The List – Where We’re Eating and Why

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(If people could read my mind…I’d get punched in the face a lot)

It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? Seven months to be precise. Lots of travel (Scotland, Rome, London, Venice, Milan, Vancouver, Nantucket, Connecticut – just to name a few stops) since last we posted something, but we haven’t been idle, even if we don’t eat, report, and repeat like we did in the halcyon years of 2008-2020. These days (when we’re in town), we mainly put our energies into podcasting — gab-festing every week about where we’ve eaten on Eat. Talk. Repeat. (Which, from our completely objective perspective, is the liveliest restaurant podcast around.)

As any writer will tell you: talking is tons more fun than writing, and why everyone from Kato Kaelin to D-list actresses have one. Or maybe it’s because listening is easier than reading(?).

Regardless, we’ve always found podcasts (even ours) to be a poor vehicle for imparting accessible information in condensed form. Such as a list of what we consider the best/most important restaurants of 2025. So here goes, roughly in order of their newness, excellence, level of cooking, and importance to the Vegas food scene.

Unlike past years, we no longer scurry to and fro, trying to eat/try every worthy restaurant in Las Vegas. These days we pick our spots, so consider this more highly personal than comprehensive. Some places we adore (Guy Savoy, Ferraro’s, Main Street Provisions, et al) are still wonderful, we just haven’t been in a while. What you’ll get here is places I’ve been to recently (i.e., the last seven months) and to which I intend to return. All are worth your time and money if you seek the best Vegas has to offer.

And, as usual, if you’re looking for washed up celebrity chef retreads, forced fun (Hello, supper clubs!), or some place you “heard was good” from some bizarre “influencer ” who speaks like an annoying four-year old, you’ve come to the wrong place.

(As always, all places come highly recommended unless otherwise noted.)

THE LIST – 2025

 

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1. TAMBA – Calvin Trillin once wrote that the average Italian restaurant gets more customers in a night than most Indian joints see in a month. Four decades on, not much has improved. Indian food – one of the world’s great cuisines –  was, for years, so underrepresented in America as to be almost invisible. Urban areas had their tandoori parlors and AYCE buffets, but that was about it. But the tide may be turning. Indian food, the refined, intricate, delicate cuisine of the sub-continent, might be having a moment, here and elsewhere, and Tamba is showing why.

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Tamba has as much in common with your standard, cookie cutter curry shop as a Bentley does with a Dodge Dart. This is apparent from the second you step inside. Instead of nonstop Bollywood videos, what confronts you is an elegant, subdued restaurant replete with overstuffed chairs, refined flatware and an eye-popping bar that would be right at home in the Bellagio.

From there Chef Anand Singh flies you around the sub-continent (and even into China), dabbling in everything from upscale tuna sushi with smoked sea salt to artichoke sashimi to marinated goat biryani. Spicings are precise, presentations polished, and the multi-layered flavorings a revelation. (A one-curry-fits-all stop this is not.) You can go conventional (intriguing Samosa Chaat, soothing butter chicken) or unique (grilled Afghani saffron paneer, banana leaf-wrapped sea bass, Josper-grilled octopus with purple cauliflower), and be assured that whatever hits your table will probably be like nothing Vegas has ever tasted.

Modern Indian like this has been the rage in England for twenty years. Vegas may be late to the party, but with Tamba and  the arrival of  Gymkanha to the Aria later this year,  the festivities promise to continue for even longer than an Indian wedding.

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2. BAR BOHEME – There were two important restaurant openings this year, and BB was the other one. Fine French and local Las Vegas have generally been as compatible as slot machines and opera, and breaths are being held as to whether James Trees’ ode to haute bourgeois cooking signals a pivot to more serious gastronomy,  or whether we are  forever consigned to the steakhouse/Italian circle of hell.  The Strip is no longer driving the culinary conversation; places like Bar Boheme (and its sister restaurant Ada’s) have taken the reigns….and where they take us is anyone’s guess.

Image(Cheesus Christ that’s good soup!)

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3. STUBBORN SEED  – is the kind of place where the chef (Jeremy Ford) makes a splash out of town (in this case, Miami), wins a TV cooking competition (Top Chef season 13), gets recruited by Vegas bigwigs to bring his concept to a giant hotel (Resorts World) in hopes of enhancing the cred (and pocketbooks) of the chef, the concept and the hotel. The food (like the room) is stylish and comfortable without being overthought or overwrought. This is high-wire, aggressive, veggie-focused cooking (but not strictly vegetarian), and Ford clearly has the chops for it.

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He freely mixes his food metaphors and clearly has a thing for intricacy, playing with odd combinations (and lots of leafy accents) that always seem to work.Thus will you find carrots charred with jerk seasonings and spiced yogurt (above) , and a whole cauliflower (also above) roasted with a cashew puree, then garnished with every herb in the garden.

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His proteins don’t miss any beats either: a foie gras/truffle tart (above) reminiscent of a pb&j, brown butter branzino, and a slow-cooked smoked beef rib (priced-to-sell at $85) are better than anything you’ll find in most steakhouses. None of this is cheap, but compared to most Strip restaurants these days, it feels like a bargain for cooking this complex and compelling.  Definitely the most interesting Strip restaurant to open this year, and we are rooting for it to find an audience.

