and if you split the words, it means ass face. seriously. anthony: ass face? leonardo paixao: it s actually exactly the words. anthony: so how was the how was your dinner tonight? were you were you busy? leonardo paixao: you know what happened tonight? it came like three clients. a lady with her husband and her chef. and she said, oh, this is my chef. he is going to eat and me and my husband are not because we re eating special food for detox. we re full of restrictions and we brought we brought our soup, so if you can please heat my soup for me because detoxing. anthony: detoxing from what? what are you, a heroin addict? i mean, go home and do some more heroin. thank you, guys. group: thank you, tony. anthony: to minas. there s always somewhere that cooks come from. usually it s the ass-end of a country. here it s different. it s not just where the cooks
[ cida speaking portuguese ] anthony: zora prides herself for preparing food in the tradition of the enslaved african women who were, in her view, the matriarchs of the minera cuisine. she cooks with a serious focus on vegetables and greens, ingredients from the yard, basically what her predecessors had to work with, and applies west african technique. this is angu a dish simply made of cornmeal and water or milk, cooked for hours. there s ora-pro-nóbis, a native green very rich in protein. it was known as the poor people s meat and its use dates back to colonial times when african cooks had to make do with very limited resources.
slow-cooked cows foot and/or other bits, tender and tasty and, believe me, one of my favorites, especially at this hour. we opt for the elite version with a raw quail egg because, well, need i remind you my confirmed record of egg sluttery? leonardo paixao: good stuff. anthony: wow. nice. this is like the greatest thing ever. leonardo paixao: so they tell that they serve 170 kilos of cow foot everyday. anthony: so that s about 350 pounds of, yeah, cow foot. and all that good stuff it ended up in here, man. gelatin, man. chef: the importations its its big. have a beer. it s never too busy. but it goes on 24 hours. anthony: it s sort of a stout. leonardo paixao: it s a cow breed caracu.
but i do it with risk, with risk because i do it for the people, not for the money. anthony: this place is massive, consisting of two dozen larger-than-life pavilions set on a 5,000-acre botanical garden. it holds over 500 works from contemporary artists. setting aside the cost of building this sprawling utopian vision and financing the art, it cost more than $10 million annually to keep the place running. and only a small portion of that is covered by tickets purchased by visitors. anthony: you could create a gallery space anywhere in the world, and those would be more accessible and more people would come. you chose here, relatively isolated. do you let uh, do you like people? bernardo: yes. i like people, but i like more
anthony: now wait a minute. is this based on the quality of the dishes or is this a philosophical decision to just hire other women? [ bruna speaking portuguese ] anthony: turkey neck braised with butter and garlic, served in white beans topped with kale and pork belly. marise rache: i think this is neck. leonardo paixao: yes, turkey neck. marise rache: turkey neck. anthony: turkey neck. cool. marise rache: with her grandmother s knife. [ laughs ] anthony: ah, with what s left of it. what it used to be like this?