High steaks at Chima

By Tricia Childress
Visiting a Brazilian churrascaria takes preparation and diet-planning, I've been told by
veteran gorgers. A few days before the visit, food intake is restricted, and for days
afterwards, it's salads only. A churrascaria is an all-you-can-eat spot -- without the heat
lamps. If the quantity of food offered seems like an American Thanksgiving, it is meant
to be. The origin of the churrascaria in Brazil was to gather friends and family and give
thanks for nature's bounty.
In Portuguese, churrascaria means barbecue, and in southern Brazil's cowboy (pampas)
region, the method of cooking meat rotisserie style comes from the time the gauchos spit-
roasted meals on the open plains. Other South American countries, notably Argentina and
Uruguay, use this rotisserie style as well.
Charlotte's latest entry into this genre is Chima Brazilian Steakhouse, a 436-seat, two-
level atavistic forum. Vegetarians be warned: Skewered meat is paraded by costumed
gauchos throughout the vast dining room. At any given time, at any angle, men
brandishing meat can be seen. Chima is about hefty quantities of food, and the
testosterone level in the room is palpable. Groups of men cluster at tables throughout a
room gorgeously vast, dark and noisy. The two-story entrance has both a curved staircase
and an elevator to the second level, which has a bar area in the front and a private dining
area in the rear.
In the center of Chima's main dining room is the sneeze-guarded salad bar. The best of
dishes are the Italian-styled salamis and the feijoada, a Brazilian black bean stew served
over white rice and sprinkled with farofa, a toasted mixture of yucca flour that tastes
similar to spicy breadcrumbs (but here not served with the traditional orange segments).
Cold items on the salad bar include spears of hearts of palm; Caesar, caprese, shrimp and
Waldorf salads; gelatinous blue cheese mousse and corn mousse; and a Brazilian take on
tabbouleh (an item never meant to sit around on a salad bar). A couple of soups complete
the first round. But this plain-tasting, often bland salad bar is, perhaps, designed to
counterbalance the saltiness of the meat.
Salt is part of the taste profile of the rodizio -- the real show. White-shirted gauchos
parade through the room with large knives and long skewers -- almost swords -- piled
high with meat. If any of the Chima discs at your table are flipped to the orange side, the
idea is "Yes, please," and a server stops by the table and cuts off portions. The black
reverse side says, "No, thank you."
Beef sausage, pork loin with parmesan cheese, pork ribs, chicken with bacon, flank steak
and beef ribs arrive. More come. In all, 15 skewers are brought out. One server has
overcooked swordfish and salmon. We waited for a second round of fish, but this
swordfish was also overcooked as well. There is lamb, too, both leg and chop. We
requested the native beef cuts -- the picanha and the picanha nobre -- which eventually
found our table, but these were exceptionally salty. Oddly, many of these meats tasted the
same: overcooked and salty.
Meanwhile on the table were plates of miniature cheese puffs served with a smoked
turkey spread and sauted plantains -- my favorite bites while here. At one point, salad
plates were stacked up on our table, and we seemed destined to wipe off cutlery to reuse
since service was haphazard. While not many stay for dessert, Chima's offers a mango
sorbet and a passion fruit mousse. True gamers skip both the salad bar and the final
course to concentrate on the meat.
Chima's international wine list features South American wines -- even Brazilian wines.
For cocktail drinkers, there is the caipirinha, a potent drink made with cachaa, a sugar
cane spirit. Chima is named for chimarrao, another Brazilian drink.
This is the fifth U.S. location of Chima, which first opened in 2003. Bruno Silva is the
owner and managing partner of all Chima locations, including the original restaurant in
Fort Lauderdale, Fla., and the stores in Tysons Corner, Va., Atlanta and Philadelphia.
Churrascarias are typically fixed price. At Chima the cost is $49.50 per person. Add a
bottle of wine, tax and gratuity and an evening can easily reach $175 per couple.
Currently, Chima is offering a price reduction, which was slated to end in December but
is now continuing through the winter, of $39.50 per person. There are $25 coupons online
(if you sign up for their e-mail list). Some $25 coupons were sent in the mail, but these
cannot be used with the $39.50 price -- and two must order full-priced meals for a
reduction -- so it's really $5 off the going rate.