The Mexicans

Image(Elio)

For years, Mexican food in Las Vegas has gotten a bad rap. I should know, I was one of those doing the rapping.

All you had to do is travel to SoCal, Arizona, or Denver to see our Mexicans fell woefully short when it came to bringing the bounty of Mexico to the High Mojave. Like Greek and Indian restaurants, Mexican eateries seemed mired in identical menus, ignoring regional differences in search of a one-size-fits-all formula. In place of Yucatan seafood specialties or Oaxacan moles we got fajitas fajitas fajitas! When we weren’t getting nachos, enchiladas and tacos!

With plenty of kitchen talent surrounding us, the question always was: Why was Vegas Mexican food so bad for so long? Part of it had to do with the early Vegas pioneers — the Ricardo’s, Macayo’s, Chapala’s and their ilk — which were all hamstrung by the lack of good groceries. Back in the 70s and 80s, those jalapenos and beans probably came from a can, the meat was cheap, and the seafood came from who knows where. Whatever scratch cooking was done was reserved for the proteins, and you might find a fresh tortilla at a place like Lindo Michoacan, but woe be the diner who expected the tomatoes to be fresh or the salsa to be house-made.

Things have changed a lot recently, and three new places are leading the way.

Image(José can you see these salsas)

José Aleman’s Sin Fronteras Tacos y Mas  isn’t exactly new. He’s been tucked into a strip mall in the northwest part of town for three years, turning out remarkable food made all the more special by how surprising it is in such an unlikely location.

Usually, Mexican restaurants parked in these forgettable strip malls serve food on par with the surroundings. Not so, José. Here you’ll find all the usual suspects (fajitas, fundidos and the like), but if you look a little more closely you’ll notice everything is a cut or three above your usual one-size-fits-all Mex menu.

Aleman’s menu is full of surprises, starting with the salsas. Six are offered (above, including guacamole and queso), all made daily, in house. They cost a buck a piece, and you should treat yourself (at least on your first visit) to one of each. The “Diablo” (made with arbol chiles), and smokey habanero/chipotle “Morita,” will give a chilehead all they can handle, while the milder ones (including a gorgeous tomatillo-based “Verde”) will have you reflexively dipping into them until all that’s left is your finger scraping the bowl.

Aleman calls his restaurant a “no Tapatio zone” with good reason: it would be a sin at Sin Fronteras to ruin this food with a bottled sauce.

Image(Relleno gets real)

Hidden among the same old Mexican standards are gems of careful cooking made with  — ranging from terrific tacos to more cheffy stuff which would be right at home at the Border Grill or one of Rick Bayless’s outposts. The chile relleno, oozing Oaxacan cheese (above), is in a class by itself, and his fried pork “Michoacan-style” (below) is worth a trip all by itself.

Image(They had us at “deep-fried pork ribs”)

One dip into the queso fundido laced with house-made chorizo tells you you aren’t in Ricardo’s land anymore, and showstoppers like the enchiladas “aguascalientes style” (named after Aleman’s Mexican birthplace – topped with roasted potatoes, crema, and cotija cheese) are as far from mediocre Mexican as Cabo San Lucas is from Lake Mead.

Image(Aguascaliente means either “hot water” or festooned with taters)

All aquas frescas are made in house, as are the desserts. To a flavor, each will stop you in your tracks. Sin Fronteras means “without borders,” and refers as much to Aleman’s culinary odyssey as it does to the boundaries he is pushing with his refined cooking.

What began with dish washing at haute cuisine palaces in Chicago brought him to cooking at top Vegas spots (Eiffel Tower, Boa Steakhouse, Marché Bacchus), and now to a place where his passion for his homeland’s food can flourish.

Sin Fronteras Tacos y Mas is much much more than just another taco shop. Its surroundings might be uninspiring and the decor modest, but if there’s a better neighborhood Mexican restaurant in Vegas right now, cooking food this finely tuned, I have yet to find it.

José never lets me pay, but I always try to leave a tip equal to what I think the meal would’ve cost…which includes a couple of tacos at $2.50 (a flat out steal), $15 for those rellenos, and ten bucks for enchiladas. In other words, $40 will give two folks all the food they can handle here. He could boost prices by 50% and they would still be a bargain.

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Letty’s De Leticia’s Cocina (aka Letty’s) is an entirely different animal. Where Sin Fronteras punches way above its weight, Leticia Mitchell is swinging at pitches she knows she can hit. (Mix. That. Metaphor!) Her wheelhouse in this case is downtown’s insatiable appetite for tacos.

