It’s no secret, ELV has a thing for pastry chefs. From Francois Payard to Frederic Robert to Kamel Guechida to Gregory Gorreau to Philippe Angibeau, we think the panoply of Vegas’ palatial pastry perfection is palpable.
ELV’s bad dishes were few and far between in 2010. There were those tightly-packed, overcooked, fusion burgers at that unexplainably popular “burger” spot in town…that also made us suffer through its pure, greasy pork fat (inexplicably called pork bellies) on a steamed bun.
If there’s a better way to celebrate the end of the year than with box of Joel Robuchon’s handmade chocolates, neither ELV nor his staff has found one.
Happy New Year’s Eve Eve from Eating Las Vegas!
ELV, as is wont, shifts from high brow to low (and everything in between) at the blink of an eye. Therefore, we thought our loyal readers, after cogitating over 18th Century philosophical treatieses, might like to take a gander at Kaytee…both because she’s easy on the eyes (to say the least), and because you might enjoy her highly advanced professionalism after straining to understand writers who are a lot smarter than you and me.
ELV NOTE: The following is an analysis of why critics and critical standards are necessary/desirable when applying a qualitative analysis to any object being judged — be it art, music or even food.
It was written by our #2 son as part of his master’s program in Philosophy at UNM (Go Lobos!), and uses lots of big words like “explication” and “sine qua non,” but our staff found it fascinating, nonetheless.
As restaurants criticism was still 50 years away when David Hume wrote his original essay, this analysis must be read with that in mind, but can easily be applied to food writing/criticism as well. it may be heavy sledding at times, but will give you something to chew on (and chew on and chew on), whilst ELV is traveling for the next ten days.
Critical Standards:
Hume and the Judgment of Taste
By Hugh Alexander Curtas (The Official Number Two Son of ELV)
The proceeding analysis will perform two roles with regard to David Hume’s 1757 essay “Of the Standard of Taste.” First, an explication of Hume’s notion of the “true critic” will be undertaken in order to pinpoint the role this important ideal plays in his overall theory. Second, I will argue that Hume’s conception of the true critic is a robust standard for artistic judgment that, in lieu of some minor alterations, should remain a regulative ideal for all aesthetic encounters.
The true critic is essential to Hume’s overall theory concerning a standard of taste because the true critic is himself the standard. Or, more precisely, it is the “joint verdict” of such true critics that “is the true standard of taste and beauty.”[1] Leaving aside, for the moment, the problem concerning whether or not such a critical consensus could actually exist, we must identify the ideal critic’s constitutive qualities.
We at ELV thought Sumatra was a West Indonesian island.
Silly us.
She is certainly neither, but simply another successive reason to sup, sip and take sustenance at the succulently satisfying D.O.C.G. in The Cosmo.
And be seated by her, of course
Which, she says, will be just super with her superiors.
So she’ll see us soon.
Just like Stacy’s mom, Holstein’s, the gastro-pub disguised as a big, boffo burger joint in The Cosmo, has got it goin’ on.
House-made charcuterie is only the tip of the iceberg. Six kinds of sausage are made in-house — ranging from Greek touri to French toulouse — and the mini-Chicago dogs are a way to satisfy your Chi-town fix without ingesting a carbo bomb — as long as you split one order three ways.
The dry-aged, “Gold Standard” burger is made with 21 day old dry aged beef from Imperial Meats in L.A. — to which choice chuck and scraps from other prime sirloin and rib eyes are added — bringing forth a clean, bright, rich burger beauty. Some might argue it’s too loaded (with smoked bacon, garlic-chive aioli and aged goat cheddar cheese) to take its place in the pantheon of Vegas’ perfect burgers, but there’s no doubting the quality of the grind and the juiciness of the result.
We also were taken with the pork belly buns — almost as good as Momofuku’s and miles better than what is peddled by certain popular purveyors off the Strip. And the radicchio salad — a big tangle of fresh purple red greens(?) showered with sheets of decent Parm, crawling with croutons, and awash in a strong, sherry-balsamic vinaigrette — might be the best salad ever conceived in a burger joint…anywhere. Even Laurent Tourondel – no slouch when it comes to building a better burger bar — was impressed.
And the desserts were no slouches either. The “Fat Elvis” comes complete with a microwaved brownie and peanut butter pudding, and the fromage blanc cheesecake-in-a-bowl is a gimmick that works….because it tastes so damn good.
Was Executive Chef Anthony Meidenbauer strutting his stuff for us? Of course, but that burger blend is there for everyone, the duck fat fries are a different, richer, and no less addictive take on the potato than Comme Ça’s, and the mini-shakes make a ton of sense for those wanting to indulge, albeit in a more restrained, mini-milk way.
As befitting a joint that hopes to do a thousand covers a day, the menu is broad and long and probably over-extends itself in trying to please everyone. You can get everything from a “New Dehli” chicken sandwich to a kalbi quesadilla here, but for our dinero (and rupees), we suggest restricting yourself to the ground and fermented wonders of this meat-market-par-excellence. But word to the wise: skip the vegetarian “Urth” burger. It tastes exactly like you would expect something to taste which is trying to be (and be spelled) like something it is not.
Other than that minor misstep, ELV must confess he knows it might be wrong, but he’s in love with Holstein’s buns.
LT picked up the check for one meal, and the other was comped.
HOLSTEIN’S
In The Cosmopolitan Hotel and Casino
3708 Las Vegas Blvd. South
Las Vegas, NV 89109
702.698.7940
ELV has great hopes for the future of downtown dining. But keep in mind, ELV has had high hopes for the future of downtown dining 15 times in the past 30 years.
Until a game changer comes along (like The Plaza, we’re hoping), we’ll content ourselves with the meagre pickins available north of Charleston — stone crabs at El Cortez, El Sombrero’s green chile, The Beat’s sandwiches — and the absolutely, positively, no-doubt-about-it-best-flapjacks-and-French-toast available, practically….anywhere.
This pain perdue (“lost bread” as the frogs call it) is so crispy without and custard-y within, one order won’t be enough. For you avid home cooks, here’s a tasty and easy-to-follow recipe that will have your family clamoring for more.
But wait, there’s more!
Not only does Du-par’s do superior breakfast food, its chicken pot pies, patty melt, meatloaf and club sandwiches are also things of beauty….and perfect for a downtown lunch or late-night dinner…especially after pounding a few highbrow libations up and down all those classy joints lining Fremont.
Artful cuisine, this is not. Rather, it is rib-sticking diner food made with good ingredients, and some pride in the kitchen. Something rare indeed along this boulevard of broken dreams.
Mainly ELV’s.
Our lunch for five with food enough for seven came to $81.00, and we left a $19.00 tip.
DU-PAR’S
In the Golden Gate Hotel and Casino
1 Fremont Street
Las Vegas, NV 89101
702.366.9378
Restaurant reviews, quips, picks and pans-with some seriously salivating history-from the man who eats his way through Sin City every day.
