eddie d's does it right.

Update: Eddie D's has relocated to the southwest part of town.

Just make me a sandwich.

After all the decadent holiday eating, all the cookies, pies and sweets, all the expensive restaurant meals, there remains a substantial craving for something basic, something simple and satisfying. It's a sandwich. Meat, cheese and veggies matched up magically and piled inside a crusty, chewy roll. Is that so much to ask for? Not at Eddie D's Famous Italian Sandwiches, a new deli in northwest Vegas. The place is operated by a family of Jersey transplants. There's a deli case that contains all the imported ham, pepperoni, pastrami, dry cured capacola (they get all their meat from Thumann's) and other goodies you could want to take home, plus the family's own homemade meatballs, pasta, chicken or eggplant cutlets ... you want it, they got it.

And they know how to handle a sandwich. A regular is a choice of two meats (ham, turkey, corned beef, roast beef, Genoa salami, pepperoni, pastrami, soppressata, proscuitto, hot or sweet capacola), American, Provolone or Swiss cheese on a hard or soft roll, or white, rye or wheat bread, with your choice of hot or mild mustard, mayo, oil and vinegar, marinated tomatoes, onions, lettuce and hot or sweet peppers. That's a regular sandwich!

Pictured here is the slow cooked roast pork sandwich, shoulder meat cooked forever and seasoned slightly with provolone cheese on a hard roll. The roll sucks up all those savory-sweet juices, and by the last few bites it was something like a pork French dip; sandwich bliss. Other hot sandwiches include roast beef, a decent Philly cheese, chicken fried steak with sauteed onions or those tender, delicious meatballs. The menu also includes a selection of signature sandwiches named for Sopranos characters: the Furio is a flavor-packed pile of capacola, salami and an incredibly sharp Provolone, the Dante has prosciutto, fresh mozzarella and sweet roasted peppers. Long live the neighborhood deli.

julian serrano.

Not counting cafes and buffets and generally uninteresting things, there are 11 new restaurants inside Aria, the centerpiece of CityCenter. Some are truly new in that they represent the debut Las Vegas appearance of some high-profile chefs, but many are new offerings from chefs and restaurateurs who already have a strong presence on the Strip. Julian Serrano is one of those chefs, but his eponymous restaurant just a few feet away from Aria's lobby check-in is something else. Why? Because he is Spanish, and here at Aria he is serving Spanish food, a comfortable menu of hot and cold tapas, paella and more. These other familiar faces and dishes (Michael Mina doing fish, Jean-Georges Vongerichten doing steak) are just that -- familiar. Serrano's other Vegas restaurant is the acclaimed Picasso at Bellagio, where classic French is the focus. So now you know why there would be such excitement when a powerfully talented and proven chef gets to work on his native eats, not to mention the fact that Vegas has few Spanish restaurants.

Julian Serrano the restaurant is a lively, colorful, upscale space, highlighted by a rainbow mosaic of tile behind the bar and several cozy nooks throughout the dining room perfect for a group meal. The menu is two pages but the wine and cocktail list is a novel, full of what is likely the best selection of Spanish wine in the city. We sampled four different, brilliant drinks during our first meal and each was deliciously unique, including a spicy, sweet and fresh-tasting bloody mary, and red sangria with a complex cinnamon aftertaste. 

  

The vast majority of the menu are the small plates we have seen before at local restaurants like Firefly and Cafe Ba Ba Reeba. But they are executed with much more sophistication at Serrano. The stuffed date, everyone's favorite, is fried with a crunchy coating we could do without but full of smoky bacon flavor. Chicken croquetas, also fried crispy, are rich and cheesy, and the simple Patatas Bravas, fried diced potatoes with a spicy tomato sauce, don't seem all that simple anymore. All flavors are magnified at Serrano; this is tapas on a level Vegas hasn't seen. This is most evident in the most modest accompaniment to our meal, a small glass filled with a sweet and savory red pepper puree. It was the first thing I tasted and I couldn't decide whether to down it like a shot of vodka or pour it on everything else I'd be eating. It was a blast of pure, clean, vegetably wonder.

Elsewhere, a tenderloin of beef on toasted bread is topped with a melting slab of Brie and a nutty, caramel sauce. Sweet, roasted piquillo peppers are stuffed with creamy cheese and given a generous dose of that spicy tomato sauce. A single seared scallop floats on a rich island of garlicky romesco. When was the last time you wanted to order everything on the menu? There truly is no going wrong here.

Whether or not Aria and the rest of CityCenter will save our city, this resort is a terrific restaurant destination, and the urban/artsy theme is an enjoyable complement to these fresh culinary experiences. Everyone was wondering what CityCenter would feel and taste like, and the early impressions are nothing but positive. It's going to take that much longer to try all these new restaurants, because it will be difficult to choose any of them over the food at Julian Serrano.

lunching at enoteca san marco.

Update: The restaurant has changed it's name to Enoteca Otto.

Enoteca San Marco is the most approachable of superchef Mario Batali's three Vegas offerings. The newest, Carnevino, is a pricey Italian steakhouse in Palazzo, and the nicest, B&B, is the Vegas version of Batali's acclaimed NY spot Babbo, serving complex yet authentic cuisine from Venetian's casino-level restaurant row. ESM, just upstairs in the faux piazza of Venetian's Grand Canal Shoppes, offers that new Vegas classic of indoor alfresco dining. From this "patio," it's hard to ignore the European street performers, which could be good or bad for your dining experience. You could always seek refuge in the small but classy dining room.

The setting is perfect for the menu, which is designed to allow you to dabble in different wines (100 bottles under a hundred bucks), house-cured meats, imported Italian cheeses and interesting antipasti. You could spend forever on the cheeses, which are priced well for sampling at three for $14, five for $17, or seven for $21. Most of this artisanal formaggi won't be found elsewhere, so have fun tasting six-month old asiago or a two-year old parmagiano reggiano.

Perhaps due to the winter temperatures and hearty appetites they can create, we took the heavy road of pizza and pasta. Enoteca San Marco boasts an expansive selection of both, and a special pizza, pasta and salad option for every day of the week. On this Friday, the pasta of the day was linguine with veal bolognese, tasty enough, and the pizza of the day was a carbonara pie. After much debate, we chose pizza with chunks of pancetta, caramelized onions, tomato and Coach Farm goat cheese (pictured). The crust was thin and chewy, the tomato sauce was surprisingly sweet, but the ultra-creamy cheese took charge masterfully. Next time I'll go for the pizza Vongole, with mozzarella, clams and chili. For my filling entree, I devoured a plate of cavatappi pasta, perfectly al dente hollowed corkscrews, smothered in a rich lamb ragu with just enough mint to make things interesting (also pictured).

It's hard to order at Enoteca San Marco because everything appears so simple and appetizing. The menu is perfectly planned. It is the best place to munch bread, cheese and salami with loads of wine, and the Italian basics of salad, pizza and pasta are individually and artfully composed. And there's meat, too ... dinner options include grilled pork chop, braised pork shoulder with apple reduction, crispy duck, veal and ricotta meatballs, and the Tuscan fish stew Cacciuco. So the lesson is ... careful about which celebrity chefs you hate on, because some of them are really killing it.

when life gives you leftovers.