Opening Letty’s a quarter mile from Casa Don Juan, Dona Maria’s, and Tacotarian would seem to be risky business, but when the food is this good, we can certify it as a home run, only a month into its opening.

Letty’s is tiny (the old El Sombrero building), the menu is small, you order at the register, and they run the food out to one of eight tables inside, with a few more on the sidewalk. Mitchell has made some smart decisions in taking over an iconic space — turning the old freestanding building (the oldest restaurant building in Las Vegas) into sign by itself — in the form of an eye-popping mural which wraps around the structure. The effect is festive and eye-catching, and puts you in the mood for her sparkling cuisine.

Image(Guisado my cochinita, por favor)

Before going any further, I should state that Leticia and I have a history. For years I considered her full-service restaurant in Centennial Hills to be one of our best Mexicans. It was a classic old-school south-of-the-border joint —  colorful decor, lots of seating, lively crowd, full bar, beer and tequila ads everywhere — that felt like a cliche until the food arrived and blew your mind. The fresh tortillas alone were worth the trip, and some of her moles and sauces were extraordinary.

And then, something happened. A few years ago, we suffered two terrible meals in a row which made me question my sanity. It was pretty obvious the “C” team had been put in charge, and soon enough, I started hearing rumors she was closing her doors. Landlord troubles ensued (or so we heard) and soon enough, she did.

Image(Two hot tamales)

All that is water under the bridge now, because Centennial Hills’ loss has been downtown’s gain. Leticia has recovered her taco mojo, and, like Aleman, has gotten better by going smaller,

No longer facing the challenge of serving hundreds (and employing dozens), she’s free to downscale and make handmade food that feels more personal. Tacos and tortas are the focus, stuffed with all your favorite proteins — the difference being each bite brings a level of quality lacking in many of its competitors.

The nominations are closed as far as tamales (above) are concerned: you won’t find better outside of an abuela’s house. We don’t remember anything like her tamarind-sauced, carnitas enchilada in town, either — a tangy take on tradition which managed to be both wonderfully familiar and hauntingly strange.

Image(Sweet heat: carnitas tamarindo)

The sauce starts out tart-sweet and ends with the mellow glow of chile heat filling your throat and back palate — by turns exciting and soothing, and extraordinary by any measure.

Image(Holy fatback, Batman!)

Chicharrones? You only think you know chicharrones….especially if you equate them with crispy fried pork rinds. Letty’s version is more like deep-fried pork belly (more meat than rind, see above) and they are outrageously good by any measure. A big basket shows up, too much for two, you’ll think to yourself, before devouring the whole thing. She also does something called  “quesotacos” which wraps your protein of choice inside a layer of melted, caramelized Oaxaca cheese, wrapped inside a tortilla. A cheese blanket inside a taco may sound a bit Taco Town-ish, but the result is damn tasty.

And while we’re at it, don’t sleep on the Ensenada tacos or the cochinita pibil seared tortillas either. The former are small but pack a punch — whether your seafood is grilled or battered — and the latter are two rolled little rolled corn tortillas of pure adobo pork goodness.

Lest I be seen as overpraising Letty’s, keep in mind this is a modest operation, very much concentrating on tacos, tortas, and snacks. But its delights are in the details, and even the simplest of items — like her black beans with crema — signals a great leap forward in downtown dining options. Bayless once told me the reason Mexican food in America was so lousy was because most of it came out of a can. Nothing here tastes like it came out of a can.

Finally, save room for dessert, but be forewarned: the flan is so dense, light bends around it.

The tacos cost around $4 each (and you’ll want to get two). Everything else on the menu hovers in the $7-$14 range (and you’ll want to try one of each).

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ELIO is in another league entirely. It comes to us straight from Mexico City by way of New York. One look at the place tells you that things are serious here, as in lobster salpicón serious, green mole-tokyo turnip serious, and duck carnitas serious.

The menu is heavy on herbs, veggies, and various non-meaty items, although there are plenty of those around to keep the trenchermen happy.

‘Vegetales” get the super-serious treatment here, enough to justify $19 for a “Gem” lettuce salad (below), and $26 for a single turnip served with green mole. But don’t let these prices dissuade you: whether it’s a deceptively simple salad or a sweet potato served with pumpkin seed salsa, this kitchen has such a way with things that sprout from the earth, you might consider foregoing eating animals altogether.

