ah damn, rosemary's?

Before I started writing about food, I wrote about music. I wrote reviews of concerts and new albums and interviewed whoever was coming through town, people like Morris Day and Rob Halford and John Legend, and guitar players or bass players from rock bands whose lead singers didn't want to talk. It was fun, but my favorite part was listening to the music and then writing about it. (This was back in the old days when there were things called CDs.) Just as in writing about restaurants, I did not particularly enjoy being a critic of music, of someone's self-expression, of their art. But that's the job.

Listening to lots of new CDs created a clear-cut divide for me. There were only two kinds of records: those intended to be art and those intended to make money. The age-old struggle. And of course, the real truth is that most were a blend of both.

The music critic days are long gone and now that I've been doing this food thing for a few years, I see those same classifications in the Vegas restaurant world. Some joints, you can tell as soon as you walk in that it's all about pushing out product, satisfying customers, turning over tables and stacking cash. This is the case with the vast majority of restaurants on the Strip, franchises, and pretty much everybody else. Nothing wrong with that; this is business. But a few of our city's eateries exist for something more, or at least they inject enough affection into the experience to make it feel like they love what they're doing, they love to cook your food, they love to send you off with delicious memories. Once upon a time there was one of these in every casino, a loss-leading, mind-blowing dining room selling tourists a once-in-a-lifetime epicurean experience. There's a few left. Alex at Wynn was one. It's probably more likely you'll find art-over-commerce eats off the Strip, in the neighborhoods, where the pressure to make a million dollars isn't weighing on the kitchen every day. This phenomenon occurs most commonly when a talented chef moves in from another town to work the Strip, decides to make his or her home in Vegas, and ends up opening a great neighborhood restaurant where he or she can really cook his or her own food. This is how we got Firefly. This is how we got Todd's Unique Dining. This is how we got Rosemary's.

Earlier this week, it was announced Rosemary's had closed for good. It opened in the spring of 1999 on the west side of the valley, near the Lakes and Summerlin neighborhoods. That was the same time I came back home to Vegas after college. It took me a while to make my first trip to Rosemary's, even though it was nearby, because it seemed too fancy and too expensive for a 20-something. But over the last 12 years I've had some truly great meals there, and even more stops at the bar for a light dinner, incredible snacks and lots of cocktails. Chefs and owners Michael and Wendy Jordan have been as beloved in the local dining community as their jewel of a restaurant, mostly because their cuisine -- warm, modern American with a kiss of Southern influence, nodding to Emeril Lagasse who brought them to Las Vegas -- was reliable and delicious and really set a new standard for neighborhood dining in the area. I don't think it's a stretch to say that for its entire tenure, Rosemary's was considered the best restaurant in Las Vegas off the Strip. If you believe food can be art, this was the place.

hook me up with a good pan roast.

I spent a chunk of years working for the Las Vegas Review-Journal, which is located on the northwest edge of what is considered to be downtown. For some of those same years, I lived in the northwest part of the valley. Much of my time then was commuting on Rancho Drive, back and forth, passing Texas Station a few times every day. So I've eaten a lot of meals there, in one of Station Casinos' most humble properties. Lots of Fatburgers and Rubio's fish tacos, and not so much cafe and buffet food. (It should be noted, however, that Texas' steakhouse, Austin's, is pretty decent. Recently, it began serving a fun little happy hour menu from its A-5 bar, stuff like sliders and salads and fried shishito peppers.)


But most of my Texas Station lunches were at the Texas Star Oyster Bar, murdering many bowls of blisfully orange, seafood-laden pan roast. It had been a long time, years maybe, since I ate this lunch here. It's still pretty good, but it could have been fired up a bit. A pan roast is a weird, semi-Cajun seafood bisque, full of spices (paprika makes it orange), a little sherry and a lot of cream prepared in a steam cooker. At Texas, you can order it with shrimp, crab or oysters, or a combination of all of the above. Definitely get the combination. There is some white fish in there, too, and you have the option of white rice or pasta to soak up this rich, thick, fishy, totally-overdoing-it broth. It's also best to order it spicy, like I did, although it won't come hot enough. The thing about this dish is that it's huge. There's a reason you only ever get lobster bisque in a tiny little cup. This is a mighty big bowl of creamy, savory warmth, and yet I always eat at all. I love pan roast. What can I say?