We don't like Thanksgiving dinner as much as we pretend. If dry turkey, weird stuffing, lumpy mashed potatoes and canned cranberry is so good, why do we only eat it once a year? Why aren't there crowded, expensive restaurants that specialize in turkey dinners? Because it's not that good. Because it's tradition to eat this stuff, but no one really enjoys it that much. Your own personal experiences with the holiday, with your family and this food will determine how true this harsh statement is. But you have to admit it's a valid point, which is why the friend who offered this enlightenment days before the big weekend roasted a prime rib for his family this year. I hope it turned out tasty.

In my world, Thanksgiving is an odd occasion. Yes, there is food, too much of it, some delicious. Turkey is quite dry and bland by nature, which is why I prefer the moist, fatty dark meat of the bird. Never been a fan of stuffing/dressing, which presented an interesting challenge when I was assigned to make it for this year's rather large family gathering. It was okay; I found a pretty standard recipe and twisted it to include garlic-rosemary bread, slab bacon and apples. The texture was very un-stuffing like, light and approachable instead of the congealed slop people inexplicably rave about. And it tasted like bacon. So it deserved to be universally loved. Also never enjoyed the strange green bean casserole that involves crispy onions and cream of mushroom soup, yet there it was, on the table again, once per year. Mom says she has to make it, people want it, but I'm not convinced. So there is good and bad. Thanksgiving also is the gateway to the wildly emotional, unnecessarily stressful holiday season, and peering into a long December with a tryptophan hangover is not the most pleasant thing.

Perhaps that's why, in my family, we have another Thanksgiving tradition, and it's called turkitos. Years ago, my father decided the best thing to do with the leftover bird is to tear it apart, roll it up in corn tortillas and deep fry to your heart's content, serving up refried beans, grated cheese, fresh salsa and guacamole alongside. It's simple. Anyone can do it. I can't think of anything that provides a more satisfying bite after minimal effort than a fried tortilla. In my world, Turkito Day has replaced Thanksgiving in the pantheon of food holidays. (I have more: The New Year's Meatdown, Borracho Day, the annual Fall-B-Que, etc. Trademarks are pending so think up your own stupid names, please.) This year's event was long in crunchy goodness but short in attendance. Final output: approximately 75 turkey taquitos on Friday, none left standing by Monday. The backyard barbecue was transformed into a factory. You've got your shredded meat station, your cast iron skillet warming tortillas, your rolling station, your deep-fry station of vegetable and canola oil bubbling away on the grill's sideburner, and finally the paper towel-covered paydirt, the last stop for turkitos before munchdown. Freshly mixed guacamole with a jalapeno influence was waiting. A huge block of colby jack was shredded and resting in an orange bowl. We bought the good, drizzly Mexican sour cream. Several salsas, refrieds spiced with habanero hot sauce, and a head of shredded iceberg upon which to rest your bounty. I raced the clock of booze, speeding to roll and fry the last one before many early cocktails would have made me unfit to handle hot oil. I made it. All was good.

A successful Turkito Day, less than 24 hours after one of the better tasting Thanksgiving meals I can remember, will stand out in a long weekend of good eating. (Saturday, there was pizza, and Sunday, a visit to a solid Vegas steakhouse, Envy.) Definitely got the food part down. Then there's the family. These are the two splitting branches of the holiday stress tree. Both can be great fun, both can make you insane. One of them, you can always order takeout. Me, I spent an hour tearing apart turkey meat in my kitchen Friday morning, hand shredding it piece by piece, my dog begging uncontrollably just inches away. Grab a drumstick, rip it up, good meat in the bowl, bones and yuck in the garbage. Hands shiny with fat, tiny bits of bird clinging to fingers, just like I watched my dad do years back. I remember trips home from college for Thanksgiving, waking up on the couch, seeing him sitting at the dining room table doing this. Getting ready for the fry. This is our collective holiday experience, traditions we carry out whether we love them or not because they are laced with memories. We take the bitter for the sweet.

pho little saigon.

Is all pho the same? Restaurants that specialize in the traditional beef broth noodle soup are most common when it comes to Vietnamese cuisine in Las Vegas. There's even a pho joint on the Strip, in the Treasure Island hotel casino, and that's not a bad thing.

The dish may be similar from one restaurant to the next, but there are many differences, big and small, that set each eatery apart. Pho Little Saigon, for example, is a relatively large, family-friendly spot on the corner of Spring Mountain Road and Valley View Boulevard. Long, numbered tables line the dining room, lending an authentic feel. This is not unusual decor for a pho spot, but the size of the place and speedy service offer a little more comfort than many of the smaller mom-and-pops that serve similar cuisine.

The satisfying soup itself is just fine, the broth soothing with a clean taste if not overwhelmingly rich or salty. There are plenty of extra ingredients to choose from to customize your pho, chili sauce or fresh basil, bean sprouts or sriracha, along with your choice of meats. The beef served at Pho Little Saigon appears to be of a higher quality than we've experienced elsewhere, but overall, the pho is not as flavorful as it could be. That's just fine, because there are plenty of other tasty items on the menu. Sure, they'll serve up fresh rice-paper wrapped spring rolls, but the crispy Cha Gio, densely packed ground pork with shrimp and carrot, are even better. Unfortunately the kitchen was out of the Vietnamese pancake Banh Xeo on our recent visit. Pho is far from the only soup option available; you can sample porridge of beef, shrimp, fish, chicken, pork blood or pork innards. Rice plates and noodle bowls round out the menu, and some of the specialty dishes strike some Chinese notes. There's marinated beef with lemon grass grilled tableside, fried rice noodles with meat, seafood or vegetables, and finally, the titanic Seven Courses of Beef. At $24.99, it's hard to avoid. You'll get Goi Bo, or beef salad, beef in sour sauce, beef wrapped in Hawaiian lot leaf, grilled beef sausage, that grilled lemon grass stuff (Bo Nuong Xa), steamed beef and beef porridge. That's a lot of cow.

Of course, we were stuffed after the delicious Cha Gio and about a third of a huge bowl of pho. You have to be serious to try that magnificent seven.

saturdazed at spago.

You don't need a seat out on the "patio" to enoy the parade at Spago. The Forum Shops at Caesars Palace is one of the best people-watching spots in Vegas, which is evident when you pass by Spago. The people munching California-style pizzas and Thai chicken salads are looking right back at you, and maybe even bothering you. We saw a drunken hipster, proud of his perch, getting playful with female passersby on our way out of the mall on Saturday, after we had consumed a quick lunch in Spago's main dining room not far from a booth occupied by Robin Leach.

The Spago experience lived up to the hype, but the food ... not so much. It was solid if unspectacular grub, and we should know better than to be surprised by an $80 check for one drink, two salads and two lunch entrees. But Leach and other fine dining pundits maintain the cuisine at this iconic Wolfgang Puck outpost is still worthy of the attention it receives. It is, after all, a cornerstone of Las Vegas dining, the first celebrity chef restaurant to come to the desert. So it was time to return to Spago, once a blend of tourist trap and power lunch destination, to see how things are holding up. The service was very good. So were the salads, one of butter lettuce and the other a bright, fresh take on the chopped salad. It was full of sweet corn, fresh peas and snappy green beans. The Greek pizza was forgettable and the meatloaf (pictured), decorated with a bit of pancetta and a semi-rich mushroom glaze, was ... just meatloaf.

