Wed, Jun 30, 2010 (4:10 p.m.)
Bachi Burger’s Kalbi Burger
Photo: Beverly Poppe
Semi-Asian food in burger form, made palatable for white people, was all I could think of during my two visits to the new Green Valley joint Bachi Burger. Continue reading “BACHI BURGER Doesn’t Cut the Kim Chee”
Wed, Jun 16, 2010 (12:31 p.m.)
Cannolis with pistachio foam from Sirio.
Photo: Leila Navidi
Sirio Maccioni is a living legend. one of a kind. The last of the great ones. At one time he represented the ne plus ultra of restaurateurs in New York, which pretty much means he was the standard bearer for gourmet in America. Between its opening in 1974 through the mid-’90s, his restaurant, Le Cirque, was the most famous in the country. Back then, restaurants were the domain of their autocratic owner, and chefs were employees who cooked according to his taste and demands.
Sirio in Aria is a throwback of sorts. There’s no chef’s name on the door, and it’s still run the old-fashioned way: Mario, the oldest son, oversees all three of their Vegas rooms; when he takes a break, one of his brothers, Marco or Mauro, is always around to make sure each hums like a finely tuned engine. (Patriarch Sirio is often in town as well.) The chef they employ at Sirio—Vincenzo Scarmiglia—has proven chops; he ran the kitchen at the Maccioni’s delightful, Tuscan-inspired Circo in the Bellagio for years.
With Sirio, both he and the Maccionis are being asked to do something neither has done before: Feed hordes of middle-brow conventioneers hackneyed Italian standards, at fairly high prices, in a tough economy, in hopes that no one will notice the generic nature of the menu. I noticed. But I also noticed you can eat very well here, if you stick with the clichés this kitchen does best.
One cliché to avoid: the pizzas. Ordering one at a Maccioni restaurant is like asking an opera singer to belt out “My Way,” but if you insist, the thin crust tastes like crisp matzo, onto which various toppings are strewn about to no great effect. I don’t know when or why it became fashionable to put potatoes on top of bread, but they show up on the pizza bianca con patate, gorgonzola e speck. There’s nothing wrong with any of the other four offerings—other than they taste like afterthoughts.
Opt for the carpaccio, and you get good, thin, raw beef sullied by white truffle oil. To any lover of real Italian food, white truffle oil is to the real thing what Steak’umm is to prime porterhouse. Unfortunately, it shows up all over town in restaurants that should know better.
Something Scarmiglia knows better: Italian meats and cheeses. His antipasto platters are top-shelf, and his selection of all-Italian fromaggi is highlighted by Castelmagno—the rare Piedmontese cow-sheep’s milk cheese. Start your meal with a few nibbles and a slice of superior salumi, then proceed directly to the hot appetizers. There you will find eggplant parmigiana—a cliché to be sure, but one done so well that all is forgiven. Just as tasty: the trio of meatballs—veal, lamb and duck—served with fresh tomato compote.
Aside from the linguine con vongole veraci, rapini e pomodori di pachino (strangely containing broccoli rabe and tomatoes), the pastas are excellent and worth a trip unto themselves—especially the gnocchi with pesto and the richest lasagna you’ve ever tasted.
A lot of restaurants seem to run out of gas with their main courses, but this one gets stronger throughout your meal. Each dish sparkles with cooking care and unique sauces and sides—the ossobuco with saffron risotto is nonpareil, likewise the filet with gorgonzola cheese and polenta and the roast pork with black rice. That nutty, deeply flavored riso nero venere was new to us, and a wonderful counterpoint to the sweet pork. Seafood mains stick with the tried-and-true: sea bass, salmon, swordfish and scallops, but again, Scarmiglia dresses things up with an oregano sauce here (swordfish), a chardonnay veloute there (sea bass) and a port wine sauce everywhere about the scallops.
It’s easy to criticize Sirio for playing it safe, but if you look closely, you see a restaurateur and chef trying to please the masses, while tweaking each dish to give it something special. Purists may blanch, but it’s just the sort of Italian-American restaurant Aria needed.
John Curtas is the food critic for KNPR 88.9-FM and holds court online at eatinglv.com.
[nggallery id=679]
Walk around the El Cortez hotel these days, and you will witness the changing face of Downtown Las Vegas. This old-timer has spent real money upgrading its facilities to appeal to the party-as-a-verb crowd. At the same time, it maintains an old-Vegas (in a good way) vibe that keeps the coupon-clippers happy. Through it all, its main restaurant (now The Flame, formerly Roberta’s) keeps a foot in both worlds and hardly ever stumbles—at least when it comes to what’s on the plate.
Before you confront your meal, you will first have to deal with the room. Dull beyond words, it is well-lit (some would say too well), and comfortable in a generic, franchised-coffee-shop sort of way. The sole design elements are provided by hi-def flatscreens showing fabulous, color-saturated travel videos of Italy. We’re not sure management intended this effect, but the views are so sparkling and seductive, they make you wish you were anywhere but the El Cortez when you’re watching them.
Even if you’re not on the Amalfi Coast, the food is good enough to draw some of your attention. When they’re in season, which doesn’t begin again until October 15, Florida stone crabs are the appetizer to get. They are only flown in for Friday and Saturday nights, are run as a special and are always fresh.
For the next four and a half months, though, you will have to settle for fresh, sparkling Kumamoto oysters with a textbook mignonette, blue-crab cakes nicely studded with chunky lump meat accompanied by a decent remoulade, and littleneck clams steamed in chardonnay. Skip the baby-backs unless you like pork ribs for dessert.
They serve mealy tomatoes out of season here (about the only hangover from the El Cortez’s cheap eats days), but otherwise the salads are acceptable, though not exceptional. The “garbage salad” comes nicely dressed with a light lemon vinaigrette, and the iceberg wedge is a blue-cheese-lover’s delight.
The issue with restaurants in small hotels is they have to be all things to all people. Dinner-only places (when you’re the only dinner-only joint in the joint) don’t have the luxury of niche marketing to seafood faddists, local locavores or meat fetishists. Instead, expect to see chicken, meat and fish in all their familiar guises. What distinguishes the Flame is its careful cooking of these primary tourist staples, the aforementioned stone crabs and, drum roll please … the wall-eyed pike. As any upper-Midwesterner will tell you, this is pretty much the king of freshwater fish. Its dense, sweet flesh makes it perfect for grilling or deep-frying, both of which are done to a turn here. At $18, it is the biggest bargain on the menu, and also the best.
Not as successful is the untrussed roasted chicken—served with legs splayed and slightly dry for that reason—but the lamb chops, double-cut pork chops and steaks will more than satisfy a carnivore’s craving—at prices $14-$20 less than you’ll pay three miles south. If gussied-up beef is what befits you, the steak Diane—sliced tenderloin in a cognac mustard-cream sauce—is steak sauced the old-school way, and again, a steal at $24. Speaking of sauces, another indication this place has upgraded itself are the six house-made sauces, ranging from green peppercorn to Marsala to a quite respectable béarnaise.
Desserts are unmemorable, but you won’t forget the wine list—mainly because it’s short and priced to sell. A William Fevre Chablis ($35) fits nicely with the fish, and the most expensive red, Clos du Bois Marlstone, tops out at $55.
Priced-to-sell pretty much sums up the Flame. The only surprises on the menu are pleasant ones, and in this price range, it pretty much sets the standard for quality comestibles. All the restaurant needs now is a décor to complement the food and give it some personality, something the hotel has had since 1941, and seems to be getting more of daily.