Anything too stupid to be spoken is sung. – Voltaire
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What’s the point of ELV enduring the endless, mind-numbing, soul-stealing stroll through Treasure Island (or TI or whatever the f*ck they’re calling it these days) to eat a bowl(s) of stew that was certain to be shameful?
Why, for old time’s sake of course! Plus the fact that a good bowl of red is about as rare as surströmming in these here parts.
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If you’ve ever have a hankerin’ for a slice of old New York pizza — and let’s face it who hasn’t? — then only one pie in Las Vegas really fills that bill: the Old New York Pizza at Metro Pizza. Owners John and Sam Arena take understandable pride in their array of styles and techniques, and take great pains to duplicate the tastes of their youth…back when they were two yutes.
The slices above reminded ELV of one of his early New York pizza memories — at the original Ray’s, before it became famous for being Ray’s, before it even became famous, and before it then became Famous Ray’s and/or the Original Ray’s Famous and then became the subject of lawsuits anytime someone named Ray was either eating or selling a pizza anywhere within a hundred mile radius of midtown Manhattan.
With its fresh tomato sauce, thin, squishy crust, accent of herbs and good mozz (all in correct proportion), it also put us in mind of Patsy’s in Harlem. In other words, it was/is perfect for those needing a New York pizza fix 2,500 miles from there.
A small one costs $12.70 at any one of the six Metro pizza locations in town. No litigation necessary.
Just thought you’d like to know.
Never eat oysters in any month without a paycheck in it. – P.J. O’Rourke
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It’s something of a tradition around the ELV household to chow down on ersters in our humble burg before the hot weather hits.
Usually we hit Bouchon and/or RM Seafood for a dozen or two, washed down with some of that there Fussy-Pussy wine, and then forget our shellfish hankerins until October rolls around. (Despite what oysters producers, restaurants, and more than a few writers tell you, oysters are not as sweet or firm in the summer months, because that’s when they breed — becoming tired, flabby and watery in the process — sorta like humans.)
This year we decided to break with tradition and check out the varieties at Morels Steakhouse — long known for its French-i-fied steaks, erotic murals: [imagebrowser id=1122]
….cheese platters and freshly displayed bivalve mollusks.
We knew they’d be good, but we didn’t expect them to be this good. The Hama Hamas and Kumamotos tasted like they just lept off a boat…and the flatter, bigger Malpeques had just that light, clean essence they are known for.
If those weren’t good enough, the parsley-olive oil dip here (along with the yeasty, crusty bread), is worth a special trip all by itself.
Morels seems to be a good joint in the process of trying to make itself a great one. Now that the Wynn/Encore seems to be abandoning its haute gourmand mission, it may soon become our first steak stop along Las Vegas Blvd. South. (and yet another in Venetian/Palazzo’s Murderer’s Row of Steakhouses)
MORELS FRENCH STEAKHOUSE
In The Palazzo Hotel and Casino
3325 Las Vegas Blvd. South
Las Vegas, NV 89109
702.607.6333