So, have you ever heard of this place called Texas de Brazil? They’ve got about a dozen of them open across the United States, but I hadn’t even heard of them until last year when my wife surprised me with a visit to one. Since then, it’s been love. Pure love. I’ll admit it, if Texas de Brazil was a woman, I’d leave my wife for her. Hell, if it was a dude, I’d probably leave my wife for him.
This is how it works: You show up and pay an ungodly amount of money to eat there; it’s like 45 dollars a person. The salad bar by itself is spectacular like someone took a weedwacker to The Garden of Eden just for you and put all of the delicious trimmings in glass bowls. They have three kinds of lettuce, actual bacon strips instead of bacon bits, and shit I have never fathomed before like goat cheese, lobster bisque, and balls of mozzarella cheese has big as your fist. However, as tempting as it is to just open your mouth and shove everything in at that moment, it would be a mistake. The true miracle of Texas de Brazil is still on its way.
You’re seated as privately as possible. Given that the restaurant is divided into a bunch of little rooms, this is pretty easy until the place gets packed. On your table, you are given a dish of plantains and a bowl of garlic mashed potatoes both of which are so good that even the most hardened skeptic will praise Jesus just for that alone.
Also on your table is a round card. One side is green, the other is red. You must keep this card visible at all times because this is where the true magic begins and, whenever I say it’s magic, I mean… it’s magic on up there with the birth of a child or seeing the Earth from orbit for the first time. As long as you have the green side of the card facing up, they bring you meat. Lots of meat. All kinds of meat. The best meat you’ve ever tasted and, I am not at all ashamed to tell you… I wanted to penetrate it. It was just that beautiful.
After about five minutes of green-carding, you will find yourself with helpings of flank steak, parmesan pork, lamb, filet mignon, sausage…
My eyes roll back into my head and I black out.
If you’ve ever had any idea of how much food you can possibly stuff into your own body, Texas de Brazil will shatter that illusion. I literally ate a whole fucking cow, two pigs, a half chicken, part of a lamb, and a passing pigeon. I should feel guilty after all, I’m already a fat fuck as it is, but I couldn’t be prouder of myself. Hell, I’m bragging right now. That’s what Texas de Brazil does for you, it makes you goddamn proud to be a carnivore. One of these days, I’m going to bring one of my gaunt little vegan friends to this place and watch them try and resist the delicious awesomeness of roasted flesh that is paraded in front of them.
Let’s get one thing straight before one of you dirty little nit-picking cocksuckers tries to accuse me. I am not getting paid by Texas de Brazil, I’m just in love with the restaurant and I want to see it survive. Thanks to the shitty economy, I’ve already lost the one Krispey Kreme in a hundred miles, I will not loose Texas de Brazil.