Sipping Pineapple Juice with the Rich and Famous at the ORG.

So there was a rumor flying around that a small, all organic restaurant existed not far from my kid's school and after going there with a friend one lunch hour, I fell in love with it. It's a hole in the wall kind of place with chairs made of recycled wood, posters of encyclopedic illustrations of foods, and surfboard hung on the walls. The food is super deelish, and everything comes with a fresh salad topped with edible flowers. Not to mention the ultra-refreshing pineapple-lemon grass juice! Ohhh, my kind of place!

Yesterday, after dropping off my bike for a major tune-up, (you would not believe what riding on the beach can do to a bike, the salt completely ravages it- it's almost as if someone had thrown it overboard a ship off the coast of South Africa and it had washed up on the sand in front of my house), I decided to go back to ORG, my new favorite resto, I know, I know, not the best name, I keep thinking it's short for organ, but no, it's short for organic.

The boy and I scooted upstairs and sat at one of the only two tables available shared with a long bench with pillows overlooking the kitchen and the cooks going over a new delivery of greens. The waitress came over, recognized me and had a little panic attack as she asked me in Portuguese, do you want to order with me or should I get someone who speaks English to come over? The guy sitting next to us on the bench generously starts to offer his translation services in broken English. It's okay, I tell her, I can manage. We order delights-of-the-day and settle in with stickers and little cars to kill time until the food arrives.

Remembering a blog post I read about an expat woman who lives in Italy and how she's surviving, I decide to chat up this guy and practice my Portuguese. Since the boy is sticking stickers on my neck, I pretty sure he won't think I'm picking him up.

-Voce trabalha perto daqui? (Do you work around here?)
-No, I was just at my gym which is close to here. He says to me in English.
-Where are you from? He asks.
-From Vancouver, Canada. I respond.
-How old is your boy? He asks.
-He's three going on four, and you, do you have any children?
-Yes, two daughters, one is 25 and the other is 6. He leans over with pride in his eyes and shows me a picture of a super angelic, blond ringlet-ed little girl on his phone.
-She's gorgeous! Are you doing anything interesting this long weekend? I ask.
-Yes, I'm going to Curitiba.
-To relax with your family?
-No, I'm in a band. I play the harmonica and I sing.
-Cool. I say, imagining him in a second-rate hotel bar with his buddies playing the blues and rock covers.

The food arrives and I'm blowing on my son's eggs when it occurs to me that maybe this older guy with spiky hair might be famous.

-Are you famous? I ask point-blank.
-Kind-of, he says with a half-smile. My band's name is the Blitz and I'm also an actor in a serie that's been around for 14 years called "A Grande Familia", but we're on vacation now.
-Oh, I only ask because everyone tells me that many famous people live in this neighborhood but you know, I'm Canadian, so I have no idea. So, it must be like working with family when you've been on this serie for so long, right?
-Yup, and we fight like family too. He says with a smile as he hands over his credit card to the waitress to pay for his bill.
-Well, have a nice gig in Curitiba! I wave goodbye as he goes down the stairs.
-Nice to meet you! He waves back.

When I got back home on my newly greased bike, I looked him up. My lunch "date" is not "kind-of" famous, he is extremely famous. Like a Jim Carey/Brian Adams kind-of famous. When I told my husband that I had lunch with Evandro Mesquita, he gasped.

-Really? You had lunch with Evandro Mestiqua? I grew up with the Blitz! I loved them! I remember doing a lot of impersonations of Evandro with my sister and my cousins when I was a kid.

Grew up with the Blitz? Oh, boy, I knew what that meant. Full-on 80's! Brace yourself.