Spago has been sitting here since 1992, and it seems like you're still getting what you expect when you come here to eat. But eating isn't really why you come here, is it?

getting heavy at hedary's.

The closing of an unsung local Lebanese restaurant by the name of Byblos Cafe created something unacceptable to me: a kibbi void.

A mixture of ground beef and lamb, spices, bulgar wheat and pine nuts, then rolled into spheres and baked like meatloaf or deep fried, kibbi is one of my favorite family dishes and one of the best meat preparations in the world of Mediterranean cuisine. When Byblos died, we lost our favorite kibbi joint. In search of satisfaction, we recently made our first and second visits to Hedary's, a longtime local favorite operated by the same family behind the similar Khoury's restaurant. Here at Hedary's, the kibbi balls are massive, moist inside and well spiced, with a little more kick than we're used to. But we welcome the change. Piled on top of tender rice with yogurt sauce, this is a truly filling meal, but not as filling as the Meat Combination. This monster includes one kibbi ball along with Lebanese pork and beef sausages, a grilled beef shish kabob and a dense log of kafta, ground sirloin with spices and onions. This plate could feed a family.

Although the meat dishes center the menu, there is lighter fare at Hedary's, including decent hummus and babaganoosh, lentil soup, brick oven pizza and large salads chock full of fresh veggies, ripe tomatoes and cucumbers and herb/oil dressings. Hedary's version of falafil is one of the more delicate tastes on a generally overpowering menu, moist and flavorful and appropriate inside the chewy, fluffy pita bread that's made fresh every day. The odd flaming cheese appetizer, halloume, was like a Mediterranean version of fried mozzarella sticks, matching up nicely with a cold Almaza beer.

Affordable, friendly, and serving generous proportions, Hedary's isn't the most refined restaurant in its genre. But the family is sticking to its recipes and that's a move that has paid off. Until something better comes along, this is my new Vegas kibbi.

frank & fina's cocina.

My pick for best Mexican restaurant off the Strip goes to Frank & Fina's Cocina, a charming neighborhood joint unfortunately located way, way out west, beyond the 215 Beltway off Flamingo Road. Okay, perhaps the location isn't that bad. It's planted in one of the largest retail centers I've ever seen (even if there are plenty of open spots these days), near a Chuck E. Cheese and a Fuddrucker's. But F&F is a family-owned restaurant with about 15 years of history; until a few years ago it was located on Charleston Boulevard, much closer to the city's center. It's thriving out in the 'burbs, having taken over the space next door and expanded into a very comfortable, full-on restaurant with a menu long on tasty, light cuisine and decent drinks.

The standards are available, but F&F excels at crafting delicious vegetarian dishes with perfect spice (try the crispy, addictive veggie taquitos or perhaps some sweet potato enchiladas) and home-style, slow cooked favorites like chile verde, ropa vieja, mole, carnitas and more. On our most recent visit, we were served by Frank himself, who quickly ran down the many specials of the night and made some recommendations. Grilled tilapia tacos were tough to pass on, but I decided to try the simple grilled chicken meal, two juicy pieces with rice and beans. It could have been a little spicier but the loving preparation would shame El Pollo Loco. We also sampled panuchos (pictured), a Yucatan hybrid of tacos and tostadas. Lightly cooked corn tortillas are covered in black beans, tender chicken, smooth avocado, pickled red onion and salty Cotija cheese. The texture of the tortilla is both crispy and chewy, paving the way for each fresh flavor to shine. This simple, bright dish is the perfect example of F&F food, which always seem to rest lighter than the goods at your average Mexican kitchen. I'm not sure how they do it, but I'm grateful.

strong to the finish.

Rarely will you read anything positive about any big franchise or fast food outlet on these digital pages. I mean, I love In-N-Out Burger. But I think we can all agree that place is an oddity. If there's a silver lining in the mass production of food, it could only be consistency.

But consistency is key in certain dishes. Take for example, fried chicken. It's simple, yet complex. Easy to get, hard to make ... well, hard to make perfectly. We've all had some wonderful fried chicken at soul food joints, diners and small town family restaurants, crunchy on the outside and juicy, tender goodness inside. I have, too, and then forked open the second piece on the same plate to find a greasy, soggy, frighteningly under cooked mess. There's a science to fried chicken, a formula that must be executed to absolute precision every time. The Colonel has a formula, but ... come on, it tastes bad.

Which brings us to Popeye's. This is the best fried chicken I've had in Las Vegas. Yes, it is a massive chain, growing even larger with about 10 restaurants scattered about the area. But it's perfect every time. That skin is crispy, crunchy, unhealthy greatness. To see what it is that sets Popeye's apart, you must order it spicy, full of peppery heat embedded in those crunchy outer bits. A mouthful of tender meat with a crust of this stuff is the best bite of bird. Complement it by cramming buttery biscuits into your face, and finish it off with the most anti-fast food side dish available at any fast food joint in the history of fast food: thick, spicy, stomach-expanding red beans and rice.

This is the real. This is why KFC is called KFC instead of its original, politically-incorrect moniker, and this is why the Colonel is trying to sell you grilled chicken now. Not Popeye's. They are emphasizing Louisiana roots, hyping recipes passed down through generations, and proudly cholesterizing me whenever they want. Fried chicken. This is it.

pizzathon.

Note: An edited version of this post appears in Las Vegas Weekly.

DAY ONE: IT BEGINS

We can do this. It’ll be a breeze. Technically, we’ve done it before. I worked at a Godfather’s in Reno during the college days. For an entire summer, I made the wrong pizza just before my kitchen shift was over. Oops, guess I have to take that one home. And Maria’s father is crazy. He once put the entire family on an all-pizza diet and used it as an excuse to perfect his homemade recipes. After two months of pizza she was relieved to eat other things, but her dad still craved it as much on day 60 as he did on day one. Suffice to say, we love pizza, at least as much if not more than the general population. The fact that we refuse to eat Pizza Hut, Domino's, etc., is reason enough for me to believe we love it more than the average American. So here we are, enjoying some great pizza at Streets of New York in northwest Vegas, deciding this is the beginning of a week-long pizzathon. For seven days our only meals will be pizza, and we will enjoy every melty, spicy bite. This is a good place to start, because not only is the crust crispy and delicious and the tomato sauce slightly sweet, but we’re washing these two pizzas down with huge, frosty Shock Top Belgian White brews. Draft beer with pizza is an important factor. I'd say you can't have a proper pizza parlor without it, and you need to be able to order it by the pitcher. It may be a chain operation, but Streets of New York obviously respects the beer and an old fashioned experience. Plus, it's located in the Village of Centennial Springs, a near-empty retail walk built to look like Main Street USA, so the nostalgia cometh.

But the pizza is the important thing and this place does it right. There are some weird toppings to choose from, and plenty of other goodies on the menu like sandwiches, salads and calzone. If you're looking for a classic pizza experience in Vegas, I'd say there's good old Metro Pizza and then there are these guys ... flat-out good food.

DAY TWO: TACO PIZZA?
This Sunday morning finds me working in my brother’s backyard, shoveling rocks to augment his landscaping. It sucks, but luckily there’s fuel: leftover pizza in his fridge. I inhale a couple pieces, still cold. The cheese and sauce has congealed into spongy mush. It's gone before I think to ask where he got it from: Rosati's.

