The most interesting thing about Comme Ça (pronounced kohm sah, meaning: “like that”) is that it isn’t afraid to challenge Bouchon and Mon Ami Gabi at their own game, i.e., classic French bistro food. That Comme Ça thinks it can do so within a stone’s throw of one (MAG) and just a half mile from the other (Bouchon) is a testament to the confidence of a baby faced, American/Californian chef named David Myers.
After contemplating all this Gallic competition, you’ll next notice CC’s classic menu — straight from the Rive Gauche in Paris: steak frites, omelets, soupe à l’oignon, steak tartare, that is a dead ringer for much of the same fare at the other two. The third thing you’ll notice is the more aggressive seasonings Myers brings to that highly similar fare, like his steak tartare, and finally, after noticing all of those things, you’ll see that everything seems to be being done on a slightly higher, and tastier plane than at Mon Ami Gabi (no small feat that), and can compete, tartare to tartare with anything Bouchon can throw at you.
After you’ve taken notice of all that, then swooned over your crispy skate wing Grenobloise — sharply accented by capers and lemon, and bathed in brown butter — and sat up and savored every last lardon in your salad frisee, you’ll get knocked out by how @#$% fantastic the burger and fries are.
Those fries are twice-fried in peanut oil, crisping them to a fare thee well, while allowing a strong potato flavor to burst from within. Dusted with some fleur de sel, they are as addictive as any fries in town….and our staff believes they could foil Bouchon’s in a french fry face-off. That burger is a flat out, mineral-rich, beefy, juicy delight, on a gorgeous lacquered bun, and dripping with good cheese. In a town now dripping with good ground meat, it is one of the best.
Equally arresting are the chicken diable and cheesy onion soup, along with a tarte flambée that even Hubert Keller would have to admire. When VEGAS magazine editor Abby Tegnelia ordered the chicken, we scoffed at her pedestrian choice. But two bites later, and we were converted. Its peppery crust might not pass muster in Gay*Paree (Parisians run away at the mere mention of a hot pepper), but provides a nice, multi-cultural kick to a superior piece of chicken meat. The basil and mustard sauces might also curl a Frenchman’s toes, but were carefully rendered and disappointing only in there not being more of them.
We at ELV admit to being a little biased towards bistro food — we’ve probably spent more time in Parisian bistros that most people spend in restaurants their entire lives — but we also know this cuisine about as well as an American can, so when we say this Myer kid knows his way around a properly made omelet, or can sauté like a son-of-a-bitch (and/or train his people to do so), you can take it to the Left Bank.
In The Ultimate Gourmet Food Court in The Cosmopolitan Hotel and Casino
3708 Las Vegas Blvd. South
Las Vegas, NV 89109
* As in: sparkling, effervescent, and possessed of mirth and levity.