Although there are plenty of bars on Copacabana’s famous Avenida Atlântica – or even at the beach, at the so called quiosques – very few are worth a visit. Many are just tourist traps. Others are much too expensive. No, the really good bars in Copacabana are inland, along Barata Ribeiro street. That road, along with some of the side streets that let onto it, reveals the true face of Copacabana's popular gastronomy. One of the first bars you encounter on Barata Ribeiro is Galeto Sat's. Open seven days a week, always until 5 a.m., the bar is a bohemian temple – but it’s far from being only that. For many cariocas, Sat's serves the best galeto in town. A galeto is a very young chicken (no more than three months old) cooked over a big coal-fired grill.

It might have become one of the more fashionable places in Rio for a caipirinha, yet the simple name of this father-son joint – “Portuguese Kiosk” – suggests humility. Indeed, the pair got their start a decade ago in one of the numerous huts that line the city’s beaches. While the majority of their competitors served the tasty, tried-and-true Rio basics – traditional caipirinhas made with cachaça; beer, and French fries – to sandy-toed beachgoers, Manoel Alves wanted to offer something different.

For a city whose natural beauty is what often sweeps visitors off their feet, Rio’s historical gems often look a little like urban ugly ducklings next to the bikini crowds and chic bars on sandy Ipanema beach. That’s a shame, because Rio Antigo has a great story to tell. Old Rio runs along the Guanabara Bay rather than the open Atlantic, and it was the former that gave the city its name – River of January – when Portuguese explorers came upon it in the first month of 1502.

Rio de Janeiro’s food scene, much like the city itself, operates on its own distinct rhythm – a samba of deep-rooted traditions, neighborhood loyalties, and an ever-present informality that masks the seriousness with which cariocas approach their food. After nearly a decade, we at Culinary Backstreets have resumed our in-depth coverage and guided walks on just where to eat in Rio. Today, we’ve rounded up our essential spots in this forever dance party of a city. For us, an "essential" is not about popularity, trends, or haute cuisine. These are places embedded in the city’s daily life or keepers of specific culinary practices. Where to eat in Rio comes down to places with heart: community gathering spots or businesses that tells a larger story about Rio’s history and its people.

The eyes of Tacacá do Norte’s harried staff widen as yet another customer arrives during the lunchtime rush. The bedroom-sized snack bar can barely hold one line of chairs around its bar but they have somehow managed to squeeze in two. Impatient regulars shake hands and whistle “psst” to the young men staffing the establishment, who gingerly hand steaming pots of shrimp soup and freshly puréed juices over the packed bar.

Rio bars aren’t simply a place to grab a quick drink – though that’s how they can appear to many walking past. The bar is the cornerstone of carioca life, easily earning the nickname of modern-day watering hole. And, more often than not, they’ve got some damn good food. Now, the Rio bars landscape is overstuffed with gin joints and cachaça canteens. So, when we round up our "best" spots in a city, it’s never about Instagramable trends, Michelin stars, or rooftop views. We share the places we genuinely love to go – spots with soul, history, and that indescribable atmosphere that keeps you lingering. Some of these places may have become well-known institutions over the years, but others remain tucked-away neighborhood joys.

A grill of sizzling coração de galinha (chicken hearts), linguiça (sausage) and churrasco (steak) exudes a plume of smoke that sets the perfect theatrical stage as a woman in a red apron swings from side to side, dancing to Brazilian funk. The meat smells delicious, too. Maybe just one espetinho (skewer) before we go… Sundays at Feira da Glória market in Rio de Janeiro are an all-out assault on the senses – and on shoppers’ willpower. The sight of fruit stacked high on tables is almost as vibrant as Rio itself.