Diversification is going to keep this thing rolling. It can’t be all pepperoni. Enter the taco pizza, one of Maria’s favorites. She’s a longtime fan of this oddball delight, thanks to her Midwestern roots and a place called Happy Joe’s. This place actually serves a variety of Mexican pizzas, but the Taco Joe has a sauce of marinara mixed with refried beans, taco seasoned beef, sausage and white and yellow cheese, and then after the oven, shredded lettuce, tomato and crumbled tortilla chips. Our Vegas version is from Red Rock Pizza, which also boasts a variety of specialty pies. Its Taco Nacho pizza has seasoned ground beef, jalapenos, tomatoes, crunchy corn chips and two cheeses, so Maria says it’s close to home. “Interestingly, the tomatoes and lettuce are cooked on the pizza, under the cheese. I imagined this would be a huge mistake, but somehow it’s not,” she says. It’s seriously heavy, too, leaving plenty of leftovers for dinner. “It re-warms magnificently,” she says, and I agree. “After a few minutes in the oven it was fully restored to its tasty glory.”

DAY THREE: DOWNTOWN, THEN DEEP DISH
I work downtown. I have a few minutes for lunch and a five-dollar bill. That’s the exact cost of two slices of cheese and a can of Coke at Uncle Joe’s on Fremont Street. The paper plate isn’t big enough to accommodate these thin, greasy-in-a-good-way, New York-style beauties. A dash of crushed red pepper and they’ve disappeared.

Later, an impromptu celebration with friends is the perfect excuse to order way too much pizza. Rosati’s takes a while but eventually delivers a Chicago-style veggie and two thin-crust pies cut into square pieces (one pepperoni, green pepper and black olive, one Bianco with olive oil, tomato, garlic and spinach). The deep-dish is a beast and draws comparisons to lasagna from the uninitiated. The thick crust is filled with mushrooms, onions, green peppers and tomatoes, then covered in mozzarella and topped with pomodoro tomatoes. It’s got to weigh at least five pounds and I can barely take down a whole slice. I don't know how I feel about this Chicago business ... Maria loves it but I have a hard time comparing it to New York-style or Neapolitan-style pizza. It really is a different breed, one that hurts for a few days.

DAY FOUR: LEFTOVERS
Pizza is the best kind of leftovers. I know this for a few reasons, including: It’s great cold and it’s great reheated. (But only in the oven. The microwave is powerless here.) More importantly, it’s the only leftover Maria willingly consumes. This is ridiculous. Even if I bring home half a $50 steak, I have to cook it into something new to trick her into eating. But not pizza. Straight out of the fridge is just fine. So today is spent picking and munching at various pieces from the previous night’s feast. The deep dish holds up better the next day. “I’ll tell you why,” she says. “Because the little pizzas have to go in the oven to make them crispy and good again, but the big pizza is delicious even from the microwave.” Blasphemous.

But when dinnertime rolls around, I’m craving something fresh, so I stop at a tiny takeout joint on the way home and order the first thing that catches my eye. It’s got plenty of mozzarella and cheddar cheese, pepperoni and sausage, but it’s too ordinary and the white garlic sauce is … off. “It tastes tangy and weird,” Maria says. Still, I ate the whole thing. Maybe this is my second wind.

DAY FIVE: FROZEN IN TIME
We still have enough leftovers for breakfast and lunch, but by the afternoon we’re in need of something new. An attempt at frugality leads to the frozen section at Whole Foods. We leave with two Frontera brand pizzas, one roasted vegetable, Monterey jack cheese and poblano, the other a four cheese blend with tomato and cilantro. They crisp up nicely, but there’s no trace of poblano, cilantro or anything that tastes remotely fresh or Mexican. It’s still frozen pizza. We’re not sure if we should be mad at super chef Rick Bayless or not for these bland creations.

DAY SIX: LOST
I think I’m hitting the pizza wall. Everything is starting to blur together. Another couple of cold slices for breakfast, another couple of greasy, cheesy slices at noon. Maria switches it up with a pizza Hot Pocket for lunch. “The little cardboard thing didn’t really crunch it up, but I was really hungry,” she says. I stop at Albertson’s on the way home from work and the supermarket has never been more confusing. In the frozen aisle, some weirdo talks to me: “Wow, Freschetta for $4.99, that’s off the chain, huh?” I want to punch him. I end up at home baking a California Pizza Kitchen “Sicilian” thing and piling some microwaved barbecue brisket on top. This is going bad, real fast.

DAY SEVEN: FINISHING STRONG

I’m having problems, but Maria seems relatively unfazed. I’m hungry, but I can only eat pizza. No matter how creative we get, it’s still pizza. And I’ve learned that great pizza can be as satisfying as any gourmet meal, while bad pizza is truly terrible. So to wrap it up, we’re going to a sure-fire winner, Grimaldi’s in Henderson. I keep it simple with extra mozzarella and meatball, and like she always does, Maria out-orders me with pesto, tomato and roasted red pepper perfection (pictured). The sweet peppers with Grimaldi’s signature homemade mozzarella are pure bliss. I've written it before but it rings true every time I'm out in Henderson ... this is the pizza capital of the valley. Grimaldi's may not do true Italian the way Settebello does, and the crust may not be perfect every time, but it's so close. And the cheese is so unique and fresh, it almost makes a Summerlin dweller wanna move across town.

Thanks to reliably great pizza, we are rejuvenated. We could keep this marathon going if we wanted to, just as long as we stick to certain spots ... and stay out of the frozen food section.

locals don't go to the strip.

This is flank steak, fried eggs and oyster mushrooms on a roll from 'Wichcraft in MGM Grand. It's pretty awesome. This is the same luscious beef they're dishing up at Craftsteak just a few steps away, and it's not even the best sandwich at 'Wichcraft. But it is further proof that the best friendly little neighborhood gourmet sandwich shop in town just happens to be on the Strip.

Let's extrapolate that last sentence.

I'm asked often, by those new to Las Vegas, just visiting or contemplating the city from afar, how much time I spend on the Strip. The answer is: not as much as I'd like. Living in Vegas and keeping to the suburban cityscape is an interesting concept to outsiders, especially when they learn how common it is. You can have a perfectly normal life here. I don't have to go to the Strip if I don't want to. Locals say things like this all the time, with an odd amount of pride. Not me.

Don't misunderstand. There are great benefits here that have nothing to do with tourism and the wondrous amenities the industry provides, with convenience at or near the top of the list. But if you take the Strip out of Vegas, where does that leave us? Phoenix? That glimmering four miles on Las Vegas Boulevard contains some of the best hotels, entertainment, food and shopping in the world. Why wouldn't you go there as much as you can?

For my part, I can't get enough of the Strip and its insane restaurant offerings. It's more difficult to find great food sprinkled around the Vegas Valley because everything is so spread out, and rarely do you find a true jewel in the neighborhood. The impossibly dense concentration of fantastic dining on the Strip can't be replicated anywhere else in the world, and even the majority of older or lesser known restaurants are above average at worst. Any local who doesn't take advantage of these offerings is simply missing the point. Come on ... it's not that far. It's not cheap but there's something for every wallet, and these days there is tremendous value to be found. Just walk through one of the big casinos and marvel at all the affordable, limited-time prix fixe menus. If it all feels too fancy for you, hit a mid-level joint like TI or New York-New York; the food and fun is still better than the Chili's around the corner from your house. Get in your car, valet it, and act like someone who's in Vegas, for fuck's sake.

