Adega Pérola, a bar that sticks close to its Iberian roots, offers more than 50 types of tapas from both land and sea. One of the best is the fresh tuna marinated in olive oil and served with onions, best eaten with your hands.

Carnival in Rio is one of the world’s best parties, and for good reason. There are the extravagant costumes, the sweaty entertainers and revelers dancing to roaring samba music, and, most importantly, free flowing alcohol: Public inebriation, whether from drinking cheap beer or slurping spiked popsicles, is heavily encouraged. While nothing can top this pre-Lent bash, a newly reopened entertainment temple in Lapa offers a Carnival-like experience year-round. At Baródromo, you can soak in the Carnival ambience while downing delicious beers, eating well and listening to the best samba music out there.

The sun is already down when the food kiosks at the entrance to the Z10 fishing colony open their doors. It’s evening and we are on Ilha do Governador (Governor’s Island), the largest island in Guanabara Bay and far away from Rio’s tourist spots – the only reason most visitors come to this working-class suburb is to catch a flight at the Rio de Janeiro International Airport. These kiosks are almost all alike: boring food stalls serving bland seafood broths, bad pizzas and standard sandwiches. But six months ago, a new kiosk set up shop, one that was completely different from the others. It’s called Lá na Rosi and serves some of the most amazing street food in Rio.

Where the British have a Sunday roast, Cariocas spend their Sunday afternoons at churrascos, Brazilian barbecues. Starting in the mid-afternoon, Rio’s residents typically gather in squares and street corners throughout the city and load spindly grills with slabs of meat. As the evening draws on, skewers and sausages are washed down with copious amounts of beer, and people shake their hips furiously as sizeable loudspeakers blare out samba and Brazilian pop classics. It’s a long-established recipe for a good time. Churrascos of this sort are most commonly held in the working-class suburbs. But what’s a resident of Rio’s new, more genteel, middle-class neighborhoods to do on a Sunday? The answer is being provided by Praticità Carnes, a churrascaria with the suburbanite in mind.

Lapa is the heart of bohemian Rio de Janeiro, a place that pulses with samba music and the clamor of bargoers. Local musicians, artists and intellectuals (and tourists, too) flock to this old neighborhood, which during the day is best known for its rich stock of colonial-era architecture and where at night more than 200 bars fight for customers. Almost all the bars offer the same thing: live samba music, cheap beer and bad food. But Contemporâneo Lapa is bucking this trend. The bar is situated on one of the most frenzied blocks in Lapa – it’s brimming with prostitutes and drug dealers (the neighborhood hasn’t completely shed its dubious reputation) as well as tourists and Cariocas chasing a wild night out.

When we talk about the “suburbs” in Brazil, some may imagine the affluent outer boroughs of London, New York or Singapore. But in Rio de Janeiro, they’re nothing like that. Far from its beautiful beaches, Christ the Redeemer and Sugarloaf Mountain, the city’s suburbs are the opposite of tony – they’re where Rio’s working-class people live. Yet the suburbs are where you can find the most authentic carioca soul. They are home to the biggest favelas, the most important samba schools, Afro-Brazilian religious temples, the majority of football fields and, of course, the best botequins, or local bars.

We hear it every time we bring up the V-word: “But it’s impossible to be a vegetarian in Rio!” Nonsense. Not only is it possible to eat an earthy diet here in Rio, it’s getting so trendy that carnivorous cariocas are increasingly forgoing their weekend churrasco (grilled meat on a stick) for the kaleidoscope of couve (collard greens), cogumelos (mushrooms), tofu and all of its soy brethren. While Rio de Janeiro’s vegetarian options are often lunch-only buffet-style joints (and we like those too), we’ve been intrigued by the rise of a few more boutique à la carte places. And we appreciate that Prana Cozinha Vegetariana is one of those that does not come with boutique prices.

Autumn in Rio finds the city at its the best. The days are sunny, the scorching heat of January and February has subsided, and it's low season for tourists, which means the beaches are less crowded. The only problem with fall days is they end too early—the sun sets by 6:00 pm in April. If you want to keep the day going, one good option is to head to one of the city's many beachside pé sujos (literally, dirty feet), ultra-casual outdoor bars. On a recent April evening we found ourselves at Bar Bunda de Fora (Bar Butt-Out), steps from Copacabana Beach. According to owner Deborah Cardoso, the bar got its nickname because the interior used to be so small that when customers placed their orders at the counter their rear ends were technically outside the bar. It's a classic low-key Rio joint: the beer is light, cheap, and bem gelada (very cold); the stools are made of plastic; and the food is fried. The crowd is young and old, mostly made up of families and neighbors.

