Pleasures Of The Flesh In South America

All through the continent, meat is king. But the dual capitals of the carnivore are Rio de Janeiro in Brazil and Buenos Aires in Argentina.

There's still a place on the planet where cholesterol is king and meals mean meat, meat, meat.

Where steaks are the size of pot roasts and you have to request - no, demand - that the waiters halt the endless servings of meat.

Where you'll be served meat at breakfast, meat at lunch and meat at dinner - starting with a meat appetizer before your main course of really, really big meat.

For the meat lover, it's heaven. For the vegetarian - welcome to hell.

All through South America, meat is king. But the dual capitals of the carnivore are Rio de Janeiro in Brazil and Buenos Aires in Argentina.

Rodizio is Rio

In Rio, the main attraction is a culinary circus called the rodizio. For a set price - usually about $25 - you belly up to an all-you-can-eat extravaganza unseen anywhere else in the world.

You are swiftly seated, and the waiter (rodizios' staff members are almost exclusively guys - a meat thing, I guess) gives you a two-sided sign to place on the edge of your table.

The waiter turns it so that a green square is showing with the words "RODIZIO CONSTANTE" - which, roughly translated, means "nonstop meat."

Your table becomes the center of a flurry of muscular men carrying huge spears of meat. One stops for a second, deftly depositing the roasted cargo on your plate, before stepping back, and another steps up with a different meat.

For the next 20 minutes or so, you're assaulted by a seemingly endless stream of chorizo, pork chops, lamb chops, steak, roast, livers and kidneys. Each offering would be a main course elsewhere in the world, but here it's just one of many slabs on your plate.

Sure, there's the occasional waiter with smoked salmon or chicken or even some side dishes such as potatoes or green beans. But they are only for those too guilty or wimpy to indulge in a pork and beef bacchanalia.

Only when your belly is ready to burst and your arteries threaten to snap shut does someone at the table break through the endorphin stupor to turn the sign to the red square.

"NO RODIZIO" it reads. The waiters stop dead in their tracks and go off to attack a freshly arrived group.

Meat as myth

Brazilians may like the flurry of a rodizio, but the more reserved Argentines prefer a sedate method of indulging in beefy bliss.

Beef is wrapped up in the mythology of the country - the vast stretches of pampas where the great estates - las estancias - were the basis of Argentine wealth and culture.

Unlike North Americans, who like their meat cut into parts that no longer resemble their origin and packaged in sterile wrap, the Argentines revel in the fact that they are eating dead animals.

The entrances to many steakhouses are built around huge, open barbecue pits, where skinned, gutted and splayed cows and lambs on racks and spits slowly roast away.

Nearly all the great beef restaurants of Buenos Aires display a countrified motif of the Pampas: cowhide-covered chairs, waiters in gaucho garb, and artifacts of the ranchero hanging on the walls.

Then comes the food. For starters? How about meat? Chorizo or fried kidneys. Lovers of cooked organ meat can order a paradilla - a massive mixed grill that includes just about every imaginable combination of meats, sausages and organs.

But most beefophiles come for cooked organ meat can order a paradilla - a massive mixed grill that includes just about every imaginable combination of meats, sausages and organs.

But most beefophiles come for the main attraction - huge steaks. Every kind of cut is available, with names such as beef de lomo, beef de chorizo and the massive, pot roast-size baby beef.

Uncommonly rare

Argentines like their steaks medium-well or even well-done.

"To ask for a rare steak is to tell the cook not to prepare it - it's an insult to them," businessman Carlos Andreas said over dinner one night at the La Estancia steakhouse.

It's not hard to order. With the longtime British influence in play, many Argentine waiters speak English. They'll help English-speaking guests make their way through the menu, picking steaks that are closest to familiar cuts, such as porterhouse or New York strip. Though they may pout a bit, they'll even let you order it rare if you must.

High-stakes dining

One evening at La Estancia, a long table was given over to an American tour group whose members weren't quite sure if they wanted to be there.

"There's no way I am going to eat that much meat - though I hate to admit that it does smell really good," said a watch-your-diet 40-ish woman in a T-shirt from Jamesons-By-The-Sea fish restaurant in Hawaii.

The waiter was unfazed, suggesting that the woman and her boyfriend share the smallest steak on the menu. Which they then devoured.

When another tourist bent on trying his Spanish requested "uh . . . sauce roja . . . tomate," the waiter quickly said, "You want me to bring you some ketchup, yes?"

Someday, Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Aires may catch up with the rest of the world and discover a balanced diet.

But for now, the nutritional pyramid is in the long shadow of the temples of meat. ------------------------------- IF YOU GO

Hot spots for meat eaters in South America

Rio de Janeiro

-- Marius, Av. Atlantica 290A, Leme, 021-542-2392. Excellent rodizio near Copacabana Beach.

-- Porcao, Rua Barao da Torre 218, Ipanema, 021-521-0999. Wild and wildly popular rodizio just off the famous Ipanema beach strip.

Buenos Aires

-- Las Nazarenas, Calle Reconquista 1132, downtown, 1-312-5559. Pretty, tranquil traditional steakhouse near the Sheraton.

-- La Caballeriza, Calle Dordo Rocha 1740, Martinez. 1-717-1085. Classic grill in converted racing stable. A bit far from the tourist area but has an excellent second site at the popular Puerto Modero development downtown.

-- La Estancia, Lavalle 941 (no phone). Least-expensive of the top-notch steakhouses, it's a short walk from the famous Calle Florida pedestrian mall.