The Gospel of Meat: A Night of Excess at Fogo de Chão
If ever there were a place where the gods of fire and flesh convened, it would be Fogo de Chão at the Wharf, which opened with all the pageantry and brazenness you’d expect from a steakhouse that turns every meal into a bacchanalian feast. On a brisk Thursday evening—November 21st, 6:30 p.m. sharp—the restaurant welcomed a mix of dignitaries, food critics, and unrepentant carnivores for its VIP dinner. And I, dear reader, was among them.
The evening started in the bar with freshly made caipirinhas, a Brazilian cocktail made with cachaça (sugarcane hard liquor), sugar, lime, and ice. The room itself was alive, pulsing with energy as if the building knew it was hosting something special. The open kitchen glowed like a furnace at the end of the world, with gaucho chefs spinning skewers of meat like magicians casting spells. The atmosphere was upscale yet unpretentious—Fogo de Chão understands that while the meat may be the star, the supporting cast must be just as compelling.
Our server appeared with the precision of a choreographed entrance, guiding the table with a warmth that felt like hospitality perfected. Before we could dive into the carnivorous chaos, our server delivered a seafood tower so extravagant it could have been wheeled in on a golden chariot. Lobster tails and jumbo shrimp—this wasn’t just a seafood tower but an altar to decadence.
Maria Gonzales Aguilar, the director of sales, swept by to ensure everything was running smoothly. She wore the kind of smile that could disarm a room, radiating a quiet pride in the night’s unfolding magic. “This is just the beginning,” she said, gesturing to the grand spread of meats soon to follow.
The star-studded service didn’t stop there. Sophia, another server whose intuitive charm matched her flawless timing, seamlessly refilled wine glasses and ushered in gauchos carrying swords of sizzling steak. General Manager Wellington Oliveira floated through the room like a conductor orchestrating a symphony of satisfaction, ensuring each guest felt like the evening’s VIP.
And speaking of VIPs, corporate leadership was in the building. Rick Lenderman, the COO, mingled with a confidence that said he knew this location was a winner. CEO Barry McGowan, added an air of authority, casually chatting with diners and occasionally sneaking glances at the gauchos with what I can only describe as paternal pride.
Then came the meat—a never-ending parade of protein. The picanha was the standout: juicy, perfectly charred, and tender enough to bring tears to your eyes. Lamb chops followed, so succulent and flavorful that they could have been plucked from a dream. The fraldinha (bottom sirloin) had a smoky, beefy intensity that demanded attention, while the filet mignon melted on the tongue with its buttery richness.
Between bites, I glanced around the room and saw diners in various stages of bliss and surrender. The Wharf’s sleek waterfront views provided a stunning backdrop to this unrelenting feast, as if to remind us all that indulgence isn’t just a choice—it’s an art form.
By the time dessert rolled around—an impossibly airy key lime pie and chocolate cake—I had reached the kind of euphoria that only a meal of this magnitude can deliver.
Fogo de Chão at the Wharf isn’t just a restaurant; it’s a stage where fire, meat, and impeccable service come together to deliver an unforgettable performance. Under the watchful eyes of Oliveira, Gonzales Aguilar, and the corporate leadership, this temple of churrasco has firmly planted its flag in D.C.’s competitive Wharf dining scene.
So grab your red-green meat card, loosen your belt, and prepare for battle. Fogo de Chão at the Wharf isn’t just a meal—it’s an experience you’ll be talking about long after the fire dies down.
The team at WharfLifeDC will be back. We’re particularly intrigued by the all-day, everyday happy hour. We recommend you try it out as well.
For more information and hours, visit WharfLifeDC’s Fogo de Chão page.
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