You don’t need to visit Bahia to taste the ocean — just one bowl of Moqueca de Camarão will do the job. This isn’t just shrimp stew, it’s warmth, it’s colour, it’s that feeling when you sit at someone’s table and they’re proud of what they’re feeding you
It’s coconut milk meeting the sea. It’s peppers, garlic, lime, and shrimp mixed in the pan as if they have known each other forever
Where Did This Dish Come From?
Moqueca’s story started long before anyone thought of writing recipes down. Indigenous people were already gently stewing fish and seafood with wild peppers and herbs. Then African flavours — like dendê oil — came in, turning it from good to unforgettable
What we eat now is a plate full of Brazil’s history. No copies, no shortcuts — just flavours that have travelled through time, landing on your spoon.
Ingredients
- Shrimp (fresh, cleaned, ready for glory)
- Coconut milk (creamy, lush, rich)
- Onions, tomatoes, garlic
- Bell peppers, usually bright red and yellow
- Fresh herbs (parsley, cilantro — your call)
- Lime for that sharp, clean kick
- Salt, pepper, and if you love heat — chillies
- A bit of dendê oil if you want that bold, earthy flavour
Instructions
Step 1: Toss the shrimp with lime, garlic, and salt. Let it sit while the pan warms
Step 2: Get your pot hot. Add dendê oil or olive oil, then toss in some onions, garlic and peppers and then allow them to soften, don’t rush it
Step 3: Pour in coconut milk. Stir. Let the whole thing simmer gently
Step 4: Drop the shrimp in last. Let them cook just until pink. Overcooked shrimp is a tragedy
Step 5: Taste it. Add more salt, lime, whatever feels right, then sprinkle some herbs over the top like you’re finishing a painting
Finally, serve it with white rice or maybe a little farofa for a crunchy bite, and yes, please don’t forget a squeeze of lime right at the end
Why Do Brazilians Love It?
Because it’s home in a bowl, you don’t just eat Moqueca — you sit with it. You talk over it. You laugh over it. It’s the kind of meal that will make people slow down and allow them to enjoy, even for those who are always in a rush and hurry. When Moqueca is on the table, people stay a little longer. They reach for more rice, dip their spoon back in the broth, and then someone always says, “This is exactly what I needed”
It’s not that fancy, but it makes you feel important, as if someone cooked it just for you. And when the bowl is empty, you don’t just feel full, but you also feel good and lost in its taste. Like you’ve been somewhere warm, even if you’re in a tiny little kitchen on a rainy day. That’s the thing about Moqueca — once you’ve had it, you don’t just crave the taste again… you crave the moment it gave you.
