Mucho carne!

Ipanema

by Margaret LeRoux

Ipanema 106 Southville Road Southboro (508) 460-6144 Hours Wed.-Fri. 5-10 p.m. Sat.-Sun. noon-10 p.m. Full bar Major credit cards handicap accessible

It was supposed to be a simple dinner with good friends. Instead, this week's review included an unexpected snowstorm, a power outage that plunged the restaurant into darkness, and a language barriers that added a sense of mystery to what my companions and I were eating.

It all started with the memory of a meal a friend and I had eaten at the Ipanema restaurant in Southboro several years ago. We tried the churrasco rodizo, their version of the traditional Brazilian barbecue, churrascaria. This means a seemingly endless procession of grilled beef, pork, chicken, and sausages on giant skewers brought to the table by smiling waiters who carve off big hunks and serve you, returning with more before you can finish. It's nirvana for anyone on a high protein diet. But the two of us were totally defeated by the volume; we imagined the waiters smirking and whispering, "amateurs," as we retreated to the parking lot.

This time we were determined to conquer the churrasco, so we invited two no-nonsense, meat and potato eaters to join us. Even though the snow was falling and the roads were a bit slick, we were undeterred. The four of us arrived shortly before 7 p.m. to a practically empty restaurant.

One of my companions suddenly remembered that dinner in South American countries is eaten considerably later than in most North American restaurants. There was only a group of three computer programmers noisily discussing their work in the middle of the room, so were amused when the hostess asked if we had a reservation. Fortunately, we did.

Ipanema's forte is certainly not its décor which features wood paneling on the walls and sound absorbing ceiling tiles of the kind favored in basement rec rooms of the 60s and 70s. Sturdy pine chairs and tables for four fill the room; a smoky bar is in a separate room in the back. The two waiters were pleasant, though their English wasn't up to detailed explanations of the menu.

We started with an appetizer called carne de sol cam mandioca ($6.95). This was a heaping platter of cubed, grilled, salty tasting beef and fried cassava root, two main ingredients which repeated themselves in many different guises throughout the meal. Cassava, a black gnarly root, was the staple of the Indian diet in Brazil; centuries later its influences still dominate the country's cuisine. Here, cassava is cubed, boiled, then deep fried, tasting like thick french fries when hot. But as they cooled, the cassava cubes became more chewy than potatoes. We liked them dipped in the ketchup our waiter delivered to the table, though we figured this was a concession to American tastes.

Other appetizers were variations on the meat and cassava theme: a platter of linguica -- spicy sausage -- and mandioca ($6.95) and picadinho ($7.95), described as sliced meat, pork, sausage and shrimp in hot sauce.

Two of my friends drank beer (Corona, $4.50) and Michelob draft ($2.50), which proved to be thirst quenching. We found the meat and sausage to be pretty salty, though certainly flavorful. The other two of us chose glasses of Kendall Jackson chardonnay ($4.25) and merlot ($4.75).

My dinner selection was muqueca de peixe ($14.95) a stew of halibut and shrimp with thinly sliced onions, garlic, peppers, chopped tomatoes. It was served boiling hot in a pretty earthenware pot along with a dish of pureed cassava -- it looked and tasted like the cream of wheat my mother used to make for breakfast -- to thicken the stew. Once it cooled a bit, the stew was delightful, the halibut very fresh, tender, and delicately spiced. I thought I tasted cilantro and a dash of lime juice

One of my companions ordered tutu a mineira ($10.95), described as a traditional dish of pork loin with rice, black beans and collard greens. The pork was roasted and seasoned lightly -- again, salty seems the best description -- in contrast to the beans which were very bland. The collard greens were sliced very fine; their slightly bitter flavor was a good accent.

The third member of our group tried to play it safe with grilled breast of chicken ($9.95) served with another style of beans, this time soupy and reminiscent of my grandmother's baked beans. Rice and a mixture of peas, carrots and cassava grains -- our waiter described them as farina -- were accompaniments.

My other friend, whose rail-thin physique masks the appetite of a lumberjack, eagerly volunteered to try the churrasco ($16.95). Just as the waiter was bringing forth the first big skewer of roast beef, however, the wind outside suddenly picked up and the lights went out. By this time there were several more groups of diners; all conversation ceased as we waited to see what the staff would do. A couple of emergency lights provided a dim glow and when one of my friends requested a candle, our waiter brought one from the kitchen. But not all diners were assertive; most, strangely, finished their meal in relative darkness. At our table there was a lot of meat to be eaten, however, and we wanted to see it.

The first skewer was roast beef, followed by sausage, then beef ribs, next smoked pork, then steak, chicken, and more pork. The pile on my friend's plate grew and she began to be more generous with samples for the rest of us. By the time the waiter came round with more sausage, even she was overwhelmed and cried, "no more."

Churrasco includes a trip to the salad bar -- lots of fresh greens, sliced tomatoes cucumbers and extras like beets -- and dessert bar: canned mixed fruit, Jello and a mousse-like chocolate confection. We also shared a serving of pudim, ($2.50) a Brazilian variation on flan. As we sampled desserts, the lights came on again; our adventure in dining had a bright ending. The four of us were sated for $89 before tip.

Margaret LeRoux can be reached at
feedmefeedback@hotmail.com.

Margaret LeRoux can be reached at feedmefeedback@hotmail.com.