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4. PISCES – Perhaps I’m getting soft in my old age, but I found more to praise than bury in our two meals here. The setting will pop your eyeballs, the service about as efficient as a 300 seater can have, and the Greek-French-Spanish-Italian-something-for-everyone-mash-up menu is a fun read. What also pops are the prices — $120 Dover sole, $34 crudo, and a grab-your-ankles wine list that should be presented with a tube of K-Y.

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You are in the Wynncore, after all, where bargains are rarer than inconspicuous consumption, and the upscale crowd practically demands to be overcharged. Unsurprisingly, most of the Greek offerings (Horatiki salad, Gigante beans, the sea bream, aka Orata) is done better at Milos, and the paella ($155) is far more authentic (and cheaper) at Jaleo. But the fish is as fresh as it gets, this far from an ocean, and the desserts are in a class by themselves.

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5. CARAMÁ – Nowadays, no one likes to bag on the Strip more than yours truly, but the second best Italian food we had this year was at this Wolfgang Puck outpost in Mandalay Bay. It’s an all-purpose Italian, befitting the requirements of Big Hotel, but Puck’s troops have always been great technicians, and their proficiency with the whole spectrum of Italian gastronomy — from the top shelf salumi to squab (pictured above) to dolce to die for –is evident from the first bite. Are we going to drive to the ends of the Strip to eat here? Probably not. But the food is way better than it has to be for this hotel’s slack-jawed, lanyard crowd.

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6. JOËL ROBUCHCON – Without Joel Robuchon there would have been no Guy Savoy, Mario Batali, or Bradley Ogden. Without JR there would be no James Beard recognition, no José Andrés, Bobby Flay, and no Steve Wynn trying (for a time) to turn the Wynncore into a gourmet mecca. Wynn and Gamal Aziz may have started Las Vegas’s restaurant revolution in 1994-1999, but it was Robuchon, coming out of retirement to launch his international concepts (L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon and his namesake 3-etoile jewel box) IN LAS VEGAS(!), that made all the headlines, and brought the world’s food media to our door.

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No one, except influencers looking for a free meal, gets excited about Strip restaurant openings anymore. But Robuchon coming here was a very big deal, and now, twenty years on, its cooking, decor, and service still have the capacity to astonish. This is rarefied air dining, and the tariffs are steep, but a la carte selections ease the pain (and the calories), and for better haute cuisine (and mignardises like these), you’ll have to travel to Paris:

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7. ADA’S FOOD+WINE – Wine Goddess Kat Thomas and chef Jackson Stamper are doing something very special at AFW. If it were in any other city, the accolades and awards would flow like Franciacorta. In Vegas, it’s just another gem struggling to find and audience among people with more money than taste. Its escape from the  Tivoli Village ghost town (and to Arts District digs) can’t come soon enough.

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8. VETRI CUCINA – We love Vetri. even if it’s harder to get to than Henderson at rush hour. But it’s still the best Italian in town, and for that reason alone, it rates a wave.

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9. WINEAUX – has everything you’d ever want in a wine bar: comfy setting, good feng shui, lots of interesting bottles at all price points, thoughtful, handcrafted small plates to nibble on, attentive service. The only thing it needs is to be closer to my house.

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10. LE CLUB BY PARTAGE – IS closer to my house. And a jewel box filled with fine champagnes, and delicate French food to compliment them. The steak tartare (above) is straight from Paris, and the grilled oysters and mini-cheeseburger (topped with a nugget of foie gras) are worth a trip all by themselves.

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11. ANIMA BY EDO – We don’t go the ABE much because it’s both too far and far too annoying to travel to, no matter how good the Spanish-Italian mashup food (and wine) is. But no list of the best restaurants in Vegas is complete without it.

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Image(Ash Watkins and Gio, not exactly weeping in their wine)

12. MONZÙ – Gio Mauro (operatic by nature, in talent and temperament) literally performs a passion play nightly, straight out of “Big Night”. His clientele are the cognoscenti, who recognize his genius with pizzas, pastas, proteins, and wine. One block away is Nora’s, his family’s other restaurant, strictly for the red sauce, chicken parm, and pepperoni crowd. Guess which one has more customers than the bacon cheeseburger egg roll concession at the Iowa State Fair? It’s enough to make me weep into my Barolo.

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13. SPICY ZEST – wins our award for surprise of the year. Tucked into the side panel of a giant strip mall on south Rainbow/Warm Springs, nothing (from the location to the tells-you-nothing odd ball name) prepares you for what’s inside — which is some of the best Szechuan food in town. Sleek, spotless, and friendly, with food that will blow your head off (in a good way).  Everything from the hot and sour soup to the Szechuan boiled fish (above) comes to the table looking like someone in the kitchen really cares, and is not just going through the motions. A real find.

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14. THE PEPPER CLUB – Italian with a kick, rapidly morphing into a downtown power lunch spot. The spicy spaghetti (pictured above) is the truth, as are the stracciatella cheese app, and pork meatballs. If you insist, the (sooo cheugy) chicken parm get raves from the cringe crowd (see what we did there?), but we prefer the double-cut pork chop, and the carpaccio. Service can be well–meaning but spotty, but even at its slowest, it’s a great alternative when you can’t get into Esther’s, for either lunch or dinner. FYI: Despite what the sign says, Todd English hasn’t had anything to do with the place for years.

