For decades, the sprawling metropolis of São Paulo viewed high-end gastronomy through a distinctly European lens. Fine dining meant replicating classic French techniques, Italian pasta shapes, or traditional Japanese omakase with imported ingredients flown in at great expense. But a quiet culinary revolution has been sweeping through Brazil’s economic capital, driven by a generation of top-tier chefs who have turned their backs on strict Eurocentric imitation in favor of an authentic, fiercely local culinary language. This paradigm shift was recently validated when two of the city’s leading institutions, Evvai and Tuju, earned three Michelin stars, marking a historic milestone for Latin American gastronomy.
The journey toward this localized identity has been gradual, forged through years of introspection, rigorous research, and a renewed appreciation for Brazil’s staggering biodiversity. Chef Luiz Filipe Souza of Evvai pinpoints the 2019 Bocuse d’Or as the definitive turning point in his professional trajectory. Two years prior to the prestigious international culinary competition, Souza had opened Evvai in São Paulo, serving high-end Italian fare. However, the international championship demands that competing chefs authentically represent their native cultures, leading Souza to cook Brazilian food in a professional setting for the very first time.
"It opened up a whole new palate," Souza reflects. Having spent formative years working in Italy, he describes himself as a "super nerd" of Italian cooking, yet he eventually realized that he could never share the same visceral connection to it as an indigenous Italian. "I didn’t grow up at my grandmother’s side eating gnocchi—I ate rice and beans."
While training intensively for the Bocuse d’Or, Souza began experimenting with native fruits and indigenous ingredients in the mornings—incorporating items such as cupuaçu, baniwa chillies, and tucupi, a pungent fermented cassava sauce—before returning to his restaurant at night to serve refined Italian dishes. Gradually, Souza began guiding Evvai down a more uniquely Brazilian path, successfully fusing elements and techniques from both of his culinary worlds. That evolutionary blend culminated in April, when Evvai achieved the rare and prestigious distinction of earning three Michelin stars, cementing its status at the pinnacle of global gastronomy.
Evvai shares this monumental achievement with Tuju, another foundational São Paulo institution that underwent its own profound transformation. Founded in 2014 by chef Ivan Ralston, Tuju initially offered a mixed format of tasting and à la carte menus featuring familiar European mainstays such as steak tartare and steak and chips. Within months of opening, the restaurant earned its first Michelin star—a recognition Ralston initially suspected was a practical joke—followed by a second star in 2018.
However, a mandatory two-year closure prompted by the coronavirus pandemic forced a profound reassessment. Ralston used the downtime to travel extensively across Brazil, visiting independent producers, farmers, and artisans in search of inspiration. In the years that followed, Tuju established its own dedicated research center, led by his partner Katherina Cordás, and completely overhauled its menu to focus on seasonality in a distinctly Brazilian context.
"We grow up hearing that Brazil doesn’t have seasons," Ralston notes. Through rigorous field research, however, he and Cordás discovered that the climate patterns in the São Paulo region do indeed shift dramatically, though they are defined not by traditional northern hemisphere temperature drops, but by precipitation.
Today, Tuju’s multi-course tasting menu is meticulously structured around four distinct seasonal indicators: rain, wind, drought, and humidity. The rainy-season menu—corresponding to the Brazilian summer—features complex dishes incorporating squid, tomatoes, and tamarind. This gives way to the wind season, when Jerusalem artichokes, clams, and sardines reach their absolute peak. The subsequent drought brings forth earthy root vegetables such as cassava and carrots, while the humidity welcomes tender artichokes and courgettes to the forefront.
Ralston firmly believes that veering away from rigid Western standards has allowed Brazilian restaurants to finally capture the global imagination. "We have to have our own language," he says, describing the national culinary identity as "maybe a bit rougher, but more original." That uncompromising approach earned Tuju the prestigious Art of Hospitality award from The 50, an organization that maintains an influential global ranking of the world’s best restaurants.