There's other more pedestrian food at this oyster bar besides the raw stuff: fried seafood, sandwiches, salads. What kept me coming back, besides proximity and convenience, was the fact that there just aren't many oyster bars or seafood houses of this type anymore. It's kind of a played-out, throwback restaurant concept. There's only one southern seafood house I can think of in town -- Lola's downtown at the Holsum Lofts. Buzio's restaurant in the Rio used to serve a good pan roast, but that place has seen many menu changes and is more of a New England seafood spot now. In fact, most of the seafood restaurants in Vegas are closer to steakhouses with some fish on the menu. In fact, I can't think of an oyster bar anywhere in this town that's not inside a casino. I guess that makes me a tourist. Huh.

lunch at estiatorio milos.

As I said to some colleagues while I was eating this lunch at Milos, it's getting difficult to find new, fresh food to write about in Las Vegas outside of The Cosmopolitan. The local economy is still moving slowly and fewer restaurants are opening these days, so that's part of it. The fact that we're not going to have a giant resort opening with tons of new eateries inside it anytime soon is another part. But really, it's all about the fact that Cosmo totally hit the nail on the head in terms of what's hot in the food world right now and how to present it. The hotel's glitzy steakhouse STK is murdering it, everybody's still buzzing about the secret pizza shop, the wild China Poblano and the spaghetti at Scarpetta, and now, six months after opening, locals and steady Vegas visitors are discovering more good eats as they sample the "deep cuts" of Cosmo's culinary repertoire.

The 2011 Lunch Menu at Estiatorio Milos, priced at $20.11 for three courses, has been raved about by every local food writer and even some out-of-towners. It's an incredible deal considering the ingredients alone, as this restaurant -- transplanted from Montreal and set to open its fifth location later this year in Miami -- is known for flying in the freshest fish from the Mediterranean. The goal is to change the American perception of Greek food, and after one meal, it's safe to say this cuisine is unlike almost anything else you can get in Vegas. I think of it as the Greek answer to Bartolotta Ristorante di Mare at Wynn, another fantastic restaurant that spends a lot on jet fuel transporting goodies to the desert. The difference is Bartolotta has never done lunch, and the beautiful, wide open, tranquil room at Milos is much less imposing. It's a great place to eat, and noon is a great place to do it. I'm happy to join the local chorus in claiming this is the best lunch deal in Vegas. Here's a little look; now go get your own.

To start, the hortopita: delicate housemade phyllo stuffed with wild greens and aged feta cheese, served with salumi and the thickest, best Greek yogurt ever.

Then the fish: lavraki, or sea bass, served pretty much whole. This is much more food than it appears to be, especially since you're going to want every bite. The fatty, crispy skin parts are unreasonably delicious.

For dessert, Karidopita Me Pagoto. It was described as nutty cake with a little bit of ice cream, but it's actually a moist, fluffy brick of the stuff that makes baklava so awesome. It's beyond rich and seemingly impossible to finish. Especially after all that amazing fish.

back to raku. oh, now i get it.

Let's get simple. There are three places to eat in Las Vegas. There's the Strip, there's your neighborhood, and there's Chinatown. For most of us, the Strip is for special occasions. (If you're just visiting Vegas, that's pretty special, right?) Your neighborhood is where you dine most of the time. It's normal for humans to do this. And unless it happens to be your neighborhood (or if you're one of the food obsessed), Chinatown is an occasional culinary adventure, for the more adventurous. That's all there is to it, really.

And now let's accept the fact that Strip dining, as dynamic as it is, can get old fast. It's too much sometimes. And your neighborhood can get boring, even faster. Chinatown doesn't have those problems. It's never too much, and it's never boring. It's the sweet spot every time.

