There is a certain type of knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing, fanny packing, Red Stater who considers a trip to the Pawn Stars pawn shop the ne plus ultra of their trip to Sin City.
The crême de la crême of their Vegas vacation, the piece de la resistance of their precious playtime, if you will.
ELV does not understand these people.
Of course, The Official Younger Sister of ELV once went to Dollywood and he didn’t understand that, either.
It took me almost two years but I finally did it: forced myself to eat in every one of Las Vegas’s venerable establishments. The oldest restaurants in town. Those slices of history that have hung on for decades, bucking trends and stemming tides.
And you know what I found?
They’re all terrible.
Not terrible terrible as in inedibly terrible, but so dated, shopworn and threadbare that there is no appreciable culinary reason to go to any of them.
Besides being a fun read about the birth of a food writer, Fuschia Dunlop’s Shark’s Fin and Sichuan Pepper: A Sweet-Sour Memoir of Eating in China is a great primer on the glories of Szechuan cooking.
An unabashed fan of the Szechuan province (she considers it the ne plus ultra of Chinese cuisine) her book explores everything from the tongue-numbing effect of those mysterious peppercorns, to the Chinese propensity to eat “everything that flies except an airplane, and everything with four legs except the table.”