Every two minutes or less, a server approaches the table with knives and a skewer, freshly taken from a special grill. Legs of lamb, chicken hearts (“I´ll pass”), roast pork, fish varieties that I still can´t pronounce even though I asked them to repeat it five times, bacon-wrapped chicken, filet mignon, rump steak coated with parmesan—it´s coming at you, and if it´s not coming at you, it will. The servers are busy bees, and they keep the customers busy viewing, selecting, chewing, nodding, and barely finishing a second bite of one type of meat when a different server is approaching with another selection.