me vs. buzz; buzz kills.

We all love barbecue, no? It's very American. It's a reliable meal of equal parts tasty, nostalgic and fun, and it's relatively easy and fun to cook, too. In fact, even though most of us are merely grilling burgers or steaks over our backyard propoane robo-cookers, we all think we are barbecue masters.

I'm no different. For years I've been making the best baby back ribs I've ever tasted, tender pork awesomeness with a sweet-and-spicy hickory/hoisin sauce, even though I can accept the truth that since there is no smoke involved in my process, I'm pretty much faking it. More recently, I've experimented with a cute little smokebox in my propane grill, which has had some decent results. The first try was a pretty damn good brisket, cooked low and slow for about five hours, super tender and smoky tasting with a savory peppered crust, but maybe a bit dry. Weeks ago, I dropped the first cookout of '11 on my surprisingly growing group of friends and went to town on the ribs, some chopped pork for sandwiches, grilled chicken and a first attempt at pigstrami (pictured). It's kinda hard to fuck up pork, but this was definitely a success: a top loin with a good amount of fat, overnight dry-brined with black and Szechuan peppercorns, garlic, crushed red pepper, mustard seed, lots of cracked coriander seed, and other traditional pastrami seasonings. We smoked it with applewood chips for a long time, and it came out juicy and nice. Next time we'll use a liquid brine, or maybe just make some more time for those great flavors to set in.

But it only took a few days for that backyard pride to dissipate. You see, no matter what crazy rubs and sauces you like, no matter how much smoke and fire you keep burning, you're not a barbecue master unless you are. All it takes is a visit to a true master's domain to bring some humility. And so it was when I visited the new, second location of my favorite Vegas 'cue joint, Buzz BBQ, for some brisket (pictured). It's simply no contest. These guys serve it up serious - superthick slabs of meaty perfection, deeply imbedded with hickory smoke, fat melting between slices, ultimately juicy and soft. The sauce comes on the side at Buzz and they have a solid spicy version, but you don't need it with the brisket. Actually, you don't need it with the chicken or the ribs, either, but it's good with pulled pork or chicken and hey, why not dip the great fried catfish in it? Buzz has great sandwiches, too, like the Pig Twister, with pulled pork plus Andouille sausage, or the Texas Tornado, which adds some of this supreme brisket to that meaty mix.

Because barbecue is so regional and is rooted in historic areas (like the South and Texas) and not so much on the west coast (like Vegas), the restaurants that serve this wonderful cuisine in our city don't get much credit. Also, barbecue may be fun and easy at home, but it doesn't necessarily translate well into the restaurant biz due to time consuming preparation and a short window  for optimal service. But there are a small handful of stores that have been doing it right for years now here in the desert, and with its recent expansion, let's add Buzz to that bunch. They deserve it, for the brisket if nothing else.

pin kaow.

Stop for a moment and think about the wonderful comfort of the neighborhood restaurant. You know which one I mean: It doubles as a place you'll go for a special occasion and the place you can't wait to get to when your Friday shift is over. The service is either good or it's great, but it doesn't really matter because they know you here. It's your place. The stuff they cook at your neighborhood restaurant probably isn't your favorite type of cuisine, but there are a few dishes that are so good, it's as if they're cooking just for you, just to your palate's specifications. Or maybe they are cooking just for you, maybe the guys in the back know exactly how you want it and they're happy to reward your loyalty. Because you eat at your neighborhood restaurant at least once a week, and if it's only once a month, you'll feel like you haven't been in ages. The restaurant will miss you. And like an ex that may still have some sort of magic spell on your emotions, this restaurant will be your constant comparison, your frame of reference when you venture away from home and try things new and different. That was excellent, you'll tell your husband or wife after a great adventure of a meal, but I still like the Whatever at My Neighborhood Restaurant. You will think this, you will say this, and then you'll think of me, because I wrote that terrible ex metaphor you just read. And you might be a little uncomfortable because now you ARE thinking of your ex while discussing dinner with your spouse. Oops. Whatever.

The point is: your attachment to the good food in your immediate area is a strong connection. Great neighborhood dining can be a substantial block in the wall of community. And if you don't live here, there's a chance you don't realize that Las Vegas really is like any other place, and we have neighborhoods, and we have great neighborhood restaurants. Of course, we don't all choose the good ones to be our go-to spot. In fact, sometimes we don't choose at all. Perhaps it's a combination of circumstances that allows the restaurant to choose us. And I'm not gonna get all judgy; it's perfectly fine if your spot is PF Chang's or a sports bar with great chicken wings or a greasy little pizza joint. We work with what we have. Not all neighborhoods have as many tasty destinations as mine. I am lucky. And my neighborhood restaurant is called Pin Kaow.

