Everything starts with fire.
Not the romantic kind. Not campfires and folklore.
The kind that ends things.
Somewhere in Portugal, centuries ago, fire wasn't a metaphor. It was a tool. A clearing mechanism. You burned what was old so something real could grow in the ash. No sentiment. No preservation for the sake of it. If it couldn't survive contact with heat — it didn't deserve to.
They called it #Fogo .
The people who named this chain knew that.
They didn't pick the word because it sounded fast, though it is. Didn't pick it because flames photograph well, though they do. They picked it because fire is the only force that doesn't negotiate with what came before it.
The old UX — gone.
The gas anxiety — gone.
The wallet prompts, the friction, the infrastructure that made users feel like they were filing paperwork —
Burned.
What's left is what survives heat.
Execution that doesn't flinch. Sessions that don't interrupt. Performance that doesn't collapse the moment real people show up.
Fogo doesn't promise to be better than what exists.
It promises to be what remains after what exists stops being enough.