renting the space and making it a more permanent base of oficina74. I guess we’ll know more in 3 months!

Serão 3 meses testando o processo, e se tudo der certo (esperamos que sim), a chance de nos fixarmos no local e fazer do lugar casa permanente da Oficina74. Saberemos mais com o passar do tempo!

For now, we’re going to enjoy the challenge, the meeting of new people, and having the stage to tell our story and deliver the message of slow food, sustainable practices and buying local.

Por ora, estamos curtindo o desafio, conhecendo novas pessoas e aproveitando a oportunidade para contar nossa história e espalhar a mensagem slow food, práticas sustentáveis e valorização do comércio local.

We are incredibly grateful.

Nos sentimos extremamente gratos.

One love from us and if you’re in or nearby Jundiaí, drop in and share a moment with us!

Muito amor para todos e se você estiver pelas redondezas de Jundiaí, passe por lá para compartilharmos café e ideias!

A beleza nas coisas mais imperfeitas // The beauty in the Imperfections

November 24, 2016

by oficina74

comments 4

Quando contamos nossa história e falamos sobre nosso estilo de vida ouvimos 2 tipos de comentários:

When we told our story to family and friends about our proposed lifestyle change here on the farm, we were met with 2 types of responses:

Os românticos- que coisa mais maravilhosa largar tudo e morar no campo. Um dia vou ter coragem de fazer isso também.
Os realistas- vocês são loucos e irresponsáveis. Como vão viver assim? Jamais faria isso.

The romantics, what a wonderful thing, leave all the nonsense behind to live on a farm. One day I’d love to so the same.
The realists – You’re mad and irresponsible, how will you survive like this? Mostly, we’ve heard from the realists more.

A verdade é que nenhuma das duas visões se aplicam no nosso cotidiano.

The truth is, neither of these opinions apply to our daily life here.

Passamos perrengues, temos um zilhão de dúvidas e questionamentos.

We pass through difficult times in life, it’s normal, and we’re left with a zillion doubts and questions.

Tem semana que o telefone não toca. Não vendemos um pão. Chove muito a estrada fica enterditada, a varanda cheia de lama, o bolo não cresce, e nossas reservas se esgotando.

There are weeks when the phone doesn’t ring, we don’t sell one bread. It rains, and rains and rains and the road ruts and becomes impassable, the veranda is full of mud, the cakes don’t rise and our savings are dwindling.

Ás vezes é um caos que só. Dan fica super irritado e eu choro.

Sometimes, it’s pure chaos. Dan gets stressed, I cry, it’s horrible.

Então nos lembramos que viver essa experiência foi escolha nossa. E toda escolha tem renúncia. Quão fortunado somos nós que temos direito de escolha? Muiiiito.

Then we remember that this life experience was our choice and every choice has sacrifices. But we can’t forget that we were lucky enough to be able to have this choice in the first place. Very lucky.

Como faz pra se recompor, centrar e fazer com que as coisas fiquem bem?

How do we do to make sure we stay composed, centered and make sure we focus on keeping things going?

O Dan pedala, faz jardinagem, faz pão… Eu faço um bolo, medito (tento), ajudo no jardim e costuro. E juntos cozinhamos.

Dan rides, he works in the garden, he makes bread… I make a cake, meditate, help in the garden and work on my machine, making home wares and dresses, and we cook together.

Aos poucos vamos achando o nosso jeitinho de conectar-se com nós mesmos e com o mundo. O alimento tem um poder incrível de conexão. Talvez porque cozinhar faz com que você esteja presente. Vivendo o momento.

Slowly, we’ll find a way to connect better with ourselves and our public. Food is an incredible tool to bring people together, and when you cook, or prepare food, you’re present and in the moment.

E tudo passa. O dia nasce ensolarado, o telefone toca, desbloqueiam a estrada, os amigos nos visitam, tem flor, fruta e comida. É uma alegria que só.

The bad moments pass, they always do. The next day the sun rises, it’s sunny, the phone rings and the road becomes passable, friends visit, the garden is full of flowers, there are fruits on the trees, we have a roof over our head and there is food on the table.

Morando na roça temos aprendido muito sobre horta, orgânicos, alimentação, café, fermentação e tantos outros assuntos que nem imaginávamos um dia saber, mas temos mesmo é aprendido muito sobre nós mesmos.

Living on the farm we have learned so much about the garden, the land, organics, food, coffee, fermentation and so many day to day things its hard to list, but what we have learned more is about ourselves, learning from our mistakes and coming out the other side.

Aprendendo a ver beleza nos dias cinzas e nas nossas próprias imperfeições.

We are learning to see the beauty on our grey days and in our imperfections.