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15. RAKU – There’s a reason The Food Gal® (pictured above) and I go to Raku every year for her birthday. And the reason is it’s the best Japanese food in town.

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16. HIROYOSHI – doesn’t have the sushi chops of Kabuto, nor the izakaya game of Raku, but for a legitimate slice of Japan in the ‘burbs, it’s tough to beat. The $100 sashimi platter (below) is what everyone gets, for good reason. The house made appetizers, especially the steamed mushrooms, and tempura are not to be missed.

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Image(The Great Vincenzo, and some Luddite in a ball cap) 

17. CIPRIANI – Almost every Friday (when we’re in town) we’re here for lunch. And the reason is deliciously simple Italian food, the way it’s supposed to be.

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18. PUBLICUS – The Food Gal® is nuts about their coffee and their toasts (avocado and otherwise), so every Sunday morn, that’s where you’ll find us. Yearly winner of The Best Restaurant In The Worst Location In Town award.

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19. ESTHER’S KITCHEN – “No one goes there anymore. It’s too crowded.” – Yogi Berra

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20. SOULBELLY BBQthe best ‘cue in Vegas. Don’t even think about arguing with me about this.

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21. WILD FIG BBQthe second best ‘cue in Vegas. But skip the sausage, it’s terrible. If you want to argue about the rest of the meats v. SoulBelly, we’ll at least allow the discussion.

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22. WINNIE & ETHEL’S – the ultimate breakfast and lunch diner is now open for dinner!

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Image(Chef Ivan has got the meats!)

23. DELMONICO – 26 years old and better than ever. The steaks (and Louisiana specialties) are superb. Service never misses a beat. And the cheeseburger in a league of its own. And by “league of its own” we mean it won out our 2025 Best Steakhouse Burger at Eat. Talk. Repeat. over some very rare and well-done competition. There might be a better double-smashed cheeseburger somewhere in Vegas, but from the beefiness to the bun, we haven’t tasted it. And we’ve tasted them all.

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24. CARVERSTEAK – In a crowded category, Carversteak gets our nod for the best all-around steakhouse. From its serious booze and wine programs, to the inventive apps (crab with caviar, above, would be right at home on an upscale tasting menu) and major league proteins, no beef emporium does as many things as well as this big hitter, tucked into a corner of Resorts World.

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25. PETER LUGER – Argue all you want about the dated menu (which we find charming), but no one ages their steaks better. Fight me.

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26. HARLO  – The next time some knucklehead starts telling you how great Barry’s, The Steakhouse or Golden Steer is, do what I do: tell ’em to “Go eat at Harlo and then we’ll talk.”

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27. MAE DALY’S – the anti-Golden Steer, with no Instagram-addicted crowds congratulating themselves because, “they heard it was good.” There, I said it. Also, parking is easy (and free!), but tip the valet just like the old days. Get the grilled oysters and a burger as appetizers (like we always do), and thank me later.

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28. RINCON DE BUENOS AIRES – In many ways, the anti-Vegas-steakhouse — informal, fun, friendly, and reasonable. Also very accommodating to the BYO crowd, even if their priced-to-sell Malbecs match perfectly with the meat. Ideal for a crowd of carnivores, looking for exotic ways to make their hearts beat faster.  You’d better like soccer though, and pity the fool who mistakes the poster of Diego Maradona for Pelé.

Maradona GIFs | Tenor

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29. YEN VIET KITCHEN – Not your typical pho parlor. Not even your typical Vietnamese. Tiny with zero social media presence, but a loyal following of Southeast Asian regs who know the good stuff…like Chinese sausage and pork on sticky rice (above).

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30. LAMAII – never disappoints and always has the most intriguing wines to match with its incendiary food. No one leaves without getting the crab fat fried rice (above). Our favorite Thai on Spring Mountain Road.

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31. MOIA – guaranteed to quench your Peruvian food jones even if it has the second worst location in town (after PublicUs). Get the ceviche or  tiraditos or Papa a la Huancaina (potatoes in yellow pepper cheese sause) and thank us later. Dive into the seafood only at your own risk, or only if you’re familiar with Peruvian food. As with every Peruvian restaurant we’ve ever tried, lots of things sound much better than they taste.

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32. LETTY’S TACOS – if you find a better quesobirria taco in town, let me know.

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33. CAFE BREIZH Kouign Amann (above). ‘Nuff said. Also, the best cappucino in town. And pastries. And baguettes.

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34. THE DAILY BREAD – a thumbnail breakfast/lunch joint with serious (in-house) baked goods (e.g. Las Vegas’s best foccacia, above). We don’t know how Scott Commings makes a living out of this crackerbox of a bakery/deli, but we’re glad he does.

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35. NOM PANG – Cambodian sandwiches (which taste a lot like Vietnamese sandwiches, stuffed as they are with greenery and bevy of unidentifiable lunch meats) have found a home on N. Rancho Dr. — in the least likely Southeast Asia sammie spot imaginable. The made-to-order soups and stews are a treat, too, even if occasionally you won’t know what you’re eating.

