A taste of Cape Verde
Islands' sounds and flavors are found at Cesaria
The five musicians on stage at Restaurante Cesaria in Dorchester launched into the opening notes of Tito Paris's classic "Era Um Sonho" ("Was a Dream"). Recognizing the tune, Tony Lopes, a 48-year-old neighborhood resident, clapped his hands enthusiastically. Soon the 50 other people lounging at tables joined Lopes's clapping. Their warm reception was soon met by the alto voice of Mirri Lobo, a Cape Verdean singer who was the concert's headliner, as he began singing in Portuguese.
"When the sun shines upon you," sang Lobo, clad casually in jeans and a brown corduroy jacket, "your smile is like a glowing landscape."
Other Cape Verdean restaurants in Dorchester, such as Ka-Carlos Restaurant in Upham's Corner and Restaurant Laura near Edward Everett Square, host concerts by famous Cape Verdean artists, but many consider Cesaria a major touchstone of the culture. The large restaurant with its jewel-colored walls has become a place of pride not only for people in the neighborhood but for Cape Verdeans and those appreciative of the culture who once had to travel to Brockton to find a similar venue.
Half a million people from Cape Verde live in the United States, most of them in New England. In comparison, fewer than 500,000 people live in Cape Verde itself, a string of islands off Senegal's coast. Because Cape Verde is a poor country with persistent drought and few natural resources, it has long been a country of emigrants. Two-thirds of Cape Verdeans live abroad.
As early as 1620, Cape Verde developed ties to New England as a port in the slave trade. Nantucket whalers began visiting Cape Verde in the early 18th century, often to pick up crew members. Cape Verdean whalers eventually began settling in New Bedford. As Cape Verdeans moved to cities such as Boston and Brockton, businesses sprouted up to cater to their culture.
Since opening in 2002, Restaurante Cesaria, named after legendary singer Cesaria Evora, has hosted famous singers as well as local talent such as Calu Bana and Bjedjas. Even in these tough economic times, the restaurant, which can hold 99 people, lured 50 to see Lobo on a Friday night. The $30 ticket price included the concert and a buffet dinner of traditional Cape Verdean food.
When Evora and other Cape Verdean luminaries perform at local mainstream venues, they usually stop by Cesaria afterward to hang out or enjoy a meal such as katchupa, a pork, beans, and hominy stew. In 2006, Evora mentioned its hospitality in an interview with the Chicago Sun-Times. "The man who runs the place invited me to come to dinner after my show," she said. "So no matter how far away, we are all just like family."
The man who extended the invitation to Evora was Tony Barros, who co-owns Cesaria with his business partner Jose Fonseca. "The plan was we always wanted to provide the music, the cuisine - you know, provide the total package of Cape Verdean culture," says Barros, a former music promoter and musician in his own right. "So the music was always part of the plan from the beginning."
Although Cape Verde is only slightly larger than Rhode Island, the country has one of the most thriving music scenes in the world. Singers such as Evora and Lura have won international acclaim and play major concert halls. But there's also a community of highly regarded Cape Verdean musicians such as Bana, Sara Tavares, Maria de Barros, and Tcheka for whom a stop at Cesaria is a tour necessity. These artists perform wherever the widely scattered Cape Verdeans have settled - not only England, France, and Holland, but states such as Rhode Island, New Jersey, and California, and cities such as Boston and Brockton.
Mirri Lobo, cousin of the respected Cape Verdean singer Ildo Lobo, who died in 2004, has come to the United States to relaunch his music career. To drum up interest, he will tour Cesaria and several other Cape Verdean restaurants here and in Connecticut and Rhode Island.
"They come to Dorchester," says Tim Sieber, 57, a professor of anthropology at UMass-Boston who has seen Bana, Tavares, Paris, Tcheka, and Ferro Gaita at Cesaria. "That's part of the US segment of their tour. It's a nice thing to live in a place where you have this happening. We are one of the important notes in the Cape Verdean diaspora."
Anibal Ramos, 34, who lives in the Seaport District, discovered Cesaria through a Cape Verdean co-worker when the restaurant opened. Though he was born in Cape Verde, Ramos grew up in the United States. But he was yearning to imbibe the food, drink, and culture of his home country.
Now Ramos eats at the restaurant two or three times a week, he says - "which is part of the reason why I spend a little extra time at the gym." On the night Mirri Lobo played, Ramos casually migrated from table to table. He talked with a group of friends until the buffet opened. Then he ate dinner with another group.
Cesaria holds a special place in Tony Lopes's heart. As vice president of Associação de Amigos do Mosteiro (Association of Friends From the Islands), he helps raise donations for students and hospitals in Cape Verde. Locals occasionally ask him to organize events for visiting dignitaries. "If someone comes from our country - I'm talking about mayors or prime minister or any high official from government - for a visit, if we're going to put anything together, a nice dinner, I would prefer to go to Cesaria," Lopes says.
During Lobo's concert, Lopes sat at a table next to the stage with his cousin Antonio Oliveira and Oliveira's girlfriend Sheila Gomes. As a teen in Cape Verde, Lopes heard Lobo in concert. "He was always singing," says Lopes, who left Cape Verde when he was 22. "I didn't see him for 27 years. I think it's very important to be here and see him perform."
Lopes was also among the crowd who showed up for the Lura after-party at Cesaria two days after the Lobo concert. Because artists who play at places like Berklee Performance Center or the Orpheum sign exclusive contracts, they cannot perform elsewhere in the area. But that doesn't stop them from ending their nights at Cesaria.
Lopes had enjoyed Lura's concert earlier in the evening at Berklee, which he says attracted a diverse mixture of people. But Lopes had a more intimate encounter with Lura and her band after the concert ended and the musicians moved to Cesaria to wind down. He had met Lura the last time she was in Boston; Lopes and his wife happened to be sitting next to her at Ka-Carlos. At Cesaria, the encounter went beyond exchanging pleasantries: He volunteered to drive Lura and her band back to their hotel in Kenmore Square.
Ramos also had a chance to see the more casual side of Evora a few years ago after she performed at a downtown theater.
"It's like dealing with a normal customer at the restaurant," Ramos says. "She's not crowded by people, just hanging out having a drink and dancing or whatever. That's kind of cool." 