I've lived here for years, but I still understand that for those of you who don't, Vegas is a dream. For most of the people who call this place home, it's unrealistic, overwhelming or just too strange to attempt to live in that dream. But for others, it's too powerful to ignore. What a waste, to have total access to an experience so many others clamor for, travel for, save their shrinking paychecks for, an experience you can customize to your own personal perfection, but you just let that experience pass you by on a daily basis. Why fight gravity?

I'd like to point out that this blog entry was once about a sandwich.

parma pastavino and deli.

I know it's hard to believe, but I fucked up.

In June I wrote a review for Las Vegas Weekly on Mezzo Bistro in northwest Vegas. I've had dinner at this fine Italian restaurant several times since it opened in the spring of 2008, and I have known chef Marc Sgrizzi for years. That's the problem; familiarity can lead to laziness. This review goes into great detail about the chef and his daily specials, and by the time it was published, the chef was gone. He apparently sold the restaurant and was no longer involved with it for at least a month before I visited. Since the food and service at Mezzo remained of high quality and I was happy to write it that way, my mistake was more of a disservice to the former chef. When I discovered Sgrizzi had moved on quite quickly to open another Italian bistro and deli, I felt it necessary to give Parma a shot. Besides, this guy's food is good, so there's really no reason not to try it.

Located on Buffalo Drive just off Summerlin Parkway, this neighborhood cafe turned out to be the perfect neighborhood spot for a quiet dinner or a casual group meal. Small tables round the perimeter of the restaurant while a wine-and-snack-friendly lounge is the centerpiece. Display cases housing beautiful homemade desserts and imported meats and cheeses available by the pound rest in front of the active kitchen, where the chef and his crew are making their own pasta every day. Sgrizzi has retained his signature dishes, like the amazingly crispy, non-breaded eggplant parmesan and spinach lasagna in a tasty pink basil sauce. The carbonara is a faithful rendition of the classic dish, and like I raved about in my misguided Mezzo review, the specials here also change often and focus on fresh seafood or steak. The prices are just right, including a range of affordable wines.

This is the third Vegas restaurant for Sgrizzi and I have followed him to each one because his food is reliably good. Parma feels like the chef is in his zone, moreso than the other venues, and that's nice to see.

killin' some korean barbecue at tofu hut.

Tofu Hut probably is named so because the house specialty is a soft bean curd soup. The restaurant also touts its traditional bosam, boiled pork and duck eaten with steamed cabbage, onions and pickled beets. But we hit the hut for lunch with a certain something else in mind: Korean barbecue.

One of my partners in Chinatown exploration, Chi, recommended Tofu Hut and was happy to lead me through the all-you-can-eat, grill-at-your-table barbecue menu. He also proved particularly adept at relieving our busy (and kinda slow) server at moving the meats around the hot grill in the middle of our modest table, using tongs ninja style and shears to clip our food into smaller bite-sized pieces before tossing them onto our tiny plates. Chi had first experienced Tofu Hut on a visit to a different, nearby Korean barbecue joint that was closing and couldn't accommodate his crew's late-night urge. A Korean friend suggested Tofu Hut instead, especially since the all-you-can-eat prices are more affordable here (It's about 18 bucks during the day and 15 after hours).

We attacked, ordering everything that looked interesting: the marinated sirloin known as bulgogi, thinly sliced beef tongue and beef brisket, pork belly marinated in chili paste, sugar, garlic, soy and sesame, and some squid to top it off. Everything cooked up quickly. The squid and brisket needed some additional seasoning and the salt-and-pepper sesame dressing served on the side worked well. The bulgogi was so flavorful and tender that we ordered a second plate, and the tongue was almost as delicious. But as always, it's hard to top pork belly, especially crispy-grilled, spicy pork belly.

All this meat was accompanied by small dishes of kimchi and seaweed, cold noodle salads, peppery potato-veggie pancakes, sweet fish cakes, and a salad of greens with a light peanut and sesame oil dressing. All these side dishes are all-you-can-eat as well, and the salad was particularly fresh and tasty and a perfect complement to all the grilled protein. Planted in a small group of auto repair shops on Spring Mountain Road near Valley View Boulevard (on the other side of the street from Chinatown Plaza), Tofu Hut doesn't look like much from the outside. The dining room is pretty humble, too. But the barbecue was delicious and there was plenty of it. Like so many mid-day meals of the past, this feast made me wonder why anyone would go anywhere other than Chinatown for lunch.

benedictactular.

If you're thinking about where your weekend breakfast out should be, take a look at these bad boys. The one on top is the "standard" eggs benedict at Hash House A Go Go, with bacon, spinach, tomato and red pepper cream, piled on top of fresh, homemade biscuits instead of that weak-ass English muffin. And that one underneath is even more serious: It's a bennie, too, only the eggs are scrambled, mounted on a pounded-flat, crispy-fried half pound of pork loin, which is on top of those biscuits, tomato and spinach. It's all covered with a super-rich, slightly sweet cream sauce that'll make you forget you ever had hollandaise. The benedict options are the best thing on the Hash House menu, in my opinion, and one of the only occasions when taste makes up for ridiculously huge portions. What I'm saying is, that sauce is so good, I ate that entire plate-sized pork loin. It took me all day, but I ate it.

mediterranean fisticuffs, northwest vs. southeast.

Today we pit two popular, expanding restaurants against each other, two favorites in their respective neighborhoods. In the northwest part of town, Market Grille Cafe is something of the default champion of Greek-Mediterranean cuisine. There really is no competition. When this store popped up in the Centennial Center a few years back, its healthy menu and simple, tasty food won over the neighbors and a few local critics, and earlier this year MGC opened a second location on Lake Mead Boulevard in a venue formerly known as Pei Wei. This larger, more comfortable restaurant is thriving.

The cuisine here isn't the most authentic Greek in Vegas, but it hits all the familiar notes: those ambiguously beloved dips of hummus, satziki and babaganoush; the imported saganaki cheese; the rice-stuffed grape leaves known as dolmas or dolmades; fried falafal patties in various forms; spanakopita, or spinach and feta pie in filo pastry; and a wide assortment of fresh salads. One of my favorite dishes here is the simple and hearty mousaka -- ground beef, eggplant and potato casserole. Overall, Market Grille Cafe is serving a healthy and affordable alternative to whatever you're taking home for dinner, and while the flavors won't blow you away, the food is consistent and gets the job done.

There's something similar going on way over in Henderson, only better. The Olive Mediterranean Grill and Hookah Lounge (also getting set to expand, taking over the space next door to accommodate its growing crowd of young, hookah-loving lounge lizards) is the favorite Mediterranean spot of Henderson/Green Valley residents and has been for years. The menu here is smaller and more veggie-oriented, highlighted by big, colorful salads, satisfying lentil soup, and simple sandwiches of spicy chicken or beef in pita pockets. Where MGC is a fairly slick, franchise-ready restaurant serving up Greek favorites, the Olive is more of a casual cafe where you meet friends for something light to eat, a few Lebanese beers and maybe a smoke.