Sourdough / Pain au Levain

February 16, 2016

by oficina74

comments 2

I had never experienced Sourdough bread until I moved to New York City in 2009. I remember it clearly, my first few months there, I was on the tourism trail, ticking off as many of the highlights as I could. At that point, I just had been assigned to a project for just one year, so I had to do the things that others tell us we must do.

One of them was, of course, Katz Diner in the Lower East Side. Famously, Sally, from When Harry met Sally, climaxed at the table over a pastrami on rye sandwich. Since then, the Diner has been selling sandwiches by the bucket load, but coming up short on the climaxes.

But damn, it was a good sandwich, and the bread struck a chord with me. I would buy sourdough bread from a small Jewish bakery on the Upper West Side, later on from the bakery just off of Bedford Ave in Williamsburg. It was cheap, delicious and it’d see me the week.

When I couldn’t get the bread fresh, I discovered Bread Alone, a small outfit of Artesenal bakers in upstate New York. They’d bake fresh bread and deliver it to some of the Cities stores and Supermarkets daily. I tried all of their style, but always found myself going back to the Sourdough. The tang, the chewy crust, the aerated pockets all the way through the loaf. I never really thought much about the process, however. I was ignorant to the skill and time that goes into baking these breads.

When I left NYC to move to São Paulo, I discovered these amazing bakeries, that sold everything. You could get the normal things you’d expect from a bakery, plus your beers, groceries and even dinner.

Unfortunately, I don’t think Brazilians take their bread very seriously. I found myself just buying the same crappy bread again and again, Pão Frances. It’s a small baguette style roll, made with commercial yeast, cheap flour and baked by the thousand, all over Brazil every day. It’s cheap, it’s sort of tasty but it lacks in everything else. The bread is salty and light, it doesn’t satisfy much of anything at all, but just leaves you wanting more, and that’s not necessarily a good thing.

Once Tati and I moved to the farm, 18 months ago, we found ourselves without the luxury of a bakery, or market, or anything in fact, close by. Everything required getting in the car and driving some KM’s to stock up. We started growing things and eating what was on the trees here, and we started shopping once a week and planning ahead a lot more.

We also started to bake our own bread. Firstly, basic recipes with commercial yeast, then we moved onto wholegrain breads, but still using commercially manufactured yeast. It wasn’t until I sat down with a small book and read about sourdough, the natural levain, and the processes one needs to go through to make their own. It seemed confusing at first, like catering for a tamagotchi of yesteryear, but I slowly found a rhythm and after a couple of attempts and a couple of weeks, I had a vibrant, tangy smelly, active starter.

To begin with, I baked a fail safe sourdough recipe, that also called for a pinch of commercial yeast, to kick start things right away, but as I started to get regularly decent results with that, I took the plunge in using just my yeast, water and flour, to make our own bread.

There were disasters, there were paper weights, solid bricks of baked flour, there were swear words, there were cut fingers and there was confusion. A lot of confusion.

It’s a living thing, this yeast, it gets pissed off if its too hot, too cold, not fed enough, (although, it’s quite happy to be over fed) and the dough will overproof if left too long during bulk ferment or the final proofing. It can seem erratic, but once you start doing it more often, there are patterns and you begin to understand this things behavior, and its beautifully simple really. Unlike a tamagotchi. The fuckers.

Now I have 4 recipes, a plain white sourdough, a rye sourdough, a multigrain sourdough, and a wholewheat sourdough. It doesn’t tick all the boxes, but it gets close. I want to eventually play with dried fruits, nuts, olives and things like that. I want to make a special batch of fig bread, with the figs from our trees here, but that’s one for next fig season though!

There are many journaled reasons as to why Sourdough is a better health choice to make when choosing bread. For me, it is easier on the gut, and it tastes fantastic, plus I enjoy the process. But, there are many reasons why even those with an intolerance to gluten, can enjoy bread. The long fermentation process (totalling 12 hours for my batches, but others ferment up to 36) breaks down a lot of the slightly less gut-friendly starches in the bread. This gives the bread a lower glycemic index, meaning we see a slower release of the foods contained energy and reduces the risk of blood sugar spikes. The long fermentation process also breaks down the complex gluten structures in the bread, turning them, instead, into amino acids that our bodies are more receptive too, and also, far easier to digest. Additionally, this long fermentation creates an increase in the lactic acid, thus maintaining a pH that is neither too acidic nor alkaline for the body.

All in all, it’s just something that our bodies can process a lot easier than commercially created bread, explicitly due to the long fermentation process. Not to mention it tastes good, and can last up to a week. The acetic acid which is produced along with lactic acid helps to preserve the bread, inhibiting mold growth.

For us, it’s good for sandwiches for up to 3 days, toast up to 5 days and after that it makes banging french toast, or bread crumbs for other recipes. Nothing is wasted.