So now let's return to one of the undeniable highlights of Las Vegas Chinatown, Raku. After my virgin visit, I accepted this place is something different, and can be a puzzling experience. But now I am compelled to recommend that you return to Raku often and find your own experience there. It will be rewarding. The high-fallutin' foodie folk will tell you this is just pure, authentic, clean Japanese pub food, but forget those people. Those are not normal people. There are challenging things on this menu, but you don't have to try them. There are just as many simple, delicious plates as there is crazy shit. It is inevitable that you will find something you love. For my lovely yet fearful wife, it was crispy asparagus okaki, perfect vegetable bliss (pic right). For me, it was everything else. But what really blew me away was something I would normally stay away from, an ingredient I only pretend to enjoy when it's mixed in and drowned out by lots of other ingredients and flavors. The beef tendon from the robata grill doesn't look like much, but after an evening of trying just about everything, tons of tastes subtle and powerful, it's the one bite that I can't get out of my head. First the lingering cloud from the charcoal grill hits you as you get ready to chomp, and then it's overwhelming. Distinctly beefy, but also salty, smokey, rich and buttery. And the texture attacks, spreading itself around without asking permission, but just go with it. This is not going to sound appetizing, but it's like The Blob from the old cheesy movies (I prefer the Kevin Dillon version), only a tiny version that tastes awesome and only wants to take over your mouth, not the whole city. It's simply a rendition of a dish that I've never experienced, and now it's the only way I want to eat tendon ever again. And there are so many other things at Raku that are just as great.

Kobe beef skirt with garlic.

More beef? Okay.

Back to the robata skewers, here's pork cheek, fatty, firm and delicious.

Peace in a bowl. Cold green tea soba noodles with a poached egg.

Amazing pork belly, great slabs of it in Raku's astonishing dashi with a little Chinese mustard. Wow.

And here's that beef tendon. Told ya it doesn't look like much. I'll have yours if you don't want it, sucker.

last lunch at venetian/palazzo.

For someone who eats out as much as I do (way too much), I have surprising few regular dining companions. And now I have lost one. My friend and former colleague Lauren has run off to New York, and it's a big loss for lunching. She finished up her Vegas era working for the Venetian and Palazzo resorts, which meant that we did some serious work on the many restaurants in these two big, beautiful Strip properties.


We made some mistakes, just a few. We went to First Food & Bar and Grand Lux Cafe a few times too many, getting stuck in mediocrity. We didn't go to Bouchon enough, but that's not our fault; only recently has the place been open for a proper lunch. We had decent lunches at restaurants that should be visited at dinner, like Valentino and Pinot Brasserie. Wolfgang Puck's Postrio is okay, but straight across from it, Mario Batali's Enoteca Otto is better, with some of the best pizza and pasta around. And, to my surprise, the lasagna at Zeffirino is outstanding, as is pretty much everything at the quiet Zine Noodles & Dim Sum.

The last lunch was last week, and we closed our run at Emeril Lagasse's Table 10. This place is hidden in the second story shops in Palazzo, above the casino, between a closed space that used to be Woo pan-Asian and the genre-bending SushiSamba. If this sounds confusing, that's because it is. Many of the restaurants at Palazzo have struggled due to strange placement (see Restaurant Charlie, as in Trotter).


Table 10, despite the big name chef on the marquee, also has been somewhat forgotten, but that may be changing. The menu, described as a New Orleans eatery with market fresh ingredients, has taken a prominent turn toward the market. There's a nice little frisee salad with a poached farm egg, smoked bacon, parmesan reggiano and red wine vinaigrette with a mini brioche on the side (above pic). There are "snacks" on the lunch menu including candied North Country farm bacon, fried Great Lakes smelt with lemon mayo, and veal cheeks with wild mushrooms and fava beans. Sure, there is some heavy stuff, like these amazing Kurobuta baby back rotisserie ribs (pic) and a killer ribeye sandwich with grilled portobello and horseradish, but there's also seared tuna with a farro salad and some simple po-boy sandwiches. At dinner, there's Colorado beef and lamb, suckling pig porchetta from Iowa and Hawaiian snapper. Don't do like we did and eat way too much meat. Save room for dessert, since Emeril's spots always do sweets right: banana cream pie, coconut cheesecake, or a chocolate flourless cake with a Kona coffee milkshake.


