Pampa Brazilian Steakhouse's Chef Joao Dachery on Prairie-inspired barbecue

Joao Dachery has only been cooking for a little more than a decade but spent a lifetime eating some of the world's best barbecue.

Born and raised in the Pampas — the Prairie region of Brazil where it spills over into Uruguay and Argentina — Dachery had an Italian mother whose family lived to cook.

"I learned a lot of things from her, but didn't become a chef until I was older," he said in the dining room of his downtown restaurant Pampa Brazilian Steakhouse. "It never crossed my mind. There are some things that happen in your life that you never imagine."

Dachery was a business administrator, and didn't dream of becoming a chef until the opportunity to open a restaurant in Canada presented itself.

"As a business owner, you like to understand things," he said of his decision to learn his way around the kitchen.

He went to culinary school from 2003 to 2004 in the hills of Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil, and then attended another school devoted specifically to barbecue before moving to Edmonton in 2008 to open the first Pampa location with his business partner, Oscar Lopez.

They opened the second location in Calgary earlier this year.

Barbecue on the Pampa

Pampa is the Portuguese word for Prairie. Looking through a small collection of photography books Dachery brought from his home in South America, the images of cowboys, rolling Prairie and cattle ranches could have been shot in rural Alberta.

"It's in the Prairies where barbecue was born," he told me over a dish of steaming fejoada, a black bean and pork stew — which Dachery says is essentially the national dish of Brazil, with as many versions as there are people cooking it.

"At the time it was just a hole in the ground. They'd skewer the meat with metal skewers and wooden stakes."

It's this tradition that inspired a unique style of dining, which originated in the 1950s and is referred to as rodizio, a Brazilian-style steakhouse. It focuses on an array of all-you-can-eat grilled meats, accompanied by a supporting cast of salads and sides.

(The trick is to not fill up on the salad bar before the parade of meats start, signalled by a green disc each diner has at the table. Flip it over to red when you need a break.)

"We have very good beef in the south, in the Prairies," Dachery said of the Brazilian beef he grew up eating. "But your meat is more tender. Your cows don't do so much in the cold. There are no winters back home, not like this — so the meat is a little more tough. Here the meat is very soft; it's perfect for barbecue."

Meat and more meat

Meat is only grilled over well-established mesquite coals at Pampa. There are 11 different meats, including several cuts of beef, pork, chicken and lamb (some days they do 12-hour ribs, wrapped in packages that simulate individual pressure cookers).

There's a smaller menu at lunch, but the salads and sides bar is no less enormous. All the meats are marinated except for the beef, which is simply seasoned from a huge bucket of coarse salt stashed away close to the grill — an homage to the gaúchos back home.

Out on the range, South American gaúchos — cowboys of the South American Pampas — live primarily on meat, cooking simply seasoned cuts over an open flame.  

Centuries ago, when salt was a rarity, gaúchos would put thickly cut steak on a horse's back and secure it underneath the saddle before heading out to ride for the day. The animal's salty sweat would season the meat, while the repeated bouncing on the saddle tenderized it before dinnertime.

Beyond the nose-to-tail practice of using every bit of an animal, Dachery likes to use everything in the kitchen — a habit he developed back home.

No waste

"Brazil is a poor country," he said. "So we have lots of people giving classes on how to use the resources you have. Say let's learn how to make a cake out of the skin of a banana, or let's use the skin from the potatoes — things that would otherwise get thrown out."

To that end, at Pampa they simmer and steep the pineapple rinds and cores from the kitchen into a delicious spiced drink to serve over ice. Spiked with cinnamon, ginger, cloves, star anise, chai tea and a pinch of chiles, it's perfect for the holidays.

If you're looking for an interesting alternative to the usual apple cider, it turns out it's delicious served warm.

Spiced Pineapple Chicha de Piña

Chef Joao Dachery uses the pineapple skins and cores to make this drink, but you could probably streamline the process by using a container of pineapple juice. This is my own version. I came up with it after tasting and hearing his description of how they simmer and steep theirs overnight at the restaurant.

• Skins and core of 1-2 pineapples
• 1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
• 2 cinnamon sticks
• 2 slices fresh ginger
• 2 whole star anise
• A few whole cloves
• Pinch red chilli flakes (optional)
• 1 chai tea bag (optional)
• 1 lime, sliced or cut into wedges

Combine everything but the tea bag and lime in a large pot along with about two litres water. Bring to a simmer and cook for hours, until it tastes like deliciously spiced pineapple juice. Add the tea bag and simmer for another 10 minutes, then strain, add the lime (squeeze in the wedges, if you like) and serve warm, or cool, chill and serve over ice.