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36. XIANG WEI XUAN – There are two ways to approach Chinatown/Spring Mountain Road: spend thirty years traveling and trying everything up and down its 3 mile stretch (and get so good you can spot a corporate/franchise at 100 yards), OR have friends like Dave the Great who speaks Mandarin and can spot the real deal in Hunanese cooking from a mile out. We discovered XWX the first way, but have learned to love it even more when our friend translates the menu for us. As Gen Z would say: This place is frfr (“for real for real”), no cap.
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SPECIAL BOOZE-CENTRIC ADDENDUM:
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37. DOWNTOWN MIXOLOGY CRAWL
Jammyland
–  Esther’s Kitchen
– Main Street Provisions
– Echo Taste & Sound (pictured above)
– Bar Ginza
– Petit Boheme (top of the page)
– Liquid Diet
– Nocturno
– The Creamery
– The Doberman
– Stray Pirate
….plus a few we probably missed. The cocktail bars in DTLV have gotten so good, I almost wish I was an alcoholic.
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So, that’s the best of the best of where we’ve been dining (and drinking) this year, and why we love them so. For the other side of the coin, keep reading.
The Bottom 7
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Battista’s – Wine without alcohol, coffee-free cappuccino, veal Marsala in search of Marsala….Battista’s (“temporarily closed”) continues to be a big hit with a certain type of basic mouth breather who loves it that way.
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Casa Playa – 4 skimpy apps + 1 decent drink = $140. For mid Mexican. The prosecution rests.

Emmit’s – By-the-numbers food in an awkward setting aimed at sheeple drawn to past-their-prime celebrity brands like fentanyl  to Fremont Street. Sorry/not sorry, Mr. Washed-Up Athlete, the world is not dying for another mid-brand steakhouse, no matter how many fans you had in 1993.

Cafe Landwer – IHOP with a bad Israeli accent. And not cheap. You have been warned.

Lotus of Siam (Red Rock) – You sell your soul when you sell your brand to Big Hotel, a lesson the Chutima family has learned the hard way. If only there had been a food writer/lawyer with decades of experience in the restaurant/law/contract business to advise them not to do it…

Irv’s Burgers – People line up for what is, at best, the 43rd best cheeseburger in Vegas.

Jessie Rae’s BBQ – One of my fave sayings (forever) has been, “Barbecue is like sex: the worst I ever had was still pretty good.” At least it was until I dumped an entire platter of this slop in the garbage.

Soooo….that’s really it.

Have you not been influenced?

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The 10 Commandments of Dining…and then some

AI Illustration of Moses with the 10 Commandments Tablet. Source: Jim Vallee/Adobe Stock(Thou. Shalt. Not. Manscape.)

Thou shall have no other gods before me

Ya gotta love Christian theology: they put the big one up front. Don’t even think of listening to anyone but me!  I am the oracle. The master. The Obi–Wan/Yoda to your Luke Skywalker. No matter what the rest of them say, they’re wrong and I have all the answers.

Sounds about right. Come to think about it, I am a lot like Moses, albeit with better manscaping.

To not believe in me condemns you to a life in purgatory, or worse, eating substandard pasta.

Admittedly, I am not as active as I once was, but Yoda was holed up in that shithole Dagobah for decades and could still wield his laser sword. And even if I’ve lost a little off my fastball, if you’re taking advice on restaurants from some paid influencer, or worse, some chesty chick with a big following, you’re barking up the wrong tits.

Thou shall not make unto thee any graven image of celebrity chefs

full throttle saloon kitchen GIF (Squeeze gently for ripeness)

“We’re coming to town, and my wife wants to eat in a Bobby Flay/Giada/Gordon Ramsay restaurant,” is a refrain I hear all the time. Fair enough. These brands didn’t get to where they are by putting out experiences which range from the ethereal (Guy Savoy, Bazaar Meat) to the service-ably mundane (anything by Gordon Ramsay). And when you hale from  Bumfudge, Indiana, Vegas is one of the few cities in American where you can sample a gigantic range of cuisines, from franchises which have now spanned decades. But in Vegas, as elsewhere, the shine has dimmed on many of these stars, and the more interesting cooking is going on in places that aren’t the 15th incarnation of an idea that was hatched twenty years ago.

Instead of Gordon Ramsay Steak, try Mae Daly’s, Scotch 80 Prime, Harlo, Nicco’s.

Estiatorio Milos is great, but you won’t need a second mortgage to eat similar fare at  Elia Authentic Greek Taverna or Naxos Taverna.

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Instead of Amalfi by Bobby Flay (which I like), or Giada (which I don’t), give Balla (Sahara), Matteo’s (Venetian), Ferraro’s, Basilico, Milano, Aromi, Esther’s Kitchen, Al Solito Posto, or Cipriani (Wynn) a whirl for top-flight Italian which doesn’t break the bank.

Instead of limping through Bellagio, or getting lost in the maze of Caesars Palace’s infuriating hallways, go to Fountainebleau. You’ll still be gouged out the wazoo, but the decor, the service, and the concepts are much fresher than all those tired celeb warhorses — relics of the 90s and early aughts still going through the motions to please their corporate overlords.

Thou shall not take the name of Joël Robuchon in vain.

French cuisine elevated Las Vegas to status on the world’s gastronomic stage previously thought impossible. And despite it hardly flourishing here, we still sport four of the best French restaurants in the country in our backyard: Joël Robuchon, L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon, Restaurant Guy Savoy, and Bouchon. Insider tip: Brasserie by Bobby Flay ain’t half bad, either. Although getting to it, inside Caesars, is a pain in the baguette.