There’s one thing about the very popular Copacabana bar Pavão Azul that remains a mystery, even after 60-odd years of business: its name. Pavão azul means “blue peacock” in Portuguese, but even the owners don’t know where this curious name come from. Some customers who have been frequenting the bar since it opened in the 1950s say that it was named after the bar in the movie “Casablanca” – except that that place was actually called the Blue Parrot. What’s not a mystery is the bar’s popularity. Once just a regular old botequim – a small bar serving simple food – Pavão Azul was discovered by food critics thanks to its patanisca.

If you go to Rio’s Café Lamas to see where leftist organizers met during Brazil’s military dictatorship, go to Majórica to eat steak where the city’s business and political elites gather today. Located on a residential street in Rio’s Flamengo neighborhood, the restaurant from the outside looks like a three-story house, but for the neon red cursive sign with its name. It was founded in 1963 by two brothers from the Spanish island of Majorca. When we last interviewed the owners in 2015, it was being run by the daughter of one brother, together with (then) 79-year-old Galician-born Ernesto Rodriguez, who worked his way up from being the restaurant’s janitor back in 1965.

From the street, Café Lamas looks almost intentionally nondescript. A fluorescent-lit bar with a glass case of snacks and a few metal chairs would make it identical to any other lanchonete (snack bar) across the city, if it weren’t for the shadowy doorway behind the bar’s aisle. Behind that door awaits a blast from the past. Café Lamas is Rio de Janeiro’s oldest restaurant – a respectable 138 years old in a city that is rapidly putting on a new face as it buzzes with Olympic, hotel and condominium construction – and the place radiates a sense of history and tradition. Bow-tied waiters politely bend as guests enter the dining room, which is dimly illuminated by lamps on ornate cast-iron mounts.

When we first entered Titú, a new spot in the trendy Botafogo neighborhood, our mind immediately went to SpongeBob SquarePants, oddly enough, or more specifically, the Krusty Krab, the diner where SpongeBob works as a fry cook. Like the Krusty Krab, this recently opened bar specializes in seafood burgers – when we popped our head into kitchen, we saw a mountain of patties awaiting the grill. The only difference between Krusty and Titú – besides the fact that latter is real and the former is merely a fantasy under the sea – is that at Titú the burgers are not made of crab, but of octopus. Delicious and tender baby octopuses, captured in the waters off the coast of Rio de Janeiro.

Twenty years ago, Rio de Janeiro was teeming with food markets: big indoor venues full of stalls where people could go to buy groceries, fresh meat and produce, but also stay for a while to have a drink or two, maybe some appetizers, or even sit down for a meal. As time went by cariocas spent less time in these markets, instead shopping in grocery stores and eating at restaurants; the markets continued to limp forward only because of some strong-willed and stubborn merchants who refused to shut down their businesses.

Five years ago, Diogo Gomes, the owner of Art Chopp, a bar in the Jacarepaguá neighborhood, was seated at one of the bar’s 36 tables. There were no customers: only him, the cook and two waiters. The heavy rain falling outside began to drip from the ceiling and soak the floors. Even wetter, though, was Diogo’s face – he was crying, he later explained to us, because he was sure that he would have to shutter the empty bar and give up on his lifelong dream. In addition to the lack of customers, he was facing a mountain of debts; Diogo was one step away from bankruptcy.

The huge counter at Adega Pérola in Rio de Janeiro contains a multitude of culinary surprises. The botequim offers more than 50 types of petiscos (the Portuguese terms for tapas) from both land and sea, and we have yet to try one that we didn’t like.

Over the last couple of years, Rio de Janeiro’s food scene has experienced a Peruvian invasion. Encouraged by the buzz of the 2016 Olympic Games, more than 10 restaurants and bars focused on Peruvian cuisine opened up shop in Rio. But many of those spots are fine dining establishments, plating up the kind of sophisticated cuisine found in Lima – the capital of Peru is a culinary powerhouse and one of the best places to eat in the world. But there are exceptions. We stumbled on one in an old house in the Botafogo neighborhood. At this restaurant, called Pop up Peru, there are no fancy decorations, nor any kind of complex contemporary recipes. Even Lima’s influences are conspicuously absent.