Fogo de Chão Restaurant: Grumpy Gauchos
661 N La Salle Drive
312/932.9330
Fogo de Chão means "fire in the earth." The name seemed as captivating and sultry as the open fire smoldering in the eatery’s window that fronts La Salle Street in Chicago’s trendy River North district. I had heard about the unique all-you-can-eat-meat churrascaria-style dining experience, and I thought that it would provide a bit of fun for my visiting niece as well as the accompanying adults.
Visible from a distance, the 35-foot blue smokestack marks the 250-seat Chicago Fogo de Chão. Opening in late 2002, it is the fourth in the U.S., migrating via Texas from Rio Grande de Sul in Southern Brazil. Stepping inside, stone, rustic metal, and wood used in the interior details suggest the rugged terrain of rural Brazil but conveyed a noticeable absence of elegant softness to pamper the diner. The only apparent elegance was the huge featured wine-cellar. The dining rooms were spaciously arranged to let the gauchos move freely with their skewers of meat. But this abundant space only imparted a barn-like ambiance and an acoustical nightmare for conversation, not the luxury that was perhaps intended.
Arriving early for our reservation, we headed to the bar for a caipirinha, the national drink of Brazil. This is a potent combination of crushed limes, sugar, and cachaca, (rum distilled from sugarcane) and tastes like a cross between a killer margarita and a very powerful mojito. My guess is that a caipirinha hangover would be murder.
The gimmick of Fogo de Chão is that the meat is carved tableside from giant spits by specially trained, knife-wielding carvers/waiters in gaucho attire. You are supposed to be able to control their service with a small green- and red-sided chip. The green side reads Sim por favor (Yes, please); the red side says Não obrigado (No, thank you). It seemed to be a good concept in theory.
After the glum waiter explained the rules of the chip, we began our experience at an enormous salad bar with a dizzying but attractive array of fresh greens, vegetables, cheeses, shrimp, and salmon. This is not a place for vegetarians. The minute I took my last bite of arugula, the gaucho-garbed cutter guys started to arrive. The cutters are endlessly circling men with skewers of roasted meat and very large knives. The gauchos come by every two minutes or so asking if you would like a slice of a filet, sirloin, lamb leg, chicken, parmesan-encrusted pork, or a linguica sausage. The meat-gauchos were supposed to come only if our coaster was green. But we apparently were served by the color-blind Brazilian cowboys, and the experience felt more like a siege than attentive service.
I will admit that the meats were flame-char tasty. But for the most part, were too chewy, greasy, and/or well-done. The filet mignon barely resembled a premium cow-cut, and all the meat that hit our plates was cooked, but tepid. With all that freshly-skewered meat going around, you would think that some of it would have arrived warm. The accompanying side dishes were fried polenta (bland and dry), mashed potatoes (quite unremarkable), and fried bananas (a too-sweet excess).
The wine list was a heavy cloth-bound tome. Its extensive weight is reflected in the highly visible, award-winning wine cellar, the pride of manager Sidiclei Demartini. There are some nice robust reds from Chile, Argentina, and Australia to go with all that red meat. But by the bottle or glass (cheapest by-glass is $12), the wines are overpriced, even for this trendy area of Chicago. I am certain that the showy, but quite lovely wood- and glass-encrusted wine repository had something to do with the inflated prices.
The desserts are an additional cost and disappointingly ordinary. The exotic sounding house special, Papaya Crème, was mundane; a melted peach-not-papaya tasting ice cream with a dash of cassis. Amélie made a better choice, opting for scoops of coconut and chocolate gelato. Other sweets were flan, crème brulee, and flavored cheese cakes.
The wait staff were not the fun-folks (or even very solicitous) as promised. We felt rushed during a non-crowded Thursday evening. And I don’t know if it was part of the gaucho code, or just a bad day on the pampas, but all of our waiters wore expressions as droopy as their chinos.
A trip to the enormous salad bar and all-you-can-eat meats cost $50 per person for dinner and $25 for lunch (not counting any beverages, desert, tax, or tip). Valet parking however IS a good value at $10 plus tip.
My experience in this establishment finds an overdone concept. If Fogo de Chão means fire in the earth, I think that the fire is a liar. This restaurant caters to conspicuous over-consumption, overeaters, or perhaps people who are on Atkins. Food doesn’t beguile you here, it assaults you. For the price, I sought delight and circuses, but would have settled for better food and fun. Being oblivious to the faults that the adults noted, my niece Amélie seemed to enjoy her experience. She delighted in the costumed gauchos; (and trying to make them smile); the huge salad bar; and the noisy, busy atmosphere. And to be honest, her delight was the reason I came here in the first place.