In a city filled with Technicolor snack bars, Casa Paladino Comestíveis instead looks more like the kind of place where you’d find seedy men smoking cigars in a black-and-white film. Glass cases lining the walls display manila-labeled cachaça and Cuban rum bottles, with an occasional anachronism, like boxed Toddynho chocolate milk, breaking its turn-of-the-century salon aesthetic. Cloudy mirrors, a handwritten menu and a grape-adorned Bacchus sculpture decorate its black carved wooden walls.

Editor’s note: This post is the third installment of “Best Bites of 2013,” a roundup of our top culinary experiences over the last year. Stay tuned for “Best Bites” from all of the cities Culinary Backstreets covers. Bar do Adão There are so many good fillings – 65, in fact – for the pastéis, or fried turnovers, at Bar do Adão that we appreciate their diminutive size, which allows us to eat a greater variety in one sitting.

Dear Culinary Backstreets, My husband and I are headed to Rio for vacation and neither of us eats meat or fish. Brazil sounds like a paradise for the carnivorous, but what’s a vegetarian to do?

With 4,500 miles of coastline, the world’s largest river by volume (the Amazon), more than 10,000 miles of waterways and the largest amount of fresh water on the planet, Brazil suffers from a certain gastronomical misperception. Yes, this is a country that loves beef, prominently on display in popular Brazilian churrascarias.

Rio’s Port Zone is undergoing a major facelift, and whether that will nicely polish its tired face or look like a botched Botox job remains to be seen. The port is the heart of Rio Antigo and particularly central to Afro-Brazilian history.It’s home to Rio’s first favela (squatter settlement), called Providência, which was originally populated in 1897 by veterans of the War of Canudos who were told the government would provide housing when they returned to Rio and found those promises to be delayed and elusive. At this port, up to an estimated half million slaves walked in from Brazil’s shores to then be sold in the port’s slave market, treated in a hospital if they were sick or buried if they died after arrival in Gamboa, where a fascinating makeshift museum called the Cemitério dos Pretos Novos offers a view of the human bones a homeowner found while digging on her property.

Favelas just aren’t what they used to be – or what you thought they were. Rio’s squatter settlements have grown up, though uneven development still leaves considerable gaps in terms of policing, sanitation, sewage and public services. But the favela label is increasingly arbitrary as Rio’s “slums” – we put that in quotes because we think that word often leads to some generous and inaccurate flights of imagination – start to look more like working-class bairros. And they’re working their way up to becoming the more intriguing and inviting parts of the carioca landscape.

Editor's Note: Sadly, this spot is now closed. Just inside the entrance of Fat Choi hangs a meter-tall photo of a many-armed statue of Guanyin, the Buddhist Goddess of Mercy. Iana, the daughter of Fat Choi’s founder, Silvana Assumpção, took the photo in a hotel in Macao, the infamous Chinese port and sin city. She then photoshopped out the hotel scene in the background and added bright fluffy white clouds. Macao hotels show up in posters elsewhere in the restaurant, along with a backlit aquarium with choose-your-own tilapia.

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Perhaps nothing epitomizes Rio de Janeiro’s hedonistic approach to cuisine more than a popular deep-fried finger food: the pastel. A bite into one of these fresh, crispy stuffed dough pockets – which range from a palm-sized crescent moon to a rectangle as big as a dinner plate – releases a blow of hot steam that envelops the diner’s face in an aromatic cloud carrying the fragrance of the decadent fillings inside.

Dear Culinary Backstreets, I hear that prices in Rio are Olympic-sized. How can I eat the best the city has to offer, without spending an arm and a leg? It’s true that prices in Rio aren’t what they used to be. As a recent New York Times article notes, Brazilians pay extremely high prices (particularly relative to wages) for just about everything from food to automobiles, due to both high inflation and a tax system that’s skewed in favor of consumption taxes. The high prices hurt both consumers and businesses. As NPR reported, one Italian restaurant in Sao Paulo recently went as far as taking tomatoes off its menu because the cost had shot up so much. Meanwhile, an influx of money – from the construction boom ahead of the upcoming 2014 World Cup and 2016 Summer Olympics and from the growing oil and gas sector developing off Rio’s coast – is driving up prices even further. Indeed, what’s most surprising about Rio’s priciest locales is how oversized the lines to get into them are.

Editor's Note: Sadly, this spot is now closed. Rio’s Mercado São José looks all but abandoned during the day. The windowless white building with blue trim hosts a small fruit vendor and a thrift shop during work hours. A band practices capoeira – Brazilian martial arts – occasionally on the weekends. But the market bursts with chatter and merrymaking in the evening, thanks in large part to boyish chef Bruno Magalhães and his inventive bar and restaurant, Botero.

The Praça da Bandeira, an area of Rio that until recent years was mostly known for prostitution and cheap inner-city housing, is rapidly changing. Lying in the shadow of the massive Maracanã Stadium – built for the 1950 World Cup and the planned location of the opening ceremony of the 2016 Summer Olympics – it is alive with new construction and pedestrian traffic, which are changing the tired face of this historical but underappreciated neighborhood. And sitting snugly in the midst of this new buzz is Aconchego Carioca, a restaurant and bar with one of the best beer menus in Rio.

When Brazilians take to the streets and block traffic, scoff at law enforcement, set off fireworks and relieve themselves in city corners that have already seen a little too much relief, I usually assume it’s Carnaval and happily join in. But the demonstrations that have brought hundreds of thousands to the streets in recent weeks are decidedly un-carnivalesque. They are a deeply serious cry of frustration from Brazilians who, after decades of remaining quiet, are protesting the yawning gap between the success story the nation sells to outsiders and the basic needs of locals that are still far from being met.

Dear Culinary Backstreets, What is the situation in Rio de Janeiro these days in terms of personal safety? Is it dangerous for foreigners, or can we explore the city beyond the beachside Ipanema hotels? Rio de Janeiro is a city with two very divergent reputations. On the one hand, gringos know the city through ultraviolent films like City of God and seemingly endless news stories on shootouts between drug traffickers and police in the city’s makeshift favelas. On the other hand, it’s a seaside Carnival paradise as carefree as Carmen Miranda, swarming with deep-pocketed offshore oil workers and booming with new hotel and infrastructure construction leading up to the 2014 World Cup and 2016 Summer Olympics. What gives?

To call someone a cachaceiro in Brazil is to deal a pretty low Portuguese blow. The word translates roughly to “drunkard” and evokes the image of an unkempt alcoholic clutching a plastic bottle of the powerful local liquor known as cachaça. It’s no coincidence that the name of the drink made with cachaça, the caipirinha, comes from the word caipira, roughly meaning “redneck” or “country.” That the national spirit is invoked in insults is emblematic of the poor image the drink has long had, but which has recently been changing. Like the newly assertive Brazil, the sugarcane-based alcohol is finding its way into chic circles where it was once seen as a bit cheap and rustic. In the past, a posh dinner host in Brazil would offer her guests a uisque (whiskey) or imported wine. But these days, it seems cariocas are finally embracing the truth: the caipirinha is a profoundly refreshing godsend on a steamy Rio summer night. A thriving cachaceiro scene is now budding both in Brazil and among a growing fan base abroad.