Fogo de Chão - Irvine

Fogo de Chão isn't the biggest churrascaria chain in America. Texas de Brazil beats it by 15 with 57 units across the country as of this writing. Fogo de Chão also isn't the first churrascaria chain to debut in the U.S. either. Rodizio Grill claimed that title when it started in 1995 in Denver. But it's likely that even if you've never been to Fogo de Chão, you might already regard the brand as though it was the Ruth's Chris Steakhouse in a sea of Outbacks. Its expansion into key markets like Houston, Atlanta, Chicago, Washington, and especially Beverly Hills, burnished its reputation as the "fancy" churrascaria chain.

Upgrading the churrascaria is how Fogo de Chão started forty years ago in Brazil. In 1979 two brothers decided to take this backcountry concept of all-you-can-eat meat served by roving gauchos and turned it into a fine dining experience. They catered their first restaurant to the businessmen and fashionable types in São Paulo. The rest is history.

Last month, Fogo de Chão finally expanded into Orange County when it opened in Irvine, a city that had long been the turf of Agora Churrascaria until Texas de Brazil moved into town in 2016. That year I wrote a mixed review of Texas de Brazil, noting inconsistencies in the meat that seemed to get more noticeable the fuller I got.

To put it simply, Texas de Brazil did not convince me that a corporate outfit could do churrasco better than an independent like Agora. But with its sterling reputation, I went to the new Fogo de Chão hoping it would change my mind. Yet the impression I got after dining there was the same as my trip to Texas de Brazil. I came away with a distended tummy, a huge debt on my credit card, and a still unshaken belief that I would’ve been happier going to a traditional steakhouse.

It's not that I couldn’t have treated it like it was a Mastro's or a Fleming's. Fogo de Chão actually has a non-all-you-can-eat option where you could conceivably order steak, chicken, lamb, salmon and sea bass a la carte.

But to go to a churrascaria without doing the all-you-can-eat rodizio will feel as pointless as a trip to Disneyland without going on the rides. And unlike Texas de Brazil and Agora, Fogo de Chão offers different tiered pricing for its rodizio that range from $54 for the basic "Brazilian Cuts" to $125 for a meal that involves Wagyu beef sirloin.

I'd advise against the latter unless you possess a limitless appetite and a limitless bank account. Modest eaters on a budget should keep it simple with the lowest priced option. Let's face it: When it comes to all-you-can-eat anything, your enjoyment will only hold up until the law of diminishing returns kicks in. And when what you’re binging is meat, you'll reach that point at a churrascaria sooner than at any other type of buffet.

My night started promisingly with the picanha, a fat-rimmed, C-shaped sirloin cap that's always the most enjoyable cut you could have at a Brazilian steakhouse. Balanced between its char, salt, fat and ruby-red flesh, the picanha was the slice that whetted my appetite for more meat, more fat, more pieces of cow. Unfortunately, the picanha-wielding gaucho would never come around again, and the more I ate of the other lesser and chewier cuts that came in its stead, such the Alcatra (top sirloin) and Fraldinha (bottom sirloin) the more I realized I was filling precious stomach space with meat I wasn't particularly enjoying.

It continued that way the rest of the evening. For every juicy parmesan crusted pork loin and crusty slices of lamb, there was a mealy bacon-wrapped sirloin, a gristly garlic steak, and chicken breast so dry it turned to dust. By the time the pork ribs came around, served with a lime wedge, I couldn't bite off more than a nibble.

I probably should’ve gone easy on the feijoada and rice, which is essential to the Brazilian food experience but ultimately just filler when you're trying to recoup the admission cost. And I probably should have skipped the salad bar’s marinated vegetables and stopped after the first round of the brown-sugar-glazed bacon--the second batch the kitchen put out was burnt so badly it didn't just taste like charcoal, it was charcoal. Thankfully the mashed potatoes brought out by my server, who disappeared for most of the night, had already cooled to a solid block by the time the first gaucho arrived--so it was easy to pass on.

The pao de quiejo, however, were another matter. Perhaps more than the picanha, these cheese bread balls--here resembling tiny popovers--have been and always will be a churrascaria favorite of mine.

And when the empty basket was finally refilled after my repeated requests, I ate them with gusto disregarding the fact that they’re an insurance policy the restaurant took out to ensure its profits stay in the black--a buffer against the insatiable meat eaters who might enjoy Fogo de Chão more than I did.

Fogo de Chão
623 Spectrum Center Dr
Irvine, CA 92618
949) 398-1500
https://fogodechao.com