Honor thy Sabbath Day, keep it holy, but forget about brunch.

Image(Brunch? Non. Croissants? Oui!)

Overwrought pancakes? Eggs nine ways? Bottomless mimosas? Brunch is just a way for a restaurant to clean out its larder and overcharge for omelets and shitty Prosecco. F**k brunch and go have a real meal (and better croissants) at:

Bouchon

Winnie’s and Ethel’s

Cafe Breizh

PublicUs

Chamana’s Café

Daily Bread

1228 Main (Pictured above – Winner of the Croissant Crawl ’24 on Eat. Talk. Repeat.)

Burgundy French Bakery and Cafe

Le Cafe du Val/Le Cafe du Sud

The only thing worse than brunch is a jazz brunch.

Episode 2 Brunch GIF by The Simpsons

Thou shall NOT honor they father and mother….

…unless they were good cooks. Or knew a thing or two about good restaurants. Otherwise, forget everything you learned at the family table and all the boring-ass food you were served there. Picky eaters are bred, not born. Kick your parents to the curb (culinary wise) and you’ll be happier for it.

Thou shall not kill…cooking and cuisines which have developed over hundreds, even thousands of years solely to bring you pleasure

You are not there to “have it your way.” You are there because the people serving you are better at choosing, seasoning and cooking food than you are. And for this, attention must be paid and respect given. You want special food which fits your specific dietary needs? Stay home and cook it yourself. There are entire continents (Europe, Asia…) where people who go out to eat simply order and eat what is put in front of them. Only in America does the “can’t eat something” culture flourish. And flourish it has. Restaurants from Tokyo to Rome now reflexively ask diners if they have “any dietary restriction,” as if your inability to eat shrimp is somehow their problem.

Thou shall commit gastro-adultery…

…by being absolutely faithless to one form of cooking or eating. The world of Las Vegas restaurants (like the human body) is a playground to be taken advantage of — indulging with every whim or immediate gratification fantasy you’ve ever had (within reason, of course). Sticking to a fave restaurant, dish, or routine is like the Missionary position: functional but boring.

Thou shall not steal

From thyself or thy restaurant. Bargain hunting, 2-for-1s, early-bird specials, coupons, etc. is a fool’s paradise which cheats you and the people working hard to feed you.

John Ruskin said it best: There is hardly anything in the world that some man cannot make a little worse and sell a little cheaper, and the people who consider price only are this man’s lawful prey.

Do yourself a favor. Look for quality, the best you can afford, when it comes to things you put inside your mouth. Your body will thank you later.

Thou shall not bear false witness…of whatever “special needs” you claim to have.

See above. Face it: You only like to announce that you’re “allergic to _____” to call attention to yourself. Makes you feel special doesn’t it? To go out in public, gain a captive audience, and then tell the hapless waitron and your table mates how delicate your precious, vulnerable body is. The unbridled narcissism of the internet age has only magnified this solipsism. When someone tells me they “can’t eat something,” it invariably means: “I don’t like it.” So stop the bullshit or stay home.

Thou shall not covet:

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Thy restaurant steak(s) — which have become cripplingly expensive. Slavishly seeking overpriced slabs of steer muscle in a fancy steakhouse is more and more a game of diminishing returns. Yes, they get the best beef and cook it at temperatures which are hard to duplicate, but most industrial beef is a crime against earth, and the real, grass-fed, free-range stuff is out-of-reach for most mortals. These days it makes more sense to go to a good butcher and cook one at home. Peter Luger (above) gets a pass here because its dry-aged beef is nonpareil, and a $200 rib steak split four ways makes sense.

Thy neighbor’s sushi — Overpriced, fancified, sushbag Japanese has become a cliche. You want a good sushi experience? Find a small, Japanese restaurant like Hiroyoshi on W. Charleston, or Sushi Hiro in Henderson, get to know a sushi chef, and trust him to slice you the best fish he can find. And leave influencer-style seafood and A-5 fetishization to the more-money-than-taste crowd.

Thy cult wine — Wanna brand yourself as a world-class douchebag? Start bloviating about all the Cali cabs you drink. And don’t get me started about orange and “natural” wines tasting of kombucha steeped in dirty feet.

Truffled Caviar Bumps at Grant Achatz's NEXT Restaurant in ...(Fish bumps)

Caviar — A dumb, flash-in-the-fetish trend, which appears to have jumped the sturgeon.

Truffles — Want to see my eyes narrow? Try shaving raw black truffles on anything, in July. Or Summer truffles, anytime. As with caviar, the faux poshification of restaurant food is an insult to the food and to customers, most of whom have no idea they’re being taken for an upcharge ride.

Any restaurant you have to book more than a week in advance. Fueled by the food porn of Netflix’s Chef’s Table, and all the World’s 50 Best and Michelin Guide nonsense, the “we need to eat at ______ when we’re in _____” culture has attained unprecedented trendiness in the past decade — a slavish, FOMO tumescence, if you will, among the body politic of affluent restaurant goers — and the bullshit needs to stop. For every “must-have” or “bucket list” address on these sheeples’ radar, there are dozens, if not hundreds of similarly worthy meals awaiting at places not overrun by insecure show-offs.

THE REST OF MY (more secular) COMMANDMENTS:

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Thou shall not wear thy cargo shorts….

