I just returned from a second visit to my new favorite local eatery. It's a Brazilian grill (Rio, on the Ave, for any Seattle locals), which is to say, it's where good little carnivores go when they die. The all-you-can-eat buffet, a concept so divine as to secure its inventor a seat at the head of the heavenly table, has been impossibly improved by the most simple of ideas.
The food comes to you.
No more lulls in the digestive process while you drag yourself away from your table, stagger over to the buffet, and dirty yet another plate with sneeze-guard-protected vittles. While you and your companions pass around an assortment of simple yet delicious side dishes, a parade of servers visit your table. Each offers a sword-like skewer for your approval, sliding a morsel or two onto your plate at your merest nod. Grilled pineapple, mushrooms, assorted veggies, corn on the cob, bacon-wrapped turkey breast, pepper steak, chicken, shrimp, sausage... you'll want to shout "huzzah!" and pour mead on the court jester. Upon sampling the tri-tip steak, sliced off the skewer to your specifications, your eyes will roll so far back you'll see the pleasure centers of your brain doing the samba.
All of life should be like this. I want an endless stream of people walking past my door, offering services throughout the day. "Out of toilet paper, mister?" "Chevron Man-- I'm here to top off your tank." "You look tense, sir. Massage?" After all, they say life's a buffet. I want mine to be Brazilian.
Posted by Peter at March 26, 2003 9:35 PM