Texas de Brazil

Las Vegas, bless its heart, loves a buffet.

That's what came to mind when we saw the crowds at Texas de Brazil early on a weeknight.

You have to remember I eat out rather often, and it has been the norm lately to feel a pang when entering some of the better restaurants in the valley -- most of them independents, but a few chains, too -- and finding them empty or nearly so. I used to routinely make reservations and hated going to those restaurants that didn't accept them, but I probably haven't made one in six months, and that includes for restaurants on the Strip.

Yet here was a packed Texas de Brazil, and that was shocking in another way. The place isn't brand-spankin' new, having opened in September. Town Square has been home to some busy restaurants, but also to some that languished. The churrascaria concept isn't novel; this is at least the fourth or fifth of the type we've had in the valley, and at least one failed. And at $44.99 per person, it's far from a budget proposition in these trying times.

Ah, but it is all-you-can-eat. That's not a big draw for us, but apparently we're in the minority.

At any rate, we approached the hostess stand, said we didn't have a reservation and asked how long the wait would be. Thirty minutes, we were told. We shrugged, 30 minutes being no big deal, and decamped to the lounge, where we would each enjoy one of the restaurant's caipirinhas, a refreshing, Brazilian-style cocktail.

Here I'll provide a refresher on the nature of the wait list, and routine restaurant management practices. If a restaurant thinks the wait will be 20 minutes, it'll tell you 30 or more, depending on the place. Everybody likes to be called early and nobody likes to be called late. It's just common sense.

So after 45 minutes at Texas de Brazil we decided to check in. Fifteen more minutes, we were told.

After an hour and 15 minutes, we checked in again. Another 15 minutes, they said.

Finally, after a wait of an hour and a half -- fully three times what we had been told it would be -- a hostess came to get us. And led us to a table whose seating literally overlapped the hostess-station area, with the lobby where literally dozens of people were milling just steps beyond. Not only did we not want that table, that table shouldn't even be there.

Uh, could we possibly get another table? She basically glared at us and departed, returning a few minutes later to inform us with a sweet smile that it would be another 20 minutes.

Unless I wanted to talk to a manager, she said, looking me straight in the eye.

Well, yes, I said, wondering why I hadn't already done that.

She looked at me.

Yes, I said again.

So again she took off, returning in a few minutes with the general manager, who took us to a table while offering apologies. They were just swamped with reservations, he said.

OK, so why accept walk-ins? We gladly would've returned on a different evening if we'd been told the wait would be 90 minutes instead of 30, and we would've been happier, to boot.

Or maybe they took too many reservations. One of our favorite local restaurants splits its tables between reservations and walk-ins, cutting off either or both when the numbers get too high. That's common sense, too.

But here's the thing: Texas de Brazil isn't, as I noted, brand new (and if this is the situation on a weeknight, what the hell happens on weekends?). And it's a chain, which means there are MBAs in a corner office somewhere, figuring all this stuff out. If those MBAs can commission plastic models of their desserts, I think they can figure out the seating thing.

To his credit, the GM handled the situation well, which is the only reason they're not getting an F for service. He checked back with us to be sure we were OK (we were) and offering us dessert (we declined), even if we wanted to take it to go (we still declined). On the other hand, while it was a nice gesture for him to hand out free samples to the waiting crowd, he probably would've been better served riding herd on the hostess desk.

Our waitress was fine, too, as were most of the guys bearing swords filled with grilled meat. When we realized we'd missed the Parmesan-crusted pork loin, for example, we asked another sword-bearer to send the pork guy our way, and lo and behold, he did.

We liked the food for the most part, too. The extensive salad/vegetable buffet had some sort of odd offerings and quite a few that were unmarked or ambiguously so, but most of what we had was pretty good. We also loved the little cheese-filled rolls.

As for the meats, the selection was better than at many churrascarias, including both lamb chops and leg of lamb. One rule of thumb to remember is that if you like your meat rare, you'll have better luck asking for it sliced from the larger pieces of meat, since the smaller chunks tended to be dried out, marinade or not.

As for us, we'll remember that that $45 can get us a pretty decent dinner at some of the better restaurants around town.

As for Texas de Brazil, I offer some free advice: If you don't have MBAs figuring this stuff out, hire some.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@reviewjournal.com.