You can't really eat your way through all the restaurants in these huge, bajillion-dollar hotel casinos. There are just too many great choices, and once you find some food you love and go back for more, that's one more missed opportunity, one more tally for the still-have-to-try-it list. It's a tough job, take it from me. I probably won't be dining frequently in the Venetian or Palazzo now that Lauren's gone, but I will return to Table 10. It's worth it.

top of the strip.

So the Sahara closed. Yesterday. And yes, it is a bit sad. Few of us like to see a piece of Vegas history shut down. The part I don’t like to watch is when locals and visitors alike lament a classic casino going down even though they haven’t patronized the place in ages. You want something to live? Help keep it alive.

I don’t have a strong connection to the Sahara, mostly because there hasn’t been an interesting restaurant there in the last 10 years. (Although the Nascar Cafe did manage to score a visit from TV’s Man vs. Food.) Besides the casino's ownership, which has been at least a little misleading, we can attribute the closing to the fact that other planned North Strip properties -- Echelon, Fontainebleau, MGM’s barely planned project at Sahara Avenue and Las Vegas Boulevard -- never materialized, and therefore it remained isolated from all the action. And now there is a different casino that sits alone on that island, the misunderstood spot on the boulevard between the Strip and Downtown.

But I don’t think the Stratosphere is in trouble. First of all, exactly how would you go about imploding that thing? But seriously, the Strat just dropped a bunch of money into remodeling the rooms, and the casino already was in much better shape than the dilapidated Sahara. Most importantly for us, and people like us, it does have an interesting restaurant. Actually, calling Top of the World interesting is kinda stupid. It's truly unique, 800 feet above the desert floor, and dinner or lunch up here will provide you with unparalleled views of Vegas while munching on exquisite eats. I went for the first time recently. I knew the cuisine was much improved under the kitchen command of chefs Rick Giffen and Claude Gaty, but I just imagined the experience to be ultra-cheesy and inconvenient. Actually, it was an easy stroll through a nice casino, a quick straight shot up in a tiny elevator, and some of the best service I've received in a fine dining destination in the city.

I love that you can go to lunch here. So many big ticket restaurants on the Strip skip the mid-day meal, and this stunning environment seems to scream dinner only. Nope. Even better, the lunchtime menu is fun, not just a defused version of dinner. There are beef tenderloin "carne asada" tacos, excellent crab cakes, and a Vietnamese banh mi-style grilled chicken sandwich (Gaty is a classic French chef with a love for southeast Asia, which is why this baby lands on this menu.). Dinner will get spendy, yes, but prices are comparable to other fantastic dining rooms down the street and frankly, those dining rooms are not as fantastic. Obviously. I recommend the Tower Trio Combination appetizer, one of the most big-time Vegas dishes ever: seared foie gras, one of those meaty crab cakes, and a huge seared scallop. It's pretty heavy, but this is a special occasion kinda joint, so go ahead and splurge. Save room for a kickass ribeye with horseradish crust, and a sublime rack of Colorado lamb with natural jus and a seasoning blend that boggles the mind. There are a lot of options up on the Top, all approachable French-American fusion.

When I sat for dinner, my view peered right down on top of the Sahara. It takes about 80 minutes to revolve all the way around and see all of Vegas, and so I made another turn past the now-closed icon during an amazing meal. I wish the Sahara was still open, but it isn't. That doesn't mean the North Strip is forever dead. This circular motion continues.

INTERVIEW: Alexandra Epstein

Alex Epstein is assistant general manager at the El Cortez Hotel and Casino in downtown Las Vegas.


Downtown redevelopment is characterized by a mix of old and new, vintage Vegas and the thought that new Vegas is old Vegas. The El Cortez is so well positioned for that growth. Do you feel that way?
Yes. I think we embody that whole idea. We have been around for 70 years, this is our 70th anniversary, and we are experiencing a surge, a growth in our demographic. I think that says something, a testament that old Vegas is new again. I think people want to be around here and be part of the changes that are happening. The concept of what we want downtown to be is also not a new concept. Any city that's been around for a while has a cultural core that is their downtown, and now there is this demand for that here. We want Vegas to be an institutionalized city, an actual city that has some history and culture to it, and think there is a demand now to build that into this idea.


