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OPINION | PRINT |
| Fire
of Brazil: Nice to meat you |
By
Danny Solomon Bonvissuto,
dsbonvissuto@nashvillecitypaper.com
January 26, 2006
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Halfway
through my meal at Fire of
Brazil, I had so much meat on my
plate I couldn’t remember
which was which.
Sure, the bacon-wrapped chicken
and pork sausage were easy to
identify, and clearly the ribs
weren’t a problem, but things
got blurry between the rump
steak, filet, sirloin, leg of
lamb and pork loin.
I have only myself to blame. I
got all caught up in watching my
mother-in-law giggle with glee
as she was flanked (pun
intended) by gauchos on either
side slicing meat from their
skewers and prompting her to
pull it off with her tongs.
In any case, it was all such a
blur. I spent a fair amount of
time just inside the door of
what was previously the Cooker
trying to disconnect my
Pavlovian triggers of sniffing
the air for the sweet scent of
macaroni and cheese. Then the
strange Brazilian snack stand by
the entrance threw me off, but
once we were seated and greeted,
I figured things would balance
out.
And for a while they did. We
took a trip or two around the
salad bar, a term way too
general for the prosciutto-wrapped
melon, crisp and chilled green
beans, tomato, buffalo
mozzarella and basil leaf stacks
and cocktail shrimp that helped
comprise the spread.
But all the while, the hawks
were circling. Smiling men
carrying large portions of slow
roasted meats lurked, ready to
pounce the second we flipped our
little Fire of Brazil cards from
red (no meat, please) to green
(bring it on, boys).
And then when we did it was like
a carnivorous cyclone. Hands
flew by in every direction,
delivering fried bananas and
yucca, bowls of rice and beans,
and offering the best the grill
had to offer.
But it’s all fun and games
until you forget what you’re
eating, which gives a whole new
definition to the term
“mystery meat.” This,
though, is not a reflection of
the quality of the food —
every piece was hot, cooked to
perfection and many selections
melted right in my mouth.
Still, it’s not every day that
you find yourself in a position
to have an all-you-can-eat filet
fest — so for $39.50 a plate
you might as well keep the green
side up and the charred flesh a-flowin’.
The Brazilian steakhouse, or
churrascaria, is — much like
The Melting Pot — a special
occasion kind of place.
Personally, I don’t ingest as
much meat in a year as is done
in one sitting at Fire of
Brazil. But for those counting
carbs, or looking for that
“something different” place
to go with friends or family,
it’s a tasty theme that will
almost certainly not leave you
wanting more. |
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