…or thy t-shirt or thy flip-flops, or thy ball caps into nice, sit-down, restaurants. I realize I’ve lost this battle, as the Wal-mart-if-i-cation of America is pretty much complete, but bray I will until they pry my Ferragamos from my cold dead feet.

Thou shalt honor thy Sabbath Saturday by NOT dining out then.

Saturday night is to eating out what New Year’s Eve is to drinking — strictly for amateurs. Restaurant food tastes best Wednesday-Thursday-Friday. YOU COULD LOOK IT UP!

Thou shalt eschew AYCE everything

“Premium All-You-Can-Eat” is an oxymoron. Like jumbo shrimp and plastic silverware. There has never been, in the history of the world, an unlimited, eat-all-you-can table which was slinging anything but under-priced cattle fodder to the slope-shouldered, mouth-breathing sheep who flock there like moths to a cattle trough. (Mix. That. Metaphor!)

Thou shall not covet thy hostess, thy bartender, or thy waitron.

I know, I know, They’re young and sexy and oh-so friendly. And you just know they’re dying to meet you later for a drink. But trust me, muchacho, you’re just a number to them. And unless you are either devastatingly sexy, very rich, or somewhat famous, that friendliness is part of their job, not a come-on.

Thou shalt always order the specials

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Every restaurant tells you right up front what they are good at. Sometimes it’s on a chalkboard, sometimes it is highlighted in a letter box. (Like the barbacoa lamb grilled cheese at Chamana’s pictured above.) Often the waitron will tell you what’s special that day. Occasionally, it is in the name of the restaurant. They’re making it easy for you, dummy, so pay attention. If you order the steamed fish at Xiao Long Dumplings, you have only yourself to blame.

Speaking of fish…

Thou shalt never mix fajitas with fish

I knew a woman once who loved Italian food. (Who doesn’t?) But she took her gastronomic myopia to ludicrous levels by always looking for pasta in the most absurd places. Thus did I witness her disappointment in her lasagna from a Lebanese joint, and the spaghetti served at a Connecticut fish shack. She also insisted upon ordering margaritas everywhere from beer halls to wine bars. These choices never ended well. Neither did the marriage.

Thou shalt tip like a potentate

Everyone knows I hate tipping. It is backwards, insulting, racist, sexist, and demeaning to both parties. But until America grows up and starts paying its restaurant servers a living wage, these “gratuities” are the only way many at the lower end of the socioeconomic spectrum can make their rent. The only people who like tipping are restaurant owners and the microscopically few waitrons fortunate enough to work in high-end (read: $100/cover minimum) restaurants. I say: F**k tipping with a dirty fork. But then leave 20% minimum, and be thankful they are serving you and not the other way around.

Thou shalt disdain Strip wine lists.

Big Hotel has officially ruined wine drinking in many of our mega-resorts. (This does not hold true for certain restaurants (Guy Savoy, Peter Luger) and the Venetian-Palazzo lineup (where the tenants have the freedom to set their own boundaries). Bring your own and pay the corkage, or stick to by-the-glass.

Honor thy establishment by not overstaying thy welcome.

Read the room, nimrod. Don’t stay past the end of your meal chatting up your table when a line is snaking out the door — not just as respect for the customer, but for the owner of your favorite hang out. If the place is emptying out, however, feel free to stay until you hear a vacuum cleaner. Then leave a huge tip. (See above.)

Thou shalt not order oysters in a month without an “r” in it.

And with global warming, perhaps it’s best to keep your bivalve lust to between Halloween and Easter.

Thou shalt avoid (most) vintage Vegas restaurants like the plague

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From the antediluvian Bootlegger  to the indefensible Michael’s, Vegas’s old restaurants hang on to their hoary clientele with prehistoric menus, somnambulant service and decor more dated than a Steve & Eydie duet. Like the person typing these words, they were cool once, but have hung on way past their expiration date. Unlike this person, they exist in a bubble that ignores the last forty years of America’s food revolution.

FINALLY…

Thou shalt never:

  • Order the fish on Mondays
  • Take more than five minutes to peruse a menu
  • Ask for wine in a cocktail bar
  • Try to impress a sommelier with your wine knowledge
  • Ask to speak with the chef
  • Eat any food pretending to be something else (vegan “cheese,” froyo, tofurkey, etc.)
  • Arrive drunk at a restaurant
  • Drink cocktails with dinner
  • Lick your fingers at the table (unless the barbecue easement is invoked)
  • Speak of anything gross, bathroom-related, or appetite-inhibiting at the table
  • Expect the service at most small Asian restaurants to be anything but functional
  • Expect the wine selection at most Asian restaurants to be anything but horrible
  • Use your knife and fork as if you were hacking a vicious animal to death (Here’s tutorial if you need one.)
  • Season your food before tasting it
  • Assume “the customer is always right” because the exact opposite is usually true
  • Go to any party restaurant (Tao, STK, Papi Steak, et al) for the food
  • Eat in a place called Mom’s, play cards with a man named Doc, or sleep with a woman whose troubles are worse than your own.

But enough about me.

Cheers!

