Fazenda Rodizio Bar & Grill
Waterman's Place
3 Wharf Approach
Granary Wharf
Leeds
LS1 4GL
Website: http://www.fazenda.co.uk/leeds/
email: leeds@fazenda.co.uk
15th February 2014
The Salad Bar at Fazenda's
On a bitingly cold mid-February evening, the brave lasses of Leeds clip-clopped their way along Granary Wharf like well-turned out thoroughbreds. Bare flesh tempered with the latest fashions gave the evening a touch of glamour, as we made our way through the arches between Leeds Train Station and our destination, accompanied by the thunderous rumble of the swollen River Aire as it gushed beneath the bridges on its way to the aptly named village of Swillington and beyond.
Our journey was undertaken on the assurance that we were about to relish a dining experience of some quality and, by the end of the evening, one would find it hard to argue the case.
Having obtained our drinks from the bar, we sat in the waiting area taking in our surroundings and trying to anticipate how the experience would unfold. The booking was for 7.00pm and it was around that time we were led to our table.
Amidst a warm and friendly atmosphere, a Waiter was soon in attendance to explain how the Brazilian-style service worked. We were then shown the salad bar and left to our own devices. In accordance with the ‘Fat Lad’s Guide to Eat All You Can and Then Some’ (Section One - fillet or Kill it!) we were somewhat restrained in our salad selection. To turn rib eye steak away on the basis of having a bellyful of tomatoes and olives could only be described as a schoolboy error.
Our journey was undertaken on the assurance that we were about to relish a dining experience of some quality and, by the end of the evening, one would find it hard to argue the case.
Having obtained our drinks from the bar, we sat in the waiting area taking in our surroundings and trying to anticipate how the experience would unfold. The booking was for 7.00pm and it was around that time we were led to our table.
Amidst a warm and friendly atmosphere, a Waiter was soon in attendance to explain how the Brazilian-style service worked. We were then shown the salad bar and left to our own devices. In accordance with the ‘Fat Lad’s Guide to Eat All You Can and Then Some’ (Section One - fillet or Kill it!) we were somewhat restrained in our salad selection. To turn rib eye steak away on the basis of having a bellyful of tomatoes and olives could only be described as a schoolboy error.
At this point, it seems like a good idea to explain the
system. Once you are ready for the meats, you control the service with a
double-sided card placed on your table. The green side signals the ‘gaucho’
chefs to bring out skewers of sizzling meats one by one, while the red side
signals a stopping point. To resume the service, simply display the green side
again. Use the card to control the service to your own pace.
So, with our cards turned green-side up, there followed a procession of prime cut meats carved by Passadores or ‘Gaucho’ chefs. It was a veritable meat-fest; it was carnivore’s heaven; it was the throbbing, cholesterol-soaked heart of America, Italy, Portugal and Spain all rolled into one.
So, with our cards turned green-side up, there followed a procession of prime cut meats carved by Passadores or ‘Gaucho’ chefs. It was a veritable meat-fest; it was carnivore’s heaven; it was the throbbing, cholesterol-soaked heart of America, Italy, Portugal and Spain all rolled into one.
It would take too long to describe in detail every meat that I sampled on the night, but this gives you an idea of what I had.
Rump steak, gammon, pork belly, chicken thigh, fillet mignon, rib eye, sirloin, skirt, minted lamb and black pudding, as well as a small taste of hot king prawns, chicken heart and the traditional South American sausage, Linguiça, which is a form of smoke cured pork sausage seasoned with garlic and paprika.
My favourite cut was, undoubtedly, the fillet mignon. Surrendering to the blade of my knife, the dark blood seeped from its centre and onto my white, glazed plate like a pale-skinned maiden oozing blood from a vampiric wound; it really was that good.
My worst experience was the chicken heart. Small and rubbery, it put me in mind of a bush-tucker trial; sorry, not for me.
I would also take the time to mention that, towards the end of our gastronomic journey, a young man approached our table on several occasions to ask if we’d enjoyed our experience. He also asked if there were any particular meats we wanted back at our table (two as it happened, and both were promptly brought) and, as the essence of Valentine’s Day lingered, he delivered two roses to the ladies at our table. He was not only friendly, but attentive and so well mannered. It is those extra little touches that make a fabulous evening complete.
Rating out of 10: 9½
Would I go back? Você aposta seu bippy doce!
(You bet your sweet bippy!)
Rump steak, gammon, pork belly, chicken thigh, fillet mignon, rib eye, sirloin, skirt, minted lamb and black pudding, as well as a small taste of hot king prawns, chicken heart and the traditional South American sausage, Linguiça, which is a form of smoke cured pork sausage seasoned with garlic and paprika.
My favourite cut was, undoubtedly, the fillet mignon. Surrendering to the blade of my knife, the dark blood seeped from its centre and onto my white, glazed plate like a pale-skinned maiden oozing blood from a vampiric wound; it really was that good.
My worst experience was the chicken heart. Small and rubbery, it put me in mind of a bush-tucker trial; sorry, not for me.
I would also take the time to mention that, towards the end of our gastronomic journey, a young man approached our table on several occasions to ask if we’d enjoyed our experience. He also asked if there were any particular meats we wanted back at our table (two as it happened, and both were promptly brought) and, as the essence of Valentine’s Day lingered, he delivered two roses to the ladies at our table. He was not only friendly, but attentive and so well mannered. It is those extra little touches that make a fabulous evening complete.
Rating out of 10: 9½
Would I go back? Você aposta seu bippy doce!
(You bet your sweet bippy!)