This growing embrace of Brazilianness across São Paulo’s food scene has been greatly facilitated by a rapid, qualitative improvement in local produce. The city now boasts world-class artisanal cheeses, exceptional charcuterie, and innovative wines, many of them cultivated organically or biodynamically. Furthermore, an increasing willingness among top chefs to incorporate native fruits and vegetables has elevated local ingredients to center stage. These superior domestic products have allowed kitchens to celebrate Brazil’s natural bounty. While Evvai still imports select specialty ingredients from Italy, Tuju utilizes very little from abroad. "At Tuju, only 10 per cent of customers are foreign. I don’t want that to change," Ralston emphasizes. "I want to be a restaurant that Brazilians come to."
This pioneering spirit traces its roots back to trailblazers like Alex Atala, who founded D.O.M. in 1999 at a time when fine dining in São Paulo remained strictly European in outlook. Like Ralston and Souza, Atala discovered through his early cooking experiences in Europe that he could never truly replicate those classic cuisines back home. Instead, he scoured the vast expanses of Brazil for indigenous techniques and wild ingredients—most famously incorporating Amazonian ants—and shifted to a wholeheartedly Brazilian menu. In 2013, Atala was named one of Time magazine’s most influential people, and D.O.M. has proudly maintained two Michelin stars since 2015. Diners can expect inventive creations such as alligator paired with bacuri, a sweet-sour native fruit, or veal served in a rich coffee sauce. "Atala brought a different way of looking at things—a Brazilian way—which was unthinkable at the time," Ralston observes.
Another foundational pillar of the modern movement is Maní, opened in 2006 by founder Helena Rizzo, who spent her formative years cooking in renowned European establishments such as Spain’s El Celler de Can Roca. Rizzo created a uniquely Brazilian take on fine dining by fusing native ingredients with inspiration drawn from the diverse immigrant communities that have made Brazil their home. The result is an innovative menu featuring house-made hoshigaki, or dried persimmon, served in a delicate duck tartare, or an escabeche-inspired preparation utilizing tambaqui, a massive river fish native to the country.
Meanwhile, other chefs are taking Brazilian gastronomy into new physical and conceptual spaces. Unlike many of the city’s high-end establishments situated in upscale districts, A Casa do Porco is located in São Paulo’s gritty, historically neglected downtown area, which has been undergoing gradual gentrification. Dedicated entirely to pork sourced from the owners’ own farm, the restaurant serves a playful multi-course tasting menu that might include pork temaki or a delicate pork soufflé, before concluding with traditional roast pork accompanied by rice, beans, banana, and fresh vegetables. Despite its critical acclaim, the atmosphere remains effortlessly casual, welcoming diners in shorts and flip-flops, while a bustling takeaway hatch provides gourmet pork sandwiches to passersby.
In the smart Jardim Paulista neighborhood, restaurant Dêze offers an intimate dining experience limited to just 35 covers per evening. Originally launched in the remote coastal village of Caraíva in Bahia—accessible only by boat—chef Yuri Escobar relocated the concept to the metropolis to reach a wider audience. Like many of his peers, Escobar’s tasting menu prioritizes seasonality alongside advanced European curing and fermentation techniques. Unusually for Brazil, however, his dishes elevate vegetables to an equal footing with meat, resulting in surprising combinations such as sole served with lentils and green papaya, or duck breast paired with fig, rhubarb, and karashi.
Finally, São Paulo’s deep multicultural heritage is vividly represented by Aizomê. Home to the largest Japanese population outside of Japan, the city is saturated with high-end Japanese establishments, but chef Telma Shiraishi explores a thoroughly modern approach that she terms "Nipo-Brazilian" cuisine. Diners seated at the elegant wood counter can sample pirarucu saikyo yaki—utilizing a traditional Japanese fish-grilling method on a native Amazonian fish—or experience a delicate ponzu sauce crafted with tucupi. Accompanied by an exceptional selection of sakes and occasional pours of Japanese wine, these contemporary dining rooms demonstrate how far São Paulo’s culinary identity has evolved.
