In our family it’s a generally accepted truth that when a steakhouse offers you $75 free with the purchase of $300, you must accept. You may not need it, you may not want it, but you must accept. This is how wars are started and how gift cards expire. Which brings us to me, a self-proclaimed sensei of the Seven Habits of Highly Ineffective People, casually informing my wife of this free $75 roughly twelve hours before it turned into digital ash.
So it was we descended upon Fogo de Chão, armed with appetites and vague memories of what the picanha tasted like last time. I selected the $54 Best of Brazil which boldly included everything except the parts you really want, like filet mignon and prime rib. My wife chose the $40 picanha, because, well, she’s smarter and has a better memory for beef (yup, an easter egg for all you Office fans).
The Market Table, in theory, is a celebration of freshness and culinary diplomacy. In practice, the Caesar salad’s croutons had defected, hardened, and were now part of the crunchy resistance. The vegetables were all present but clearly under protest.
Then came the Pão de Queijo, the sort of small, warm, cheesy bread that makes you reconsider every bad thing you’ve ever said about carbs. It was followed by mashed potatoes, which were cold enough to raise Titanic flashbacks, and a mysterious fried object that may have once been yucca, polenta, or a small section of paving stone.
And then, I turned my coaster to “feed me seymour!”, and the skewers began arriving. And this time everything was good. Not just acceptable. Not “eh, it’s meat.” But glorious! The lamb sang a quiet hymn of salt and rendered fat. The bacon-wrapped sirloin, which I usually avoid because bacon ruins more than it enhances, was fantastic. The picanha, which had once stood proudly alone, found itself among equals in a meat-based utopia. Roughly 30 minutes later, I turned my chip over to “you are entering the splash zone” and, possibly full forever, waited for someone to roll me home.
All in all: a worthy experience, especially with $8 glasses of wine and the knowledge that we have $300 more to burn before the meat gods close the portal once more.
best,
