Nosso Casa, review

IN THESE austere times, people have become less ashamed of the ‘all you can eat’ option. Look at a recent opening in the city, Red Hot World Buffet, a concept hung fairly and squarely on cramming as much down your gullet as possible for a fixed price.

There’s no shame in it. The Brazilian 'churrascaria' concept has been kicking around a while, through Pau Brasil (renamed Bem Brasil).

These are restaurants for red-blooded carnivores. Yes, you’ve got some cursory salad but it’s all about the meat. Skewers laden with protein and guilt.

Without us even noticing him, Skewer Man was back again, waving an impaled lamb shoulder around like a prehistoric wizard's wand. Salad was losing the war.

Maybe the Canal Street area is full of vegetarians because when I walked into Nosso Casa, on Sackville Street, it was empty. Totally empty. A shame really, as this is the same team behind its former guise, Tropiero, people who obviously care about the place and want to make it work.

Maybe, I thought, the food is just not that good.

There are no starters or mains here. Just a flat price (£14.50 at lunch) , that salad bar (cucumber, onions and chillies were good, as were marinated chillies and the rice with soy) and lots of meat.

First to arrive was the pork sausage, which was very nice indeed and a little bit spicy. Short and fat and not too overwhelming, like a friendly introduction to the man with skewers, who would sporadically emerge from downstairs.

Next time we saw him, he was wielding pork ribs. These were a little fatty but pleasant enough. At this stage, salad was still winning the territorial war on my plate, even managing to hold firm when a juicy nugget of chicken arrived wrapped in bacon. Nice idea.

The balance was struck once a piece of spicy chicken arrived. "A bit greasy," said Jen, who'd come along for the ride. "Not for me." I quite liked it though. The skin was crispy and the fat was full of chicken flavour, like picking off the bits that fall from the bird and onto the chopping board when you're carving the Sunday roast.

Without us even noticing him, Skewer Man was back again, waving an impaled lamb shoulder around like a prehistoric wizard's wand. Yes please. Onto the plate it goes. Salad was losing the war. 

The lamb was moist, tender, honest. I did wonder what would happen to the rest of it though. Does Skewer Man devour what's left? Does it sit under the lights to dry out? I felt sad this much meat was being prepared for just the two of us.

Before I could revisit the salad bar, a hunk of fillet steak had arrived, cooked to medium and dark and smoky in flavour. It would have been easy to say everything tasted of chilli sauce, given that it was all over the plate, but it worked. Ditto the sirloin that came next - pink, tender and juicy.

We were getting full. We made a cursory trip to the salad station, as much for the exercise as anything else.

When we got back, Skewer Man wasn't far behind. He had rump steak.

"We might be too full I'm afraid."

"But it's the best of the lot," he winced. 

Not wanting to see a grown man cry, we let him carve a strip off. Just as well really. He was right. Perfectly pink in the middle, this was a wonderful bit of meat. 

"Then we just repeat again if you want?" said Skewer Man, with fire in his eyes.

No chance, Time to tap out. A decent lemon pie (£4.50) and a refreshing sorbet (£3.50) covered off the need for a sweet fix, as we tried to fight off the meat sweats and the overwhelming desire for an afternoon nap.

And this is the underlying sadness about Nosso Casa. It's good, but it seems to have been forgotten, because it might just be a little too fringe for some people.

The enthusiasm of the owner and the meat-wielding basement dweller are a good enough reason to pay a visit and the food is definitely value. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to have to go for a lie down...