The calango is a tiny lizard commonly found in the hottest, driest and poorest parts of Brazil’s Northeastern countryside, and in popular culture, the calango is also a symbol of hunger. Someone who eats calango is driven to do so because he has nothing else to eat. Thankfully, at Kalango there’s plenty to eat. Kalango (the “K” is for chef Kátia Barbosa, owner also of Aconchego Carioca) is a spartan botequim, or small gastropub, located near downtown that serves the specialties of Brazil’s Northeast states. This comida sertaneja, as it’s called, is very hard to find in Rio.

Asking cariocas if they remember their first Biscoito Globo, the ubiquitous, crunchy beach snack, is like asking anyone who teethed in the United States if they remember trying Cheerios for the first time. Globo biscuits and sweet iced mate are to Rio's beaches what hot dogs and beer are to American baseball stadiums. Calls of “Ó Globo! Ó mate!” are the soundtrack along the shores of Copacabana, Ipanema and Leblon. The iconic packaging, which features a globe-headed mascot surrounded by the Eiffel Tower, the Tower of Pisa, Portugal's Belém Tower and Rio's Sugarloaf, has been reproduced on t-shirts, tote bags, and cangas (sarongs).

Portuguese gastronomy is at the core of Rio's botequins, the small, often family-run gastrobars spread all over the city. Traditional botequins offer European food and some unique aspects of Brazilian culture – mix you’ll find only in Rio. That being said, it’s hard to say whether Tasca Carvalho, the brand new Portuguese gastrobar in Copacabana, is a typical botequim. Run by two young Portuguese friends newly arrived from Porto, Tasca Carvalho is not a mix, but 100 percent Portuguese. And that makes it unique in Rio's street food landscape. Perhaps the only indication of Brazilian influence you might find at Tasca Carvalho is in the ambience. The tables and benches, spread all over the sidewalk, follow the carioca rules of informality.

Jambú-infused cachaça is bitter and a bit grassy, and newcomers to the drink often grimace at first taste. But seconds later something happens: the liquor's harshness gives way to a gentle tingling, then numbness, first on the tip of the tongue, then to the lips and the back of the throat. Next, the mouth salivates, pulses, and other foods and drinks take on new flavors: a cheap beer suddenly tastes like champagne. The second quaff is often taken much more eagerly than the first. Jambú, or acmella oleracea, is a flowering herb found throughout the Amazon and other warm, humid climates.

Cariocas don’t give much love to Niterói, joking that the only reason to go to this city across Guanabara Bay is for its spectacular view of Rio de Janeiro. But while less busy and far less popular than Rio, Niterói is full of lovely beaches, great museums, excellent restaurants and hundreds of bars. Among the many reasons to visit is Salve Simpatia, a botequim – or small, family-run bar serving snacks to go with drinks – where traditional bar gastronomy mixes perfectly with delicious artisanal burgers, specialty beers and remarkably good music, especially samba. Salve Simpatia (which means something like “Hello, my brother” in Portuguese) opened in 2012 and was known only to locals in the Icaraí area for a while.

In Rio, there’s a saying, “And once again, suddenly it’s Carnival.” It’s a joke, of course – as if Carnival didn’t occupy cariocas’ minds a significant part of the year. But the truth is that, in a way, this is precisely what’s going on right now in the “Wonderful City.” Official Carnival events begin in two weeks, but the samba shows, parties, feasts and merriment are everywhere. Suddenly, it’s already Carnival. And this early Carnival mood expresses itself better every year at the samba schools’ rehearsals for the official parades, which are scheduled to begin on February 24. From next Thursday until then, at least 15 parties will take place at the most important samba schools’ headquarters, as well as in the Sambadrome – Rio’s main parade zone – itself.

Once upon a time, three brothers decided to immigrate. They left their hometown, an extremely poor city called Canindé, in the northeastern state of Ceará, went to Rio de Janeiro and started working in construction. They built a lot of brick walls, ceilings and roofs. Then, after two years of hard work, they decided to open a bar where they would sell roast chicken, northeastern food and grilled pork ribs. That bar, officially called Roda Viva, became known as Três Porquinhos (Three Little Pigs) when a customer connected the image of the three brothers working together with the classic children’s tale.