There are three different Pin Kaow restaurants in the Vegas valley, which is great news, because that means I can share my favorite northwest neighborhood grub with people who live in the southwest and southeast. It can be ours. The original restaurant, which is just off U.S. Highway 95 at Lake Mead Boulevard, opened in 2001. I do not know the name of the family that runs these places, nor do I need to. I don't know who cooks, and it doesn't matter. There are really only two things you need to know about Pin Kaow:

1. The food is really fucking good.
2. It's Thai food.

First, let's explore why I love to eat here so much. The menu is pretty traditional, and it has been called authentic. (The atmosphere also is traditional and very pretty, with lots of lacquered wood and tables big enough for family dining.) It's open every day and serves pretty much every Thai dish you've heard of, with a bit of familiar Chinese mixed in for those folks who are, sadly, missing out on the spicy and sweet treasures of southeast Asian food. There are chef's specials that change with the seasons and focus on seafood, dishes like clams sauteed with chilis, bell peppers, onions and basil, or deep fried prawns in a deep tamarind sauce. Pin Kaow does the basics very well: creamy coconut and lemongrass soups, a way-above average Pad Thai, and spicy salads like larb and Crying Tiger Beef drenched in fresh lime juice and fish sauce. It's so steady here.

The curries are impeccable, thick, rich and well balanced. We particularly dig on Masaman curry with potatoes and crushed peanuts, and red curry to which you can add, of course, your choice of tofu, chicken, beef, pork or shrimp. There's also a special duck curry with tomato, pineapple, basil and chili. Also, don't skip the fried rice dishes, which include standard stuff like combo meat or pineapple, and better stuff like chili fried rice with egg and broccoli or, again, duck fried rice with Chinese broccoli and tomato. For dessert, all you'll need is sweet rice with mango, if it's in season, or coconut ice cream if it isn't.

I am stuck on a few dishes at Pin Kaow, just as hard as I am stuck on the restaurant itself. I cannot seem to stop myself from ordering Chinese broccoli with crispy pork, a super-simple dish of stir-fried vegetables in a chili-laden, garlic brown sauce with mighty chunks of pork belly. Each bite of pig falls somewhere between sauce-absorbing meatiness and a full-blown cracklin, and even though I order the dish with medium heat, it always comes out with the perfect amount of forehead sweat inducing power. This is my food, one of my favorite dishes anywhere. In a close second is the soft shell crab salad, which I hope finds a home on the permanent menu. Just typing about this stuff right now has increased the odds of my dining here tonight by 50 to 60 percent.

Now let's discuss point number two. If you're going to claim any Thai restaurant in Las Vegas is a good one, it's going to be compared to the infamous Lotus of Siam. Years ago, L.A. writer Jonathan Gold wrote in Gourmet magazine that Lotus, a relatively small, family-run restaurant in the aging, eclectic Commercial Center on Sahara Avenue just east of the Strip, is the best Thai restaurant in North America. Vegas visitors picked up on the tip and have made Lotus one of the most popular off-Strip restaurants in the city. Locals love it too, including local critics, and so this unassuming spot has become regarded as the be all and the end all of Thai cuisine in Las Vegas. (Recently, chef/owner Saipin Chutima and her team did what once seemed impossible and expanded their Vegas brand to New York City. But within months, they pulled out of the new restaurant, and continue to operate in Vegas.)

So does Lotus live up this reputation, built on word of mouth and hype from a few critics? I've eaten there a handful of times, and the food is amazing. There are specialties from the chef's native Northern Thailand and other delicious, hard-to-find dishes that aren't on the menu at my beloved Pin Kaow. I'm probably the only active restaurant writer in Vegas that would choose Pin Kaow over Lotus. But it's an easy decision, and this is why: I know Lotus is tremendous. I love great Thai food, and there it is, and it's not inconvenient to go there. And yet I don't. It's been more than a year since I made the quick trip across Las Vegas Boulevard. And why would I? I've got my favorite Thai spot, it's completely delicious, and it's right down the street. It's Pin Kaow. Behold the power of the neighborhood restaurant.

there are things you need to eat at julian serrano.

When I recorded my first impressions of Julian Serrano, just days after the restaurant and its host resort, Aria, opened, I noted the "vast majority" of the menu's offerings consisted of "small plates we have seen before at local restaurants." That may not have been so true, and it certainly isn't the case now. The menu has adjusted considerably after a year, and the Serrano kitchen is flexing mightily.

What I'm saying is, the best Spanish restaurant in the city is getting better. Okay, fine, I have not yet dined at Jaleo next door in The Cosmpolitan. But I've heard mixed reviews from trusted associates, and bottom line is Serrano is the standard bearer. Anybody, even José Andrés, has some work to do to catch this pitch-perfect tapas factory.

With its ever-widening array of deliciousness -- soups, salads, modern and classic Spanish tapas, ceviches, tiraditos, more seafood, cheese, charcuterie, richly flavored vegetarian options, paella, and larger plates featuring lobster, Iberico pork, chicken, lamb and beef -- the Serrano menu provides endless opportunities for new experience within the same restaurant. On our most recent visit, we were wowed by a few relatively simple dishes that were new to us, but not to the menu. Among them, the luscious plate of Pata Negra ham, served with grilled bread and a garden-fresh garlic tomato jam, and the utterly lovable Huevos Estrellados, perfect crispy fries topped with fried eggs and Spanish pork chorizo. It's so good it's stupid. Wifey: "This is what you're making me for breakfast every Sunday starting now." I could try forever, and never make such sublime frites, and never fry eggs to this point of rich, yolky supremacy.

Julian Serrano is one of our best restaurants, and while everyone's all jazzed up about new baby Cosmo, let's not forget Aria and CityCenter have some terrific food. The combination of the two newest resorts is probably powerful enough, food-wise, to pull me away from my former favorite Strip crawl of Wynn/Encore/Palazzo/Venetian. I'll keep you posted.