When André Rochat closed his namesake restaurant downtown in 2009, it’s safe to say that nary a tear was shed around the ELV offices.
The story of the cheesecloth-skinned chef tossing me from Alize (one of three restaurants he once owned) in 2002 is pretty well known in our humble burg, and we never tire of showing the (mostly) rave review/profile we wrote about him (in April 1999) that inexplicably set him off and led to our banishment. (Yes, we didn’t care for a few items, and felt some wine bottles were massively overpriced, but on the whole, we sang his praises left and right.)
(ELV loves this pic cuz he thinks it’s artsy)
ELV — the man, the myth, the inveterate Italianate — has eaten in Ferraro’s more times than he can count. His first meals there — at the west Flamingo location — were probably when chef Mimmo Ferraro was in short pants. He has eaten at Ferraro’s in its pre-great wine list phase, in its “the-only-good-Italian-restaurant-in-town” phase, through its pink neon phase and through its “let’s-get-closer-to-the-Strip” phase. ELV has seen Ferraro’s through so many phases you would think it was one of his unruly children.
(Slapsie Maxie enjoying a remarkable Italian repast at Ferraro’s two weeks ago.)
I’ve had the opportunity to visit with both Kerry Simon and Max Jacobson recently, so I thought a short post was in order for those of you who are always asking about them and wondering how they’re doing.