Dear Readers, You know how they say, ‘You don’t know what you don’t know?’ I like to tag it with, ‘Until you know, you know?’ Well, y’all, I didn’t know about Sāo Gonçalinho, and now that I do, I can’t stop thinking about it.
What a ridiculously wonderful celebration! It takes place over five days in Aveiro, Portugal, celebrating Saint Gonçalvo who represents healing and devotion, matchmaking and marital harmony. Outside of New Orleans, I personally have never experienced days and days of thousands of people partying until sunrise, and now that I know, I can’t wait for next year!
One of the traditions includes throwing cavacas from the top of the church, and people catch them while holding their umbrellas turned upside down. They rain down and hit the streets, and it felt so very Mardi Gras to me that I questioned whether I should lift my shirt to receive this rock-hard pastry. The church bell rings loudly as the signal that more cavacas are being thrown, and the locals were tickled that I began to refer to it as “the biscuit bell.” The only time I’ve ever seen folks so excited about biscuits was when I volunteered excessive hours baking them at Sights & Sounds as a part of the Main Street Board.
I was fortunate enough to have native Aveirense people to show me all the traditions of Sāo Gonçalinho. Step one was dinner. Because in Portugal, nothing — and I mean nothing — starts without food. And let me tell you, our pregame meal of authentic and traditional food was absolutely delicious and highly affordable. Then, there’s drinking. A locally-distilled minty liqueur served in an oyster shell was my initiation into the night, followed by dodging a head-injury to catch cavacas, pouring a fiery aguardente into the sweet biscuit-brick, chugging it, and licking the sticky liquor and sugar off the center of the pastry and from my fingers. It was so messy in a child-like way, and it was utterly wonderful. Finally, without breaking my teeth, the penultimate step was to take a bite of the biscuit.
The last step, the part that stayed with me the most, was the less popular and quiet tradition of walking to the canals to think about what we wanted to release — grudges, worries, regrets — and toss our cavacas to the fishes. Standing there by the water, reflecting all the festive lights, I realized that no matter where we are in the world, we find ways to let go of the old and make room for the new. Catch and release.
Whether you’re catching cavacas in Portugal, throwing beads in Galveston, or scoring tamales in a random parking lot, some of life’s sweetest moments are the ones we didn’t know we needed — until we did. Life may not be all gravy, but at least there’s biscuits in the air to help us soak up those lumps. Cheers to both new and old memories and traditions, and salutations to letting things go. Peace, love and biscuits.
XOXO,
Kelly Stone is an educator, comedian, mother, and author who loves the heck outta the river. She welcomes e-letters at kellystone.org or kellystonecomedy@ gmail.com and adores handwritten notes and postcards via good ol’ snail mail: R das Combatentes da Grande Guerra 47, FRAC R, Aveiro, Portugal 3810-087.
