The meat coma

When the cold has reached the deep recesses of your bones, what could be better than an endless supply of red meat for insulation. Well, fleece works, wool’s pretty unflappable and down’s downright impervious, but they don’t seem to go very well with the scintillating house red!

Since the wind chill yesterday hit below zero, we needed no further coaxing. Planned a trip to the local Brazilian rodizio where servers come to the table armed with different cuts of meat on a skewer. And just when you think it couldn’t get any better, they slice out a mouth-watering piece of just the right cut, done to just the right degree.

Filet mignon, pork ribs, lamb chops, tender sirloin, chicken wrapped in crispy bacon, the works. And if you tired of the meat (god forbid!), there’s always the salad bar to rummage in, not to mention a generous helping of sides. Though I must say it was hard to tell the plantains from the peppers after gorging on all the heavy fare – meat coma, I think they call it.

But that’s the good kind, if ever there was one....

Fogo de Chao -- hands down, best churrascaria in Philly