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These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

Eating is like sex: sometimes you do it as a form of art, and sometimes you do it to satisfy an urge. – Me

It’s time I shared a little secret with you — one I usually keep to myself: As open-minded as I try to remain when eating out, I do play favorites. Sometimes I go out with a purpose in mind, other times it is simply to obtain tried and true pleasure from an old, comfortable companion — a place that consistently brings me to a satisfying finish, once in a while, without too much thought.

You know, kinda like marriage.

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Put another way: when it’s time to unwind and dine on my own dime, rather than opine or repine about where I’ve reclined…. sometimes I’m supine about places most fine, which you and I know have already shined.

Sure, I trumpet the merits of everything from sushi bars to pasta joints all over town, and, at the drop of a hangar I’ll rattle off my top ten steakhouses, or five favorite Frenchies…but truth be told, when the time comes for the Food Gal and I to grab a quick bite, there’s usually only a few (okay, more like a few dozen) places on our agenda.

And by “on our agenda” I mean places we rely upon, but still manage to argue about.

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Take any random week night or Sunday afternoon. If you’re hanging around our kitchen counter, at the palatial Curtas manse, you might overhear a conversation that goes something like this:

The Food Gal®: “I’m hungry.”

The World’s Greatest Restaurant Critic®, i.e., me: “What are you in the mood for? Uh….(I then proceed to call a grammar foul on myself) I meant: for what are you in the mood, my sweet?”

Her: “I dunno, what do you want”?

Me: “I thought you said you were hungry. What would you like?”

Her: “Anything. I’m starving.”

Me: (realizing we’re getting nowhere) “Okay, how about brisket and  ribs?”

Her: “No, they’re too smoky.”

“Korean?”

“Too garlicky.”

“Mexican?”

“Too much cilantro.”

“Pasta?”

“Too filling.”

“Sushi?”

“Not filling enough”

“Indian?”

“It’s too hot for Indian.”

“How about we hit up that Bahamian-Nigerian-Sicilian pirogi truck that just opened? I hear its breadfruit-jackfruit-eggfruit empanadas are the bomb!”

“Nah, it’s not cold enough yet.”

And so it goes.

Are we the only couple who goes through this? Doubtful. At this point in my life I’m convinced EVERY couple on earth goes through this (or some version of this) at least once a week.

At the grandiose Curtas digs:

….it’s a daily conversation. I kid you not.

But we have our favorites — old reliables we default to whenever we can’t find inspiration in the new, or are desperate for a tried and true definitive chew.

So, without further ado, here are a few of my favorite things, restaurant-wise:

BREAKFAST

Image(Off-menu “Bodega” at Vesta)

We’re not big on breakfast at our opulent marital abode.…..even though The Food Gal®, like most women, seems to have this odd predilection for wanting to eat something in the morning.

Like every morning.

In fact, she takes this unreasonable position to extremes, often insisting that something go into her stomach on a regular basis, morning, noon and night. Yours truly, being (like most men), less emotional and more level-headed, encourages her to resist mightily these spasms of silliness. “Breakfast is good for only one thing: thinking about lunch,” we tell her, and once in a while, she listens. Why waste calories on carbo-bombs and caffeine when delectable full meals beckon, only a few hours hence?

Being of sound mind, she usually bows to this impeccable reasoning and concedes to a morning ritual of coffee at either Bungalow Coffee Co. or Vesta, followed by a discussion of where to have lunch. When she wins the argument, here’s where we end up:

Cafe Breizh (for the best French pastries…)

Burgundy Cafe & Bakery  (for the best French pastries + great sandwiches + feeling like you’re sitting in Paris – the city, not our ersatz version)

Life’s A Bagel (for the best Bagel in Vegas)

Saginaw’s Deli (for Vegas’s best deli only tourists ever go to….)

La Vecindad (for chilaquiles – belowwhich have been scientifically proven to be the best Mexican breakfast on earth):

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7th & Carson (for the Full Irish – one Irish breakfast usually being more than enough for two)

PublicUs (a culinary/coffee gem on East Fremont – an incredible success in an unlikely location)

Vesta Coffee (exclusively for its “Bodega Sandwich” – see above – which is all you need to start your day, along with one of their high-octane brews)

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LUNCH

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She works out by the airport; he works downtown at City Hall. Somehow, they make it work — rendezvous-ing for a midday meal several times a week. He will tell you that, after four decades of intense research, three failed marriages, two nervous breakdowns and thousands of $$$ in alimony, the secret to a happy marriage is having lunch with your spouse at least every other day. Historical records have shown that Mesopotamian sociologists discovered this around the year 3652 B.C..

Related factoid: Einstein’s fourteenth theory of infidelity relativity has firmly established that regularly having lunch with someone else’s spouse leads to the opposite effect.

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I’m a downtown guy so downtown is where we mainly stay….when we’re not heading to Chinatown…which we do at least twice a week. We don’t think about going to the Strip much anymore, because, with a few exceptions, it’s become one giant tourist trap. F**k the Strip (most of it, anyway) with a margarita guitar.

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Enough negativity. Here’s where you’ll find us most middays partaking of a palate-pleasing repast:

Esther’s Kitchen:

Image(You knead to know, Esther’s spreads don’t loaf around.)

Nevada Brew Works (strictly for the boffo burgers)

Soulbelly BBQ (Best. BBQ. In. Vegas.)

Letty’s on Main  (Get the chicharrones and quesotacos and thank me later.)

