January 2003

Typical Brazilian beef cuts include picanha, a rump steak folded inside its fat cap into a taut U, and fraldinha, the elongated bottom sirloin. Once you begin consuming vast quantities of meat, a waiter scurries off to fetch an array of side dishes, ranging from rice and beans, to potatoes, fried yucca and fried bananas. There are also a couple of mild, forgettable sauces. Something with some more zip and spice would be welcome. 

It's a good show. And yet this operation is dogged by two persistent problems. First, the staff rarely anticipates the customers' needs. It isn't just a matter of the beverages they don't refill or the dirty dishes they don't clear. It's that they don't bring fresh plates when you want your salads removed or when too many uneaten gnarly bits start piling up. They just heap more and more on you. I, for one, need to believe that I'm having a civilized meal rather than my turn at the trough, even if it is a necessary fiction. 

The other problem is that the kitchen will send out too much well-cooked meat. On a busy weekend night, there's no problem. The flesh comes off the grill at such an alarming pace that you should have no trouble finding the level of doneness that best suits you on any given skewer. But during a slow lunch service, it was crispy critters all around. I finally told a gaucho that I wanted (for my $22.50) one slice of picanha that was still pink. He immediately had a fresh cut put on the rotisserie for me and then rushed to the table. Of course it was nearly raw (I think there must still be a recently de-rumped cow wandering around Dunwoody), but we did find one edge that qualified as medium-rare. Delicious.

There are some creamy desserts to be had at meal's end -- everything from a tasty peach Melba (made with coconut ice cream, canned peaches and raspberry sauce) to a papaya mousse. I'm happy with an excellent espresso and a moment's pause. Talk about fire in the belly.