This past weekend, the family and I packed up the car and headed down to Myrtle Beach for a quick getaway. Sarah’s uncle surprised us over the holidays with two nights scheduled for Jan. 16-17 at an ocean-front resort.
With way too much luggage in hand, we hit the open road for a weekend of commercialism at its finest. Thankfully, our son Grayson brought along a few friends for his personal entertainment (His grandparents: A.K.A.: The Babysitters Club).
It quickly became apparent that my wife enjoys outlet shopping in freezing temperatures. Yes, Myrtle Beach this time of year is absolutely breathtaking. Clearance tags bloom on nearly every clothing rack, and the smell of burnt Cinnabon rejects fills the air.
We spent nearly five frigid hours (against my will) roaming an outdoor mall the size of a small wasteland. When the day from retail hell finally came to an end, I was weary, cold and hungry. After all, we had watched the sun rise through Old Navy’s tinted windows and welcomed evening beneath the techno-flashing lights of Aeropostale.
With rain pelting our heads, we decided to ditch the shopping bags and get some dinner. We picked a place by the name of Rioz, a “Brazilian Steakhouse.” I had never been to this particular restaurant, but heard it was quite the meat Mecca. Now I apologize up front to my vegetarian friends: I have let you down.
The Rioz menu showcases 15 different cuts of meat, each cooked over a wood fire and served to patrons in unlimited quantities. It seemed that nearly every minute, a new selection came out of the kitchen. I’ve never been force fed, but I imagine this is pretty much what it would be like.
Specifically, the restaurant employs a number of wait staff members, each loyal to a certain type of meat. What a concept! They served every savory piece on sword-like skewers, carving them tableside. As they carted out the beef ribs, a greasy tear rolled down my cheek. I was home.
About halfway through the meal, I welled up with emotion – or maybe it was severe heartburn. Either way, the sheer harmony of the entire operation was inspiring. Chicken wrapped in bacon, filet mignon, lamb chops, pork tenderloin – all of my vices plated up on a second-by-second basis. Dinner soon became sport. Would I finish the leg of lamb before the beef brisket arrived? Would I have enough room on my dish for mashed potatoes? I could not contain my enthusiasm or my determination. At one point, I glanced over at Sarah to celebrate this great moment in our relationship. However, she seemed somewhat ashamed at me. I believe her exact words were something like, “You don’t need anymore damn meat.”
After eating the 13th selection, my stomach started making noises that appeared to frighten our young son. As this one-time dream quickly morphed into a nightmare, I knew it was time to put down the fork.
The next day, after the abdominal aches subsided, I looked back at our wonderful evening at Rioz. The sights, the sounds, the deep-fried corn sticks – this truly was the perfect steakhouse.
We left Myrtle Beach on Sunday, but not before driving past the restaurant one last time. I thought about the time when I choked a little on grizzle – ohhhh what a fun night. I recalled the smiling faces of the Brazilian waiters: “Slice, yes?”
Yes, Yes In Deed!
I end by recommending Rioz to anyone who likes good food in large quantities. No, they are not a client of Bon’s Eye Marketing, but I wish they were. I’d even consider a trade.
By Steve
