what's the most you've ever eaten... - Page 7

My Gaucho: Brazilian Steakhouse Experience.

We arrived at the restaurant at 11:07 for our 11:00 reservation. The place is desolate, save a few of the tables. The decor consists of dark carpeted floors, tasteful wooden furnishings, and a wooden ceiling complementing a warmly lit, capacious dining area. We are seated at our table, near the salad bard. Before I dive into the eating, let me explain how this place works. For 20$ lunch or 40$ dinner, you are entitled to an all you can eat, not-your-average salad bar complete with everything from little balls of mozzarella to soups with such complex names I don't care to spell them at this time, to artichoke hearts. This is then followed by the main course, a smattering for steaks, beefs, chickens, and more (15 in total). You have a token that says "No, thank you" on one side, and "Yes, please" on the other. When you are ready for meat, you flip the token to the Yes side. There are cycles of Brazilian men adorned in gaucho attire: loose, fancy black pants tucked into boots, topped by a loose white dress shirt. These cowboys then go from table to table with a saber of a given meat, which they will cut for you if you want some, which you then grab with your pair of tongs. Rinse and repeat till you explode.
Now on to the juicy stuff:
So I start off with the salad, crafting myself a classic caesar salad with romaine lettuce, caesar dressing, mozzarella cheese, and croûtons. I quickly inhale that scrumptious assortment of rabbit food and prepare myself for a man's meal. I start off conservatively, saving myself for my favorites: filet mignon, pork tenderloin, babyback ribs, and ribs. I soon learn this is a foolish error on my part for several reasons: I have the appetite of several grisly lumberjacks after a hard day's work, the servings are relatively small, and lastly you'd be a damned fool not to try every last one of these delectable slices of cooked muscle and fat. I believe I started off with some top and bottom sirloin. As these meats touched my palette, the anger of not being in Mexico momentarily left me. It was THAT good. I carefully ingested these fine pieces of meat, piece by piece, making them last. Soon the waitress brings a bowl of mashed potatoes. My kryptonite. I absolutely love a good helping of mashed potatoes. But these taters were crafted by no mere mortal. God himself poured a bit of his soul into this buttery, creamy concoction that melted my taste buds away. When mixed with my next round of meat, pork tenderloin topped with Parmesan cheese, my mouth had multiple orgasms. The explosion of juicy flavor combined with the smooth as silk mashed potatoes was almost too much to handle. Had there been no more, I could have cried, spit it out, and eaten it again just in hopes of experiencing it again. I realized I still had more meat and potatoes left, and simply repeated the eating. Next was Fillet Mignon wrapped in bacon. My favorite steak ever...wrapped in bacon. Oh lord, this will be good. As I slice the meat, blood pours out of this perfectly cooked piece of meat. I can hardly wait till the flavorful blood ravishes my tongue. Before my mouth even as the chance to envelop this meaty goodness, I can smell what is to come. I bite down into what can only be described as pure extacy. But that's not all. I keep chewing. And flavor keeps coming. I chew each piece for minutes, extracting every last bit of flavor. I'm scared to breathe, let alone open my mouth, for fear that some of this flavor might escape into undeserving air. I repeat this cycle over with more meats than I knew existed. Every single muscle of a cow or pig was available for my enjoyment. Over the next hour, my taste buds were assaulted with an assortment of the greatest meats ever cooked. Sadly, when it felt like every piece I ate was going to come back out, I knew it was time to let go. Quite possibly the most worth while 20 + tax/tip that I have ever spent, after the Starcraft Battle Chest.

In summary, all I have to say is vegetarians are missing part of their soul.