Cipriani:

Image(4 words: carb-o-nar-a)

DE Thai Kitchen  (for incendiary delights in a teeny tiny space)

ShangHai Taste (worth the wait for superior xiao long bao)

Xiao Long Dumplings (right across the street from ShangHai, bigger, more varied menu)

Pho So 1 (our Vietnamese mainstay)

Matteo’s  (Italian that’s too good for tourists):

Image(Seppia – baby calamari a la plancha at Matteo’s)

Estiatorio Milos (still the best lunch value on the Strip)

New Asian BBQ (Super busy translates into super-fresh dim sum)

Ramen Hashi (for the shoyu ramen lover in you):

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Rincon Buenos Aires (beef glorious beef, Argentine-style)

Rainbow Kitchen (Every Chinese’s favorite it seems, especially on weekends):

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Let us finish lunch with some faithful Chinatown friends who never fail us:

District One

Yummy Rice

Big Wong

Curry Zen

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DINNER

Image(Beef, it’s what’s for dinner)

Here’s where things get tricky. The Las Vegas of 2022 has an embarrassment of riches when it comes to dining out. There are dozens of restaurants we like/love as much (or more) as these, but those below represent our default settings when we can’t agree on the time of day. Some may surprise you Some we only get to once in a blue moon. None of them have ever bored us, even a little, even after dozens of visits. Like a good spouse, they keep us intrigued, even if we’re sampling the goods for the umpteenth time:

Bouchon (A bitch to get to, but worth it.)

Noodlehead (when you can’t get into China Mama)

China Mama (when you want the best Chinese food in town)

Jamon Jamon  (If this isn’t the best gazpacho you’ve ever tasted, I’ll eat a pound of rancid octopus):

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SUSHI INTERLUDE

Sushi is a “dinner only” thing in America, which is odd since modern sushi began as a quick lunch/street food snack in Japan in the 19th Century. What it’s gained in cache it has lost in accessibility. Even our better izakaya are only open after 5:00 pm. If you’re craving Japanese at noon, your best bet is:

Chanko Shabu & Izakaya

After work, you’ll find us haunting one of these four joints, mostly, because a fifth favorite (Sushi Hiro ) is too farking far from our ‘hood to hit with any regularity.

Hiroyoshi

Yu-Or-Mi Sushi

Yui Edomae Sushi

Izakaya Go (Need we say more?):

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Speaking of “in my ‘hood”, this collection of kebabs and curries is as convenient as it comes:

Mt. Everest Indian Cuisine

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STEAK BREAK

The wife loves steak. Perhaps a little too much.

Image(Tibia honest with you, The Food Gal® often strays from the straight and marrow, which I find fibulous. She says I bone this way out of proportion, which is more than a little humerus.)

Whenever the subject of a big, juicy steak dinner comes up, here’s a typical conversation at Chez Curtas :

Me: “I’m in the mood for a big, juicy steak dinner…”

Her: “Me too, but you can have the meat; I’m in it for the bone (see above) …you know how I get with a big hard one: licking, sucking, gnawing it clean until my face is slick with…”

Me: “Let’s stay in tonight. I have a better idea. “

Assuming our carnivorousness triumphs over the carnal, here’s where we usually end up:

Brezza (Go for the Italian food, stay for the steak.)

Carversteak

CUT

Bazaar Meat

8 Oz. Korean Steakhouse

Oscar’s Steakhouse

Vic & Anthony’s

Capital Grille (Bonus: It’s open for lunch!)

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The last lap — all consistently terrific:

Elia Authentic Greek Taverna

Sparrow + Wolf  (not-a-steakhouse but features one of the best steaks in Vegas – see steak pic above under “Dinner” – along with some incredible veggies.):

Image(Beware: too much of this great hummus can make you falafal.)

Lamaii (Thai + wine heaven)

Khoury’s Mediterranean  (Tastier than many a Greek…there, I said it.)

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This is not to damn many other fine places all over town. We crave Kevin Chong’s food at Japaneiro even though it always feels like driving to Bakersfield to get there. Spring Mountain Road has places popping up every week it seems, but rarely do they seem to have the talent behind them that our old favorites do. There are too many good Italians in town to count (Aromi, Milano, Ferraro’s, Al Solito Posto, D’Agostino’s…) and maybe it’s their ubiquity that keeps them off our regular rotation.

You’ve no doubt noticed the many favorite and “essential” restaurants are also not listed. As much as we love Kaiseki Yuzu, Raku and Golden Steer, popping into them for a nightly bite is almost impossible in these post-Covid times. Ditto big deal meals like Joël Robuchon, Guy Savoy and ‘e’ by José Andrês.

And as long as I’m letting you in on secrets, here’s another one: It takes a whole lot of chef or restaurant to get me interested in trying something new these days. Call it age, jadedness, or whatever, but hauling my carcass out to try someone’s idea of a culinary/business experiment is no longer my idea of fun. It sounds like the height of arrogance to say so, but at this point in my career, I can smell failure from the parking lot. My heart goes out to small business people trying to make a success in this cruel, cruel world, but trying to enlist me in your cause is a waste of time. If you’re any good, I’ll find you. If you’re really good, I will help spread the word to my small audience. They, like me, are not interested in popularity or mediocrity. Our tastes are simple: we simply want the best of everything.

Take us home, Julie:

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