Is it difficult to celebrate the history of a place like the El Cortez and yet still appeal to a new, different audience?
I think a big part of looking forward is celebrating that culture and that past. I think it goes hand in hand. Any city's cultural core is forward thinking but celebrates its past, and Vegas just has a different past to celebrate. We have the Mob Museum coming in, we have the Neon Museum, we have Las Vegas' original casinos here, and those things just happen to be our past and our history, and the "cultural class" likes to celebrate that. They like it, and they get it, and they don't really want to escape from that. So I don't think those two concepts are warring with each other. I think it grows quite naturally together.


The El Cortez has been growing and renovating for a while now, huh?
It's a 70-year-old building so we have to do a lot to keep it up. But there really has been a big push in the past five years to renovate. Between our Jackie Gaughan Parkway, our porte cochere, and our Cabana Suites, there has been a lot going on, and quite a strong push in conjunction with the East Fremont development.


Have other organizations and businesses sought out El Cortez as a partner in these downtown developments are have you been more active?
It's been a mix of both. There have been people that have approached us, like the Cornthwaites with the idea of Emergency Arts in that building, and we worked together to make it happen. It's been a great collaboration and a great product we've been able to come out with. Other people have approached us, too, but it's just a very collaborative neighborhood in general. We work together with others like the Ogden across the street. We have welcome packets for their new tenants. We also go out and approach others, like we did with our design competition. We approached World Market Center to work together to do something for the Cabana Suites. So it's a give-and-take.


The restaurants at the El Cortez are pretty classic, your coffee shop and your steakhouse, The Flame.
It's pretty standard but the quality is definitely above standard. You don't really know until you come to the El Cortez what a gem it is. We could put more into marketing our food, and we are actually renovating our steakhouse now, but the food is actually outstanding. We have a great food and beverage director, and we are a family of foodies. This is a family business and we are all about food. We wouldn't want to not be able to eat here.


The coffee shop is really a Vegas institution that seems to be disappearing, and the El Cortez version is one spot that is kinda keeping that old school thing alive.
Our waiters and servers know all of our customers by name, there's that familiarity there. And the quality is there. I will stand by this: our matzoh ball soup is the best in Las Vegas. A lot of people say "Is it as good as Bagel Cafe?" I tell them it's better. And we have a Chinese kitchen, which is kind of a strange and random thing, but it's very popular. Everything at the steakhouse is fresh, never frozen, all of our fish and meat is flown in fresh. The steakhouse really is a gem, too. The service is great, we have a really great wine list with extremely reasonable prices, and that's something we've got a reputation for. Our specials do really well. The stone crab, when it's in season, we fly it in and serve it every week and we usually sell out. For our anniversary, we are putting together a vintage menu, with menu items you can't find anymore like oysters rockefeller. It's really old school stuff. You can ask for the vintage menu now even though we're not advertising it yet. And we're open to suggestions, too. We really researched it. We went to UNLV and looked at all these old menus and then went through all these rounds of tasting to see what we did and didn't want to do. It was pretty extensive.


On East Fremont, there are so many great bars now, and it's really a great crowd down there. But food-wise, there still isn't a lot right around the neighborhood that this group can find.
Not yet. We have great food at The Beat. And Le Thai is going to be a great Thai place when it opens across the street. But we definitely need some more variety. This is going to be a part of town where people come for a great night, for food and drinks, and it just makes sense.


So as someone who is here a lot, and has been to other cities, and as someone who is a foodie, what would you like to see down here?
All kinds of things. I lived in New York for four years and Los Angeles for a year and was very proactive in seeking out great food in those cities. There's a place in L.A. with all different kinds of bratwursts and all different kinds of beer, and really good fries, and that's all it is. In the back is picnic seating, kind of a like a beer garden, with a DJ in back. I thought something like that could work great in downtown Vegas. Any kind of gastropub would be great. But I think we should leave the real high-end stuff to the Strip. A great pizza place, like Settebello, I would love to have that down here. More outdoor cafe-type places would be great, since we have perfect walking areas down here. There are so many things that we could do.


