A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by Chef Juliana
You think cutting orange this way is fussy. It isn't. It's one knife, one bowl, and the reason feijoada tastes like home instead of just heavy.
You look at a peeled orange cut into neat gomos and hear that little voice: isso não é pra mim. Too careful, too restaurant, too much trouble for a fruit that's going beside beans. Anota aí: this is not decoration. This is the single sharp, sweet thing that helps the whole feijoada plate make sense.
The pê-efe teaches this better than any lecture: rice, beans, something from the pan, something green, and then, on feijoada day, orange. The orange cuts through the fat, wakes up the beans, and gives your mouth a clean place to land. That's not mystique. That's a plate doing its job.
The method is plain. Cut away the peel and white pith because the pith is bitter. Slice between the membranes because the membranes are chewy. Catch the juice because throwing it away would be silly, and I may have done sillier things in my early kitchen life, but not that one anymore.
By the end, you'll have naked little gomos, glossy and bright, ready to sit beside feijão, farofa, couve, and rice. Cozinhar não é dom, é um aprendizado. Even when the lesson is an orange.
Quantity
4 medium
firm, heavy, and juicy
Quantity
1 small pinch
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| sweet orangesfirm, heavy, and juicy | 4 medium |
| fine salt (optional) | 1 small pinch |
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