But everything is better at the Olive. Hummus, that same old puree of garbanzo beans, is impossibly rich and creamy without being overly thick, and it actually tastes great, something we can't say about the hummus at most Mediterranean restaurants in town. Babaganoush somehow comes without the natural bitterness of eggplant. The grape leaves are moist and delicious, so tender and tasty that I forgot how dry my Syrian-Lebanese grandma's were. The Olive's falafel, an appealing green color and delicately crispy, is perfect in their wraps with fresh veggies and topped with a spicy jalapeno chutney.

No matter how simple the menu, the Olive is tops. Longstanding Las Vegas favorites serving this kind of cuisine can't really complete with these flavors.

INTERVIEW: Carlos Guia

Carlos Guia is executive chef at The Country Club at Wynn Las Vegas, and also known as the chef of the former Commander's Palace restaurant in the former Aladdin.

How did your path lead to Wynn Las Vegas in 2008?
Carlos Guia: I ran Commander’s Palace for seven years, opened it and closed it, and then I had the opportunity to open Louis’ Las Vegas and Louis’ Fish Camp (at Town Square). We had issues with the economy then, with opening on time. We paid a lot of money for overtime construction to make sure Louis’ would open on time, and it did, and then we sat there for five or six months until the mall picked up business. We had good reviews, good feedback from locals, but it was just time to move on. With everything going on, I knew I wanted to find a great property that appreciates food, backs their people, and just a good culinary environment where everyone appreciates what we do for a living. I was lucky to land a spot at SW Steakhouse with David Walzog, where I was chef de cuisine for eight months, and then I was very happy to move on to the Country Club.

How do the two steakhouses, Country Club and SW, coexist or work together within the same resort?
They offer very different environments, even if the cuisine is similar. David Walzog has his own style and I have my own style. The steaks may be similar and the method of cooking them, but when it comes down to appetizers, seafood and the rest of the menu, we both kind of put our own spin on things. SW is a little hipper, a little more upbeat, while we are more relaxed. Country Club has a very serene environment overlooking the golf course and the waterfall. When you walk into the room, you don’t feel like you’re in Las Vegas. It feels like some other place, just a different feeling. To have that on the Strip is something new. It’s completely relaxed.

How do you go about setting Country Club apart from so many other steakhouses on and off the Strip?
I just try to take all my past experiences, growing up in Venezuela, living in New Orleans, traveling in Europe and working in New York City, and let those experiences shine through. I have a pretty diverse background in cuisine. I have classical French training but I like to do my Southern American and Caribbean flavors. Of course, those Southern roots come through, and there are people who expect to see shrimp and grits or gumbo, so I like to work that stuff in when I can. In the summer we put a watermelon gazpacho on the menu to cool off, with the jumbo lump crab. And I think the foie gras gumbo is pretty special.

How does your experience working at Wynn compare to New York, New Orleans and other places in your background?
We all really care about what we do, and there is a good amount of freedom here to express ourselves through food. It's kind of like, here is the restaurant, what can we do with it? The mold was already here: it's a new American steakhouse. Luckily I have a diverse American cuisine background, and it's so varied and such a great palate to work with. I just came in and -- I don't want to say, did my greatest hits -- but looked at the menu to see how I could really make it my own, being nice and diverse, offering a great variety.

Commander's Palace was truly a great restaurant and a lot of people were sad to see it close. What happened, and was there a plan to re-open in Las Vegas?
I was in New Orleans working with the Brennans for about three years, I left for two, and they asked me back to open Commander's Las Vegas. This was in 1999, and I thought, I'm not sure about Las Vegas. The second or third time they asked, I looked into it more seriously. It was still very up-and-coming then. Bellagio had opened, and the Venetian was on the way in. It was developing a lot more. So how could I say no to a world class restaurant with so much trust in me? I took the opportunity. Then the whole situation with (closing) and the Aladdin's bankruptcy ... there were a lot changes in management, and it was pretty early on, about three years in, that we decided as a group to see if there was a better place to be. But it took too long, about four years, to get out of the lease. There was a plan to re-open in early 2007, but at the time a lot of the rents were astronomical. We're talking $130 per square foot. It's really hard to make money at those levels. So I have to give it to the Brennans for knowing what they could do. They eventually opened Commander's in Destin, Florida. But they had been looking for a management contract, a hotel or restaurant group that wanted to use them as a flagship restaurant and let them run it. It didn't happen. But I still talk to Brad Brennan all the time, he still lives in Las Vegas, and he's still looking. Things are not the same as when we first opened. We had a great following, but it was a 350-seat restaurant and the plans were to scale that back so we'd be packed every night. It's hard to say now. But you never know.

How has the restaurant landscape changed in your time in Vegas? Do you think the poor economy will leave a lasting effect on Vegas' dining reputation?
It's definitely a place that’s growing every day, and there are still a lot of great chefs coming in. I've always enjoyed Las Vegas. After living in New York City for eight years, there are things I miss about that. But when I came here I learned there is a lot to do if you want to do it. But if you want to live in the suburbs, that's good here, too. I probably do a little bit of both. I like to do charity events, throw some support to local students and schools. I try to get out sometimes, but I also like my peace and quiet. As for the economy, that's a topic my friends and I have talked about a lot. There are a lot of different issues and expectations. But what we've decided is to keep pushing ourselves and make sure that when our guests come in, they are fully satisfied. People may not be spending as much but we still need to make them happy and make them want to come back. I don't know if the economy can ruin the city's reputation.

What do you think Las Vegas needs to continue to grow into a great restaurant city?
It's actually been growing a lot throughout the years, and I don't want to say it has slowed with the economy. I like the way neighborhood restaurants are coming up more, and it's a little more spread out instead of being concentrated just on the Strip. It's great to have different ethnic cuisines popping up instead of just French, Italian, and the steakhouse. Honestly, I don't get out to try restaurants as much as I should. When I get some time I like to spend it at home and do a little cooking with the kids. But the way I feel about food is definitely a passion, and I like to show that on a menu. I was just doing an interview the other day and talking about signature dishes, and I was saying you can call it a signature dish if you like but if it doesn't sell, it's not truly a signature. At Country Club, we'll bend over backwards to make a guest happy. If people are in the mood for something new, this is the place to be because we'll do whatever we can. As long as we have the capability, anything's possible.

the odd burgers of blt.

We've been to eat at BLT Burger in the Mirage a few times now, and it has been pleasant each visit. But what initially seemed to set the place apart from its upscale burger shop competition -- namely the interesting blend of beef in its signature burgers and off-the-wall options like a lamb tandoori burger -- provided nothing but disappointment during a Labor Day weekend trip to the Strip.

In a fine and festive mood after a few tropical cocktails on the Rhumbar patio, we took our normal seats at BLT's bar and perused the menu, destined to experiment. Would it be that weird lamb burger, with mint-cilantro yogurt sauce? Sounded a little scary. Maybe a salmon burger with avocado and watercress? Too soft. We decided on two crazies: the Asian "banh mi" pork and shrimp burger with pickled veggies, cucumber and sriracha mayo, and the Tex-Mex, beef with jalapenos, chili, avocado, salsa, cheese, and onion sour cream.

