So there I was creeping through the town I made famous when I started to feel that familiar emptiness right underneath where my 8 minute abs would be, if I spent 8 minutes a day on them, but I digress.
I was on the east side of town conducting some quasi business errands that I am going to try and expense and write off my taxes for 2012 as I got thoroughly mugged by the fed and the great state of CA in 2011. I saw when I was driving by that there was a new sign that read Fogo de Chao where Bahama Breeze was the last time I was in the 702 sharing my love for Jesus and putting it down for the west side (the bestside).
Now I am not a wealthy man but through pinching my pennies, shrewd investments, and a 2 hour heater on the craps table the night before I was feeling like a million Argentine Pesos. So I decided to stroll in see what all the unnecessary punctuation in the name of the joint was all about.
I was only slightly put off by the fact that the valet seemed to have taken a smoke break or been called away on some urgent business because there was no one at the stand to toss the keys to the AMG to. I wasn't really in the mood to park my whip myself as I don't park so well when I am famished and let me tell you, I was hungry like a hostage. So I backed up the miracle whip and parked it where I could get out in a hurry should any shenanigans occur. I happen to know for a fact that 2pac got smoked just a block away and I am not trying to put my life in the hands of a degenerate, horse betting trauma surgeon at University Medical Center, nor do I want Deadmou5 or some other DJ trying to put my lyrics over some hastily crafted beats in some ill fated attempt to cash in on the rush of people to local record shops and itunes to purchase my last album.
As I crept inside there was some goofy looking white kid at the host stand spewing some garbage about how they do there last seating for lunch at 2pm. I glanced at the Swiss timepiece on my wrist and realized that 1) this is one ill watch, and 2) it was 2:06pm. As began to reach in my waist to pistol -whip this kid he blurted out,"let me check with the manager to see if we can still seat you".
He returned abruptly and gladly seated us. I was thankful I didn't have to chin check this kid in front of my 2 associates, as well as relieved that my belly would soon be soothed with the arrival of some delicious South American charred animals.
The server came over and greeted us very quickly offered us the wine list and had some drinks flowing pretty quickly. I strolled over to the salad bar where I was delighted to find a mixture of traditional salad bar type accoutrements as well as several other pleasant surprises. I sat down to get busy with my salad as a body like this doesn't happen on its own. It takes prayers, training, vitamins, healthy food choices, a bunch of extreme cardio, and a naturally athletic build that has been referred to as "the gift".
All the salad was delicious and I polished it off faster than Whitney Houston goes through her Xanax prescription. I turned over the little poker chip they give you that shows the Gouchos (the guys delivering meat on swords) that I was ready to start putting in work.
After about 6 guys showed up and sliced off delicious cuts of various chicken, pork, beef, and lamb, I was pretty full. Each of them were delectable and unique. I was feeling kind of full but we still had about 1/3 of a bottle of Opus One on the table and even though it was only the 1997, I wasn't prepared to leave it. As one little P.Y. T. came to clear scene of the carnage that was the plates in front of me and my distinguished guests, she ran down the list of desserts. I ordered some incarnation of a chocolate lava cake, my associates ordered the creme brulee and the espresso. All were very good and we were each satisfied. The dessert presentation was tasteful and elegant. When this chick stops blowing up my phone I will try to post a jpg. I need to delete some pics off this thing anyway before my part time lover sees them.
I should mention that the service was impeccable and at no time did I feel rushed, neglected, or what is my biggest pet peeve, hovered over. It was seamless and tactful.
When it was time to return some of the liquor from the night before into Lake Mead the restroom was very clean and it seemed like no one had made number 2 in there all week.
The place was surprisingly reasonable for what you get. Three for lunch with desserts was about $130 before you factor in the wine.
I left feeling satiated and relaxed. The only criticism I have of the place is that when I walked out to my car, there where a couple of chicken heads out there fussing with their hair in the reflection of my Benz. Listen here trick, go inside and use a mirror, not my pearl chariot.
Real talk. This place is good and you should check it out for yourself. Save some cash and go for lunch.