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.