Wrong on both. Sounds like that Tex-Mex has way too much shit on it to actually taste the burger, huh? Yup. The chili was kinda bland, there was corn in it (which is fine but a little weird spilling out of your burger) and the only definitive taste was the heat from the jalapenos. That interesting blend of beef is a combination of sirloin, chuck, brisket and short rib, a tasty concoction with enough fatty flavor and beefy goodness. But it's so lost under this pile of mush. The Asian burger (pictured) was a different problem; the firm shrimp and pork patty held up but the toppings were useless. There was no sign of sriracha in this saucy mess, the radish and carrot were only slightly pickled and there was no spice, removing any similarity to our beloved banh mi sandwiches. The consistency of the burger was problematic as well. It reminded me of a kitchen accident from long ago, when my household was given the gift of elk. A friend had shot one and had it butchered into various forms: ground elk, steaks, jerky, elk sausage, etc. One day, craving burger, I grabbed one of the unmarked meat packages in my freezer, thawed and cooked one up, and when I chomped into it I realized it was sausage, not burger. It doesn't work, nor does this Asian burger. Odd flavor, odd texture, no good. On the plus side, BLT's sweet potato fries and onion rings are tasty.

Now, the fancy burger joint rankings look like this: 1-Burger Bar, 2-BLT, 3-LBS, 4-StripBurger.

vintner grill.

Vintner Grill resides in an unfortunate location. Sure, it's in Summerlin, a nice part of town, but more specifically it's hiding among tall buildings in a quiet office park. This must have helped the restaurant build its reputation as a West side professional power luncheon, but it's really too nice of a place with too fascinating of a menu to be hiding out anywhere. Summerlin boasts the best dining options of any Vegas suburban area, and Vintner Grill is at or near the top of the list.

Executive chef Matthew Silverman -- also the guy behind the cuisine at the local Roadrunner bar chain and Agave Mexican restaurant -- shines at Vintner with a Americanized bistro menu accented by Mediterranean flair. Dining here on New Year's Eve, our party feasted on delicately seared diver scallops with sweet corn risotto, a stunning, crispy half-chicken with mac and cheese, and a wood-fired smoked mozzarella flatbread. The restaurant, decked out in modern whites and greens, complete with a multi-canopied patio and feeling quite San Francisco-ish, was packed on this special occasion and the service was up for the challenge. They knew the menu backwards and forwards, including the expansive selection of fine cheese and charcuterie that many choose to start their meal with. This feature is rare in Vegas, especially off-Strip, and we took advantage of it at a more recent dinner at the bar.

Accompanying our cocktails were small portions of aged Wisconsin cheddar, creamy yet full Colorado goat cheese and slices of smoked duck breast, cured to a ham-like consistency. The halibut with couscous was simply prepared and delicious if one of the least exciting dishes on the menu. Sweet, firm pumpkin gnocchi, on the other hand, proved truly unique. A butter lettuce salad with warm brie and orange balsamic dressing is another favorite.

Some dessert options are furnished by the luxury chocolate store Vosges. Vintner Grill has a great bar and a great wine list to complement the interesting cuisine. It might be hard to find, but many jewels of Vegas dining are. The neighbors are lucky, and for everyone else, it's worth a trip.

memphis championship barbecue.

This is a plate of tender, crazy-smokey baby back ribs, burnt ends and beef brisket, with some fries and slaw. It was pretty good. The leftovers will be pretty good for lunch tomorrow. And I'm sorry, but we ate all the deep fried pickles so there's no picture of those.

There are certain restaurants that are standard bearers. You try a new place, decide it's great, and it makes you want to go back to your favorite to see if the new joint is better. Memphis Championship Barbecue is such a benchmark. There are bountiful little 'cue pits around Vegas (Harry-O's BBQ, Buzz BBQ, CJ's Texas Barbeque, Longhorn BBQ), reliable franchise faves (Lucille's, Famous Dave's) and even a fancy hotel-casino restaurant (RUB at Rio), and most serve great food. How can you screw up barbecue? Most of these menus are similar, as well, even if some of these guys are from Texas and some are from the South and some are from the Midwest.

Memphis stands out from the pack. Mike Mills is from the Midwest, and yes, he's pretty famous as far as barbecue guys go. But that doesn't make these restaurants (there are three) any less Vegas. The original location on Las Vegas Boulevard North near Nellis Air Force Base has been there longer than you have. The service and high quality food is consistent, which accounts for why it's one of the most popular event catering restaurants around the valley. And there's just a ton of great stuff on the menu, like that three-meat combo dinner up there, terrific, meaty chili, a spicy vinegar-based sauce for you to slather on your ribs, overstuffed hot link sandwiches, slightly smokey turkey that'll hold you over until Thanksgiving, and soulful sides like mac'n cheese, collard greens and fried okra. They do everything well, and that's really what puts Memphis ahead of the competition.

china mama. bosa 1.

Two of the more interesting recent discoveries in Chinatown happen to be right next door to each other, on Jones Boulevard just north of Spring Mountain Road: the Vietnamese Bosa 1 and the Taiwanese China Mama. I've been to lunch, alone, at both in the last month, and had some great food and kinda funny service. Not funny bad, just ... interesting.

China Mama is not the most English-friendly Chinese restaurant, but it's not too tough to figure things out here. The place is pretty big and the walls are a bright green color. This is not an Americanized Chinese restaurant, so there's no lunch special with an egg roll and egg flower soup on the side; why would you want another joint like that? Unfortunately, the menu is not built for the solo diner who wants to try different things, so I had a big dish of shredded pork and dried tofu for lunch. It was a bit salty and quite tasty, not spicy at all but very satisfying with rice.

Other notable dishes on the menu include green onion pancakes, cucumber salad, cold salted duck and pork soup dumplings. Those dumplings were what I really wanted to try, so once my lunch was brought out, I asked for the juicy dumplings, too. And then things got weird. They shot me down. The server told me I'd never be able to eat it all, this heaping plate of pork and tofu plus 8 rather large soup dumplings. He seriously talked me out of it. That hasn't happened before. Almost out of spite, I devoured my food, all of it, and I will be back for those dumplings. Be ready, China Mama.

Something very different happened to me when I visited Bosa 1, just a few steps away. I walked into the much smaller but clean and comfortable Vietnamese restaurant and immediately noticed a sign that read "Cash Only." Crestfallen, I started to ask the lady behind the counter where the nearest ATM could be found. "Well, if you want you can pay next time."

Um, what?

"Have you been here before?" No. "Well everybody always comes back, so you can pay next time you come in." Seriously? "Sure."

That's never happened. I wasn't sure if it was an act of supreme culinary confidence or just good faith, but I was impressed. Turned out Bosa 1 has every right to be confident, but they shouldn't be giving this stuff away. Las Vegas' top two restaurant critics both love this place, and now so do I. They stuffed me with fresh shrimp spring rolls that I could have eaten all day and a broken rice combo plate with a skewer of grilled shrimp, barbecued pork, a peppery quiche-like egg cake with more pork inside, shredded pork skin, a fried shrimp cake and a pickled vegetable salad. This was all on one plate, everything was delicious and had I paid, I would have cleared the place for $15. The best parts were the homemade fish sauce, which I mixed with a little scorching chili paste and dumped on everything, and the also homemade chicken soup, a clear, clean broth that I used to soak some of those vegetables and pork skin. At any price, this is one of the best lunches in Vegas.

joe's in the forum shops.

