By Ann Christenson

     This concept is sexy, to be sure - no menus to make you think too hard, the prospect of eating as much as you want for a fixed price and the promise of swarthy South American gauchos in blousy pants and boots carrying spits of sizzling meat around the dining room.
     Restaurants specializing in fire-roasted foods and a Brazilian style of "continuous" table service have popped up in big cities like Atlanta and Chicago. Now it's our mid-size city's turn. Filling out the spacious digs vacated a few years ago by Stout Brothers Public House, Sabor Brazilian Churrascaria has an exotic name ("sabor" is Spanish for "flavor") and an exotic way of doing things. A "churrascaria" refers to a steakhouse in Brazil or Portugal that serves a dozen or so kinds of roasted meat. The servers (a.k.a., gauchos, who, I'm told, truly are Brazilian) go from table to table bearing skewers threaded with meat, which they skillfully slice for the diners.
     In Sabor (brought to us by Oscar Inc., also behind the Buffalo Wild Wings franchises) and restaurants like it, the manner in which the service is executed is key. What you have at every place setting is a disk, red on one side and green on the other. When it's flipped to the green side, gauchos virtually creep out of the walls with their skewers and knives and smiles. One will have leg of lamb, the next beef tenderloin, another chicken, pork, sausage and so on. The gauchos won't stop coming to your table until you switch the disk to red. By the time the service is in full swing, the table is dotted with side dishes, and you've already consumed one or more helpings from the unlimited first-course buffet, which is positioned midway between two attractive Kahler-Slater-designed brick and high ceilings (adjacent to one is a two-level wine storage room holding 2,400 bottles). This has all happened without your ever seeing a menu. You don't need one. You pay $42.50 for the buffet and meat courses ($32.50 for the first course only.) Drinks and desserts are extra.
    My, I'm suddenly feeling winded. That shouldn't come as a shock. The idea behind this dining style is that you eat slowly and take breaks between courses, chat, have another drink, then start a new plate. If you can really eat - and I mean eat - you'll get your Milwaukee money's worth. Tiny tummies might be less impressed. Then again, maybe not. The emphasis is also on quality, which two visits have shown me. I'd be fine just grazing from the salads and antipasto-type items on the buffet table, although the meats were marvelous - juicy and well-seasoned (no sauces necessary): Parmesan-crusted pork tenderloin, bacon-wrapped chicken shish kebabs, wafer-thin sliced leg of lamb, garlic beef tenderloin and others. With them, you also have mini cheese rolls, garlic mashed potatoes, white rice, black beans (too salty for my taste) and syrupy bananas sautéed in cinnamon and sugar.
    It's almost laughable when the server arrives with a dessert menu. (Maybe the laughable part is how easy it is to descend deeper into gluttony.) The subtle burn of the caramel sauce pooled over my flan diverted my attention away from the custard's heavy, gummy texture ($7). And the crème de papaya went down remarkably easily into a distended belly ($7).  The ultra-smooth mix of vanilla frozen custard and puréed papaya is drizzled with heady crème de cassis (blackberry liqueur).
    I predict that people will go bananas for Sabor, at least through its novelty phase. But I must warn you: Water and Mason is not an easy place to find street parking. Leaving your wheels with the valet is the solution, but that's $5. And in Milwaukee, $5 is something. My advice? Like the feedbag that you can't avoid strapping on here...live a little.