I don't think anyone thinks of downtown as being a great food neighborhood in Las Vegas, and I think the reputation of the El Cortez is more about its history than its restaurants. But what you have done is pave the way for some very significant food and beverage developments downtown, specifically allowing one building your company owns to become Emergency Arts, which houses The Beat Coffeehouse, and also allowing your space to host the Vegas Streats festival every month.
It was a very lucky thing how that worked out. It just made perfect sense. There was no reason for us not to be doing it. We has the perfect space to let these food trucks do what they do. I think Vegas Streats is huge for downtown Vegas. In my mind, it goes beyond just food, because to me food is the most important part of culture. But it's really just about how people live, and food is such a big part of that, so it makes sense for downtown to be where people recognize that it doesn't have to be fancy food to be good. Vegas Streats has exposed thousands of people to really talented chefs and cooks, and if they associate they can come down here and have this great experience with food trucks and really cool old hotels and great bars, that's what we're trying to do -- change people's perspectives.


I'm sure you have a lot of ideas how to change and grow Vegas Streats, but do you think the following is already there?
Yes. The first one, we had so many people we just didn't know what to do with them. We didn't advertise anything and there was no press coverage, so it was all social media and word of mouth. And everybody was asking, when's the next one? The second time we had a lot of questions, a lot of press, a lot of emails after. And now different vendors and artists want to be involved, so we don't know what to expect looking ahead. But we plan on keeping it up, and this is something that downtown really needs. Everyone is working hard down here and really good food is the next direction.


You are a real Las Vegan and you know your way around town. Where else do you like to eat?
I love Sen of Japan and Raku and Monta for Japanese, those are all classics. For Italian, we're big fans of Cafe Chloe on Flamingo and Buffalo. It's been around for a while, and the chef has been here forever. It's Chef Piero, from the original Piero's. It's all homestyle cooking, the portions are huge, the pasta is piping hot when it comes out, there's a lot of garlic and it's just great. And the people are great. It's my favorite Italian place in Las Vegas. I do think the best pizza in the city is at Settebello. I also really like Nittaya's, which is a new place in Summerlin. Every time I've gone there I've had a good meal.


Are you one of the rare Vegas locals who actually eats on the Strip frequently?
I do. You can't hate it just because it's on the Strip. I definitely appreciate everything there is to enjoy on the Strip. We have the best restaurants in the world. To not take advantage of that would be insanity.


Your Strip favorites?
I've enjoyed everything I've had at Cosmopolitan. They do a great job at Milos, Holsteins, STK, Scarpetta.  We go to Wynn a lot. We just had a really good meal at Lakeside Grill. We love SW Steakhouse. Bartolotta, obviously, is amazing. Those are all just really pricey ones, special nights out. There are so many great places.

las gorditas.

I feel like this is overkill, because lately I've been writing a lot about the restaurants in my neighborhood and how impressive they've become. So I guess I should get in the car and drive across town and find some hidden treasure on the east side of Vegas or somewhere in the suburbs of Henderson to share with you. I'll work on it. Until then, look what else I found just down the street!


Actually, Las Gorditas is not just close to me. There are four of these restaurants in a few different neighborhoods, so you can claim one as your own. These are very simple little Mexican joints, as casual as the cheapest taco shop you've ever wandered into, hoping for tasty authentic treats. The food is simple, too, and very good. The tacos are small, perfect bites, wrapped in two tiny corn tortillas, filled with your choice of meat and covered in cilantro, onions and "guacamole sauce." Do I have a problem recommending tacos with "guacamole sauce?" No. No I don't. There are burritos, quesadillas, and other familiar items, but as you have guessed, the gorditas are in the spotlight.


