I’ll never forget the day the music died. The day the magic left. The day I realized that great food, restaurants and chefs in Vegas was just a big p.r. game, being played to the hilt by our big hotels. The day I realized that it was no longer about the food, it was all about celebrities shilling for that food.
Unfortunately, it was Emeril Lagasse — the man who put the “celebrity” in “chef” — who taught me that lesson. For it was Emeril who first seduced and then disappointed me, and therein lies a cautionary tale that I have yet to tell until now.
