
Chef Juliana
Bauru Clássico (Ponto Chic)
You don't need a lanchonete password. Hollow the pão francês, soften four cheeses in hot water, tuck in real rosbife, tomato, and picles, and São Paulo dinner lands in your hand.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
You don't need a snack-counter mystery. Cook the beef until it shreds, bind it with a real sauce, bread it calmly, and croquete becomes Tuesday food with party manners.
You look at a tray of croquetes and hear that little voice: isso não é pra mim. Too neat, too golden, too much like something made by a person with a secret. Anota aí: the secret is not a secret. Cozinhar não é dom, é um aprendizado, and croquete is only meat, refogado, sauce, shape, crumb, oil.
This is the salgado that makes sense in a Brazilian kitchen because it comes from the same logic as the pê-efe. You cook real beef with onion, garlic, tomato, and bay, the kind of meat that could sit beside arroz soltinho, feijão, and couve. Then a gente turns what is left into something you can eat at a birthday, in front of a game, or straight from the plate before anyone notices.
The method matters because croquete punishes shortcuts that pretend to be food. The beef needs time so it shreds instead of fighting your fork. The refogado needs to murchar until sweet because onion and garlic are the floor of the house. The white-sauce paste needs to cook until it pulls from the pan, or the croquete bursts and makes you blame yourself. Don't. We are going to teach the mixture to hold together.
By the end you will have cylinders with a crisp, golden crumb and a soft beef center that tastes like comida de verdade. No powder. No packet. Just a recipe that works.
Croquete in Brazil belongs to the salgado counter tradition, shaped by Portuguese and broader European frying techniques and adapted to everyday Brazilian leftovers and butcher-shop scraps. In São Paulo bakeries, bars, and birthday tables, beef croquettes became a practical way to stretch cooked meat into a snack that could be breaded, fried, sold by the unit, or frozen for later. The Brazilian version is usually softer inside than the Dutch kroket, with a meat paste or shredded filling bound enough to shape by hand.
Quantity
1 1/2 pounds
cut into 2-inch pieces
Quantity
1 1/2 teaspoons, divided
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons
for browning the beef
Quantity
1 medium
finely chopped
Quantity
3 cloves
minced
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 small
chopped
Quantity
1
Quantity
2 cups, plus more as needed
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1/2 cup
for the filling
Quantity
1 cup
Quantity
2 tablespoons
chopped
Quantity
1 tablespoon
chopped
Quantity
1/4 teaspoon
Quantity
2 large
Quantity
2 tablespoons
for the egg wash
Quantity
1 cup
for breading
Quantity
2 cups
Quantity
4 cups
for frying
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| beef chuckcut into 2-inch pieces | 1 1/2 pounds |
| salt | 1 1/2 teaspoons, divided |
| black pepper | 1/2 teaspoon |
| oilfor browning the beef | 2 tablespoons |
| onionfinely chopped | 1 medium |
| garlicminced | 3 cloves |
| tomato paste | 2 tablespoons |
| tomatochopped | 1 small |
| bay leaf | 1 |
| water | 2 cups, plus more as needed |
| butter | 2 tablespoons |
| all-purpose flourfor the filling | 1/2 cup |
| whole milk | 1 cup |
| parsleychopped | 2 tablespoons |
| scallions (optional)chopped | 1 tablespoon |
| ground nutmeg (optional) | 1/4 teaspoon |
| eggs | 2 large |
| waterfor the egg wash | 2 tablespoons |
| all-purpose flourfor breading | 1 cup |
| fine dry breadcrumbs | 2 cups |
| oilfor frying | 4 cups |
Season the beef with 1 teaspoon salt and the black pepper. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a heavy pot over medium-high heat and brown the meat in two batches, turning until the edges are deep brown, about 3 minutes per side. Don't crowd the pot. Too much meat at once drops the heat, the beef releases water, and you get grey meat boiling in its own juice instead of flavor stuck to the bottom.
Lower the heat to medium. Add the onion to the same pot and cook, stirring and scraping the browned bits, until it goes soft and see-through, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic for 1 minute, just until you smell it, then stir in the tomato paste and cook until it darkens a shade. This is the refogado doing its work: sweet onion, quick garlic, tomato cooked out of its raw taste.
Return the beef to the pot with the chopped tomato, bay leaf, and 2 cups water. Bring to a boil, then lower to a gentle simmer, cover, and cook until the meat pulls apart with two forks, about 1 hour 15 minutes to 1 hour 30 minutes. If the pot looks dry, add water 1/4 cup at a time. Tender is not a number on the clock, it's the fork sliding through without a fight.
Move the beef to a plate and shred it finely with two forks. Discard the bay leaf. Boil the liquid left in the pot until it reduces to about 1/2 cup and looks glossy, not watery. That little bit of concentrated sauce carries the meat flavor into the paste instead of leaving it behind in the pot.
In the same pot over medium heat, melt the butter into the reduced sauce. Stir in 1/2 cup flour and cook for 2 minutes, stirring constantly, until it smells nutty and looks like a thick paste. Pour in the milk little by little, stirring hard after each addition, until smooth. Cooking the flour first keeps the filling from tasting raw, and adding the milk slowly keeps lumps from setting up camp.
Add the shredded beef, parsley, scallions if using, nutmeg if using, and the remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt. Cook, stirring, until the mixture pulls away from the bottom and sides of the pot in one heavy mass, about 4 to 6 minutes. This is the ponto. Too loose and the croquete opens in the oil. Firm enough to leave the pan clean for a second, and it will shape.
Spread the filling on a plate or small tray, cover, and chill until firm, at least 30 minutes. With lightly oiled hands, shape about 2 tablespoons of filling into each short cylinder, roughly 3 inches long. Chilling is not fuss. Warm filling sticks, slumps, and makes you say words your grandmother didn't teach you.
Set up three shallow bowls: 1 cup flour, eggs beaten with 2 tablespoons water, and breadcrumbs. Roll each cylinder in flour, tap off the extra, dip in egg, then coat in breadcrumbs, pressing gently so the crumb sticks. The flour dries the surface, the egg glues, and the crumb protects the filling in the oil. Skip one layer and the croquete knows.
Heat 4 cups oil in a heavy pot to 175°C (350°F), or until a breadcrumb dropped in sizzles right away and rises with steady bubbles. Fry 5 or 6 croquetes at a time until evenly golden, 2 to 3 minutes, turning once. Don't pack the pot. Crowding cools the oil, the crust drinks grease, and dinner becomes heavy for no good reason.
Lift the croquetes out with a slotted spoon and drain on a rack or paper towels. Sprinkle with a small pinch of salt while hot and serve with lime wedges if you like. Let them sit 3 minutes before biting, because the outside calms down before the center does. Ask me how I learned. Actually, don't.
1 serving (about 65g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Juliana
You don't need a lanchonete password. Hollow the pão francês, soften four cheeses in hot water, tuck in real rosbife, tomato, and picles, and São Paulo dinner lands in your hand.

Chef Juliana
You think fried salgados belong to the birthday table you buy, not the one you make. Wrong. Learn the dough, seal the cheese, and the freezer starts working for you.

Chef Juliana
You think choux is too fancy for your kitchen. Good. We'll take that fear apart with a pan, a spoon, and a recipe that tells you exactly what to watch for.

Chef Juliana
You think this is just a hot dog. It's not. It's the birthday table, the game-day tray, and a very São Paulo lesson in sauce, crunch, and no fear.