Why does the Netherlands not know about Brazilian food - yet!
I have been living in the Netherlands for almost one decade and operating food businesses for nearly 6 years. Still, two interactions I had last week made me reflect once again on how limited the understanding of Brazilian food culture remains.
In the Netherlands, people are broadly familiar with Italian, Indonesian, Surinamise, Chinese, Indian and Thai cuisine. Yet, Brazil – the largest country in Latin America, with more than 215 million inhabitants – rarely appears in this culinary landscape. For many, Brazilian food remains vague, undefined, or reduced to stereotypes.
After being asked repeatedly what Brazilian cuisine actually is – whether “if it is like… mostly meat?” I decided to write this article. Not a complaint, but as an exploration of why Brazilian food is largely unknown in the Netherlands, and why this absence is rooted in History rather than in coincidence.
Brazilian food is not just one thing.
Referring to “Brazilian food” is like referring to “European food”. Brazil has a wide range of internal cultures, climates, and food systems, making its cuisine impossible to be reduced to one only entity. This diversity is already complex within Brazil itself; outside the country it is even more difficult to get translated.
Brazilian cuisine is strongly regional and shaped by geography. What people eat – and how they cook – depends on the local biome, access to ingredients and climate. Another major influence is the form of colonization each region experiences, which resulted in different cooking techniques, ingredients, and traditions. Amazonian, Northeastern, Southern, Indigenous, African, Portuguese and other European cuisines, Arabic, Persian, Asian, Caribbean influences coexist within Brazilian food culture.
A chat with a Dutch Chef
One of the interactions I mentioned previously, and that resulted in this reflection, came from an experienced Dutch chef who asked whether the dish I was preparing was Portuguese after I explained it was a feijoada, a bean-based stew. I did not feel that it was an ill-intended question, but it shows a broader issue: Brazilian cuisine is often perceived in Europe, as an extension of Portuguese food, rather than as a culinary tradition with its own layers, history, products and techniques.
Feijoada itself makes a good example. Its origins are connected to African and Persian/Arabic food traditions that, through war, trade, and colonization, were adapted by the Portuguese and later transformed in Brazil. Over time, the dish built a particular cultural meaning as a symbol of resistance among enslaved African communities.
Today, feijoada is internationally recognized as Brazil’s national dish, because it reflects diversity. It exists in many regional and household variations and exists not only as food, but also as a social ritual: a gathering, a party, a way of bringing people together.
Colonial History and Food visibility
Colonial history plays a big role determining which cuisines become visible in the Netherlands. Brazil was once a Portuguese colony, not a Dutch one. In Dutch society food culture seems closely linked to their own colonial and migration history, specially to Indonesian, Surinamese cuisines, which entered daily-life through long-standing social and family connections.
Because there was no comparable large post-colonial migration wave from Brazil, Brazilian food did not find these structural pathways into Dutch households.
Food travels through power, trade, and history – not just taste.
Diaspora, labour and visibility
Contemporary Brazilian migration to the Netherlands is relatively recent and fragmented. According to 2023 estimates, there are around 80.000 Brazilians living in the Netherlands, which makes it one of the biggest destinations for the Brazilian diaspora in Europe. Yet, if community is not visible, food rarely is.
Many of the Brazilians living in the Netherlands work in care, cleaning, construction, hospitality back-of-house, therefore most of the cooking remains private and out of the public landscape of food.
Stereotypes and everyday Brazilian food
The invisibility of the community contributes to simplified assumptions about Brazilian food. It is frequently linked with constant barbecues, meat-heavy meals, and excess. While barbecue is indeed part of Brazilian culture, it does not represent everyday eating.
Daily Brazilian meals are typically balanced and structured. A common plate consists of rice, beans, vegetables and a modest portion of protein, complemented by seasonal fruits. The meals are regular, nourishing, and based on repetition and care rather than indulgence.
In practice, this means that most Brazilian meals include four out of five nutritional groups and highlight balance and routine. This approach can clash with Dutch food values, which often prioritize efficiency, simplicity, clean flavours and standardisation. Which results in an overlook of cuisines that rely on slow cooking, layered flavours, and emotional connection.
A cuisine that does not always fit in the frame.
One more interaction that week reinforced this idea. A young yoga teacher asked whether Brazilian food was similar to Ethiopian food, unsure whether the countries were in South America or Africa. Must confess that it was a bit striking, while it reflects broader gaps in cultural education than an individual failure.
In fact, when a food culture does not fit in familiar frames, it is often ignored rather than explored. Culinary invisibility, in many ways, reflects social invisibility.
When a food culture does not fit familiar frames, it is often ignored rather than explored. Culinary invisibility, in this way, mirrors social invisibility.
Creating space for understanding
My own response has been to continue sharing Brazilian food in different contexts, through events and festivals, but also through everyday meals such as office lunches. In these settings, Brazilian cuisine offers a perspective on how to work with Dutch locals ingredients while valuing time, balance, and care.
Brazilian food does not need to be simplified to be accepted. It needs space, and curiosity.
Original article by Tahiba Melina
Images: Rodrigo Cavassoni