Food a flop but dancer dazzles at Churrascaria

By John Aglionby

JAKARTA (JP): Cynics would argue there is no need for anything Brazilian in Indonesia. After all, what the South American country is famous for -- dense jungle, shanties sprawled around towering skyscrapers, and white-sand beaches dotted with nubile young women -- can be found here.

Okay, so the above list is simplistic and should include erotic dancing, Brazil nuts, coffee and a huge national debt, but what is not at the top, or even in the top 10, of any list, would be unforgettable cuisine.

So a Brazilian restaurant opening in Jakarta, where there is much mediocrity and few gastronomic Xanadus, has an immediate curiosity value.

Unfortunately Churrascaria, buried in the bare Bank Exim tower on Jl. Gatot Subroto, rarely rises above the respectable and never touches the heights one might hope for.

Pronounced Shu-has-ca-reeah, this franchise of a South Brazilian chain is more than a Sizzler of Sao Paulo, but not a lot.

First impressions count for a great deal and the artificial palm trees, variety of seating packed close together, walls that appear half built and twinkling lights peering through a canopy of plastic foliage seemed to lack a coherent approach. Had the owners acquired a job lot of kitsch interior fittings from a second-hand charity sale?

The menu did not inspire confidence either. It was hard to work out exactly what food would be served and the cocktails' names ranged from the tacky -- Amazombie -- to the sublime -- Piranha Colada.

But it cannot be denied that they were among the best in Jakarta. Some people may find them a little sweet but, served in funky glasses, they packed a hefty punch and tasted of what they claimed to be, which was a refreshing change.

Taken as a whole though, the food that followed was a real let down. There appeared to be no choice; one had to have the buffet accompanied by the Rodizio, a selection of 12 meats carved at your table.

The highlight of the buffet was the beef and red bean soup. Consisting of good chunks of meat and tasty beans it was tempting to go back for seconds and thirds. Otherwise there was little to write home about; the spaghetti seemed Italian, the french fries international and the prawn cakes unremarkable.

What is more there were no green vegetables and even Pizza Hut would be embarrassed by the standard of the salad bar.

The meats -- that came from the United States -- were delicious but one can only take so much of a good thing. It is a bit like eating 12 different Haagen-Dazs helpings; the first few are fantastic, the next couple are a struggle and the final few have to be discarded by all but the greediest gluttons.

After such a heavy onslaught there was little room for desert, although I would not recommend saving space for one unless you have a penchant for bland and boring sweet food.

At 9:30 p.m. a Brazilian band came on and boy were they needed. The atmosphere was on its last legs, given a reprieve when the children at a birthday party refused to eat their food and ran round the restaurant chased by a babysitter armed with a spoonful of spaghetti.

After one or two questionable early numbers, the band turned out to be very good indeed, although the audience of sated diners unfortunately rarely responded beyond giving gentle applause. With a sizable percussion section giving an extra oomph to the beat, the music almost dragged people onto the floor.

And for the more reticent among the audience help was provided by a lusciously curvaceous dancer whose costumes became satisfyingly skimpier and skimpier as the evening wore on.

With battery-boosted buttocks and a turbo-charged tummy button, she writhed around the tables, picking on victims to feast on under the bright lights of the dance floor -- a memorable end to a disappointing evening.