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Of course, man does not live by pristine salads and “Mole verde (broccoli with hoja santa) alone, so there’s plenty of non-traditional dishes to nosh on, with raw seafood taking center stage, along with such beauties as these marvelously tangy mussels, served “in escabeche”:

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…and it’s doubtful you’ll ever pay more for a carrot dish than these roasted “al pastor” beauties:

Image(Shriveled yet succulent)

….all of it served with various sauces (e.g. guacachile, salsa macha, salsa roja) from deep in the Mexican catechism.

The deepest dives of all are reserved for seafood — rather remarkable from a restaurant having migrated to the high desert from a landlocked, volcanic valley. Regardless, the “crudo” is given top billing on the menu for good reason. Whether it’s striped bass in corn aguachile, scallop ceviche or tuna tartare, there’s not a clinker in the bunch. Soaking seafood in citrus comes as naturally to this cuisine as nixtamalization, and the chefs here are masters of the art.

Image(Duck carnitas with fixins)

Unlike many restaurants these days, things don’t get less interesting once you step up to the main courses. Everything from the lamb barbacoa to the “Branzino a la talla” (served atop a pool of guajillo chile adobo) is meant to be tucked into a taco, but you’ll be excused if you alternate between wrapping ingredients in one of the excellent corn tortillas, or just nibbling away directly from the dish.

The two signature “must have” items are the “Mole de la casa” (a softball of fresh mozzarella cheese plopped into a mole sauce days in the making), and the “Duck carnitas” (above), almost two pounds of spoon-tender duck breast, with crackling skin, begging to be devoured by everyone at the table. The carnitas are pricey ($90) but more than enough for four, and there better be at least that many of you present if you want to take down this big boy. (The picture above is a half portion, and gave The Food Gal® and I all we could handle, with plenty left over for lunch the next day.)

Prices may seem high, but everything is easily shared between 2-4 diners. The Bocados (snacks) section are a good way to dip your toe into the Olvera oeuvre with a minimum of sticker shock, and mix and matching them is half the fun. There, you’ll find a Pan de Elote that might be the last word in corn bread; fat little shrimp tostadas sharpened by grated horseradish and soothed by guacamole (below); and a minced lobster salpicón — all better than anything you’ve ever had in a Mexican restaurant.

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That’s because you haven’t. Mexican food, especially in the States, has never been treated with such respect, by the cooks or the customers. Here, like a lot of “ethnic” cuisines, it has suffered from a reputation for being cheap and easy, inelegant, informal, and inexpensive. No more.  Enrique Olvera started turning those premises on their head twenty years ago — when Pujol first made a splash in Mexico City — and in the two decades since, Mexican food has taken its rightful place as a world gastronomic treasure. As Feran Adrià has said: “There was Mexican food before Enrique Olvera and Mexican food after Enrique Olvera.”

Like Aleman, Olvera trained at Jean Joho’s Everest in Chicago before embarking on his solo career path, but unlike José, he’s now an empire builder. Multiple venues in Mexico, New York, Los Angeles (and now Vegas) are threatening to turn him into a chilango Vongerichten.

Cornhusk Meringues with Corn Mousse | Recipe | Mexican food recipes, Desserts, Wine recipes

I’ll give him his business aspirations, as long as he keeps giving us desserts like his corn husk mousse (an entire Mesoamerican metaphor in one meringue), and the best churros north of CDMX.

Unlike many globe-trotting chefs, though, Olvera has his proselytizing work cut out for him. He doesn’t just have to make fabulous, inventive, flavorful food, utilizing the cornucopia of edible treasures from his homeland, he also has to convince people to take Mexican food seriously — not as high-falutin’ as fussy French, mind you, but certainly miles beyond the smothered burritos and Mariachi merriment standard template for this food in America.

How he’s doing it is with the most compelling, ambitious Mexican food Las Vegas has ever seen. Aided by his number one — Daniela Soto-Innes –– Olvera is taking our taste buds to places they’ve never been. I don’t care if Elio is a spin-off, or a copy of a copy, right now we have the gustatory glory of Cuidad de México right on our doorstep, the way it was meant to be displayed, on level we have never seen before. All deliciously packaged in a first class room with top flight service. This is a whole other culinary world, muchachos, and it is beckoning all intrepid gastronomes as we speak.

Is it expensive? Si, señor, but the best of anything always is.

Snacks start at around $15, and are meant for two; the raw fish dishes hover in the twenties. Mains cover more territory than the Sonoran Desert — starting at $30 for the Mole de la