Broa Café
297 Grove St.
(201) 463-1467
broacafe@gmail.com
I walk up and down Grove Street all the time, but I somehow missed this small Portuguese eatery. It’s below street level, so you need to keep an eye out for it. Above it is the Feena Boutique, owned by Elizabeth Casalinho, who happens to be the sister of Broa owner Michael Casalinho.
When you open the door, you’re immediately struck by how beautiful the restaurant is. The compact space is filled with wood and terracotta and objects, such as shawls, aprons, photos, a lantern, a bell, and dolls that evoke the Casalinhos’ Portuguese roots. A glass-top table in the center of the dining room is made with a huge, carved prison door.
Michael doesn’t believe in menus. He cooks whatever is locally fresh and handwrites the offerings on a chalkboard. “I shop every day,” he says. “If somebody calls and says they have a harvest of gooseneck barnacles, I say ‘yes.’”
The kitchen has an open plan, so you can watch Michael cook and smell whatever is steaming and bubbling on the stove. Salads, produce, and fish are displayed in a glass deli case, so you can see how fresh they are.
Baskets on the table are filled with Portuguese cornbread, which is what “broa” means, along with a small dish of olives.
High on a shelf over the stove are ceramic boats, made by Jersey City artist Beth DiCara (see page TK). The bowls, which bear the names of female Casalinho family members, are used to serve salads and other dishes.
Our boat was filled with a delicious black-eyed-pea salad, with parsley, onions, cilantro, and red-and-white onion in a vinaigrette dressing. Atop the salad were two very large Portuguese sardines, which were light and airy, not as fishy as smaller supermarket ones, packed in tin cans and opened with a key.
Next up were four cod fritters, crispy on the outside and moist on the inside, served with fresh lemon.
Michael braced us for a dish “as Portuguese as it gets.” This turned out to be garden snails in a steamed broth, tiny critters with beautiful striped shells. Full disclosure: They were a little adventurous for us, but I’m banking on Jersey City foodies to eat them right up.
A dish of clams cooked in their shells with vinho verde, a young green Portuguese wine, was a big hit with photographer Terri Bish.
The last entrée was a very popular Portuguese sausage of pulled chicken and pork. To prepare it, Michael removes the casings and deep fries them, so they have a crispy texture on the outside and are creamy and fluffy on the inside. It’s served with pickled vegetables and kale.
The dessert, a warm egg custard in a pastry puff with cinnamon, garnished with coffee beans, was served in a slate pipe, cut in half, and salvaged from a roof. Never mind the plate; it was scrumptious.
A word about the portions: They’re comfortably small, and that’s the way Michael wants it. “You never see a giant plate of food in Portugal unless it’s a wedding,” he says. “I want to do what my grandmother would do—small portions of the best-quality wines, olive oil, spices, salt—everything.”
Michael and his sister grew up in Newark’s Ironbound section.
“I want to be real, not fancy,” Michael says. “People are losing themselves in the hype of plating. I want to give people an authentic experience.”—Kate Rounds