It's been ten years since I came back home to Vegas, and I've been thinking a lot about things (and restaurants) that have shaped my experience here. For better or worse, Joe's Seafood, Prime Steak and Stone Crab fits into that category.

When MenuVegas went up in the summer of '06, Joe's was the very first featured restaurant on the site. It was chosen not just because the food was good, but because it seemed like the epitome of what I then thought of as the Vegas restaurant experience. It's expensive. It's inside the Forum Shops at Caesars Palace. It's not really ours; it's an extension of an iconic Miami restaurant and operated by the Lettuce Entertain You company, which opened Joe's Chicago in 2000 and Joe's Vegas in 2004. So, like so much of this Vegas Experience, this restaurant is meant to re-create an entirely different, faraway destination. Also, it's nice. It's a classic dining room, all dark wood and white tablecloth. And the menu: seafood and steak, simple and timeless.

And still, five years later, pretty damn good. In my early visits to Joe's I was impressed with the sweetness of the namesake stone crab claws and the creamy crab bisque, and quite surprised by the steady steaks. The perfectly charred, bone-in, 16-ounce filet mignon I had on my first visit years ago remains one of the best steaks I've ever tasted. And maybe I was just in the right mood, sitting by myself at the bar, the first person in the restaurant, but today might have been the perfect lunch:
1. Hendrick's and tonic.
2. A wealthy bread basket.
3. A lot of chilled king crab legs. (The menu said 12 ounces but it had to be closer to 16.)
4. Potatoes lyonnaise, crispy and good.5. Sweet corn, pan-roasted.6. Strawberry pie and strong coffee.It was about $40 before the tip. Typically, I feel remorse after dropping this kinda money on lunch for one. Not today. The esteemed Max Jacobson recently reviewed the lunchtime offerings at RM Seafood, naming it one of the best places on the Strip for your mid-day meal. I wouldn't put Joe's at the level of Rick Moonen's place, but the lunch specials are very reasonable and, as you have just read, quite a bit of tasty food for twenty to thirty bucks.

Joe's is the type of restaurant I don't want to like. It's for tourists, sure, but so is everything else on the Strip. It's make-believe, yes. There is fresher seafood and richer beef to be found in this town. It isn't even close to being the best restaurant in Caesars. My skeptical side wants to slam this place, find something absolutely wrong with it. But I don't think that part of my brain got the message when I was fork-shoveling chunks of tender, butter-drenched king crab into my face at 11:30 this morning. I can't deny you, Joe's Stone Crab. You are good.

agave.

When it comes to Mexican food in Vegas, there are two types of restaurants: places worth going back to and places that aren't. Even though I've had lots of food and drink at Agave in Summerlin over the last few years, I'm afraid it falls into the latter category.

Despite what any critic writes or what any foodie snob will tell you, there is plenty of worthwhile Mexican food to be found in Las Vegas. Some of the most convenient, affordable, fun and interesting food on the Strip is being served at Border Grill, Dos Caminos, Diego, Isla and other restaurants, and there is no shortage of awesome hole-in-the-wall taquerias scattered about the valley. Of course, there is a powerful presence of run-of-the-mill, beans-and-rice, please-the-gringos restaurants as well. But it's pretty easy to cut through the boring (Macayo's) and discover the fantastic (Frank & Fina's).

Agave is somewhere in between. It's hard to believe this restaurant is run by the same company behind the splendid Vintner Grill just a short distance east on West Charleston Boulevard. Vintner's menu is playful continental with a Mediterranean flair; Agave's menu seems to grow less impressive every time I visit. A recent lunch on the patio started unfortunately with too-sweet, no-heat salsas, but the braised beef taquito appetizer made up for it. A gigantic machaca tostada was a massive salad atop a mound of beans and tender shredded beef, and the chicken torta also was too big to finish, a well-spiced grilled chicken breast swimming in plenty of guacamole and braced by a decent, baguette-like sandwich roll. It was filling, but far from satisfying.

I've eaten just about everything here, from fajitas to carnitas to tiny tacos to seafood, but still, the best thing one could order is a drink. All cocktails are made fresh (and a little too slow, if you ask me) and I've never sampled one I didn't like. The Tlaquepaque, with its fresh raspberries and Casa Noble tequila, remains the only blended margarita I've ever enjoyed. The house margarita is made with Herradura El Jimador and Patron Citronge, and the Jalisco Martini, which we just tried recently, blends honeydew melon and Midori with tequila for a smooth, crisp treat. Agave serves over 100 different tequilas, and you can taste by flight if you like. With its festive vibe and splashy pinkness, Agave could be a great party bar. Could be. But for now, it remains a fine place for a summer margarita with mediocre-at-best food.

home again: bagel cafe, grape street.

So I moved. It'd be easy to see, if you keep track of which restaurants I write or rave about, that I've been partial to the west side of Las Vegas. That's because it's been my home for the better part of the last 22 years. I think I get down to eat on the Strip as much as any other local, and I'm up for a jaunt out to Henderson, the south end or any other distance if there's great food to be found. But like any other suburban eater, I'm more likely to be found in my neighborhood. For the last three-plus years, that's been the northwest suburb of Centennial Hills, where I discovered some great places to eat: Indian Curry Bowl, Vega's Cafe, Retro Bakery, Sushi Loca, and the Charcoal Room, to name a handful. There really is outstanding dining to be found in every corner of the Las Vegas Valley.

But now I'm back home again, the neighborhood I more or less grew up in: the very tip of Summerlin, right along the Pueblo Park. Sure, it's not far from my previous location, just a few minutes on U.S. Highway 95. But it offers a certain comfort to me, a familiarity, and there are even more delicious restaurants nearby. Probably the best closest joint is the beloved French bistro Marche Bacchus, and I have to admit I have not been there recently. It won't be long before I return. But I have already paid a visit to two other long-popular destinations.

Bagel Cafe is quite simply the best deli-style restaurant in Vegas. This is the place for huge, homemade bagels, in every flavor variety you could think of and topped with every flavor of cream cheese imaginable; terrific, soul-satisfying matzoh ball soup; super-stacked deli sandwiches; gigantic fresh salads; and my personal favorite, monstrous fish platters with fresh, colorful vegetables. This morning I went overboard (pictured) with a plate stocked with dill shrimp salad, baked smoked salmon salad, coleslaw and potato salad, and an array of juicy red tomatoes, cucumbers, homemade pickles, olives and red onion to top my toasted sesame bagel with scallion cream cheese. It's easy to see (and taste) why the Bagel Cafe is packed for lunch during the week and all morning long on the weekends; it's truly a Vegas favorite. I also like to drool over the fresh pastries and cookies in the case up front.

Grape Street Cafe is almost as popular, a friendly neighborhood wine bar serving a lot of salads, some steak and seafood, pasta and pizza to a very Summerlin crowd. (What I mean by this: middle aged white people.) The wine selection is extensive and there's usually a seat at the bar if you're looking to do some sampling, but they stay pretty busy for dinner. A light dinner last night consisted of crostini, crisp toast with gorgonzola, goat cheese and roasted peppers; a pizza margherita and a tasty flank steak salad that could have been vastly improved by using any lettuce other than iceberg. I've never had a bad appetizer or dessert at Grape Street, and the kitchen handles fish well, too. The prices could be a bit lower, but it's not a bad deal for a reliably good meal from a diverse menu and a great bunch of bottles to choose from.