A Taco Bell gordita is not really a gordita. It's supposed to be a soft, flat disc of fried or griddle-cooked masa, essentially a thicker, freshly made tortilla, stuffed with lots of different things. I've made them at home in a slightly different form known as arepas in Venezuela and Columbia, but it's basically the same dish. It's not far from a Salvadoran pupusa, which is usually thicker and completely sealed up, masa enveloping the filling. These gorditas are open at one end for something of a sandwich effect. In fact, I had a red pork gordita recently at China Poblano in the Cosmopolitan hotel, and it was listed on the menu as a sandwich. And the popular hole in the wall Los Antojos serves very tasty, if much more greasy gorditas, deep fried for a rich, kinda cornbread effect. Here at the Las Gorditas, they are not greasy. The flavor is clean and there's a nice chew through the corny goodness. I tried gorditas with chicken mole, tender cactus in a tomato-chile red sauce, chicken simmered in a green chile sauce, and melty cheese and refried beans. All of them were tasty, satisfying soul food snacks, and I estimate I could eat about a dozen before giving up. Maybe not that many, but they sure are good and easy. That's how I like my Mexican food.

a brief and charming history of marche bacchus.

UPDATE: Jean-Paul Labadie is no longer chef at Marche Bacchus.

Once upon a time in a place with the charmingly oxymoronic name of Desert Shores, there was a small, charming French cafe called Marche Bacchus. It was once a tiny market and sandwich shop in a nondescript little village of a shopping center, until a charming French couple, Gregoire and Agathe Verge, molded it into a very cool wine shop and bistro. The food was pretty good, the wine selection was fun and affordable, and the people in the neighborhood fell in love. They would come and enjoy the view of the man-made lake from the charming patio, and munch on fresh baguette with brie, slurp onion soup and devour sweet lobster salad tucked into buttery croissants. It was determined that Marche Bacchus was a neighborhood jewel, a hidden treasure in the Las Vegas dining landscape.


Then the owners decided to move back to France. The people were afraid their charming restaurant would go away. In fact, two of those people loved it so much, they decided to buy it in order to keep it the same. But they didn't do that. Jeff and Rhonda Wyatt actually made it better. They got more wine. They made that charming patio bigger, and installed protective measures so the people in the neighborhood could enjoy being outside even more than seven months out of the year. And they hired a chef (Jean Paul Labadie) with extensive experience at Emeril Lagasse's restaurants and just the right mix of precision and creativity. He kept the lobster croissants, onion soup and great platters of cheese and charcuterie, and added his own spice and flavor with dishes like chicken and sausage gumbo, pan roasted Idaho trout, braised short ribs with blue cheese mashed potatoes, and the big daddy: a seared duck breast with a dressing of foie gras and brioche and brandy-cherry glaze. Whoa. That's more than charming. (And this is the only place in Las Vegas where you can eat duck while making friends with one as he swims by.)


And, happily ever after, we eat this food.

Escargot baked in garlic herb butter.

One of my favorite things anywhere, the Gourmande Bacchus plate: brie and blue and other cheeses, two kinds of pate and other charcuterie, that damn addictive lobster salad, apples, cornichons, olives, yes please. You need more than one basket of bread to knock this out.

Seriously delicious trout.

Bread pudding, apple crisp with ice cream and Grand Marnier flourless chocolate cake.

dinner at payard.

Sometimes you'll read about a Las Vegas casino restaurant and it'll be described as a "hidden gem on the Strip." This sounds like an impossibility; how could something be hidden on Las Vegas Boulevard, one of the biggest, brightest dining spots on the planet? Well, it happens. Sometimes excellence gets lost in the shuffle, and sometimes there's a truly perfect little restaurant quietly cranking out amazing food under multiple layers of casino hype.

Payard Bistro is the epitome of a Strip hidden gem. It is known more as a coffee-and-sweets shop, with a tiny circular dining room perfect for an easy lunch or brunch. Seven months ago, a simple dinner service began. Our meal there last night was one of the best we've ever had on the Strip, bite-for-bite, a clinic on how to do French bistro fare. Enjoy:

Roasted chicken, overwhelmingly juicy with a sublime crispy skin, with fried potatoes and a bit of perserved lemon in the natural jus.

Filet mignon au poivre with buttery potato pave and haricot verts.

Adorable frisee salad with Nueske bacon and poached egg.

Best mac and cheese of all time. OF ALL TIME.

Pont Neuf.

Cheese souffle, all about parmesan. Wifey: "From now on, I have cheese souffle with all my meals."

George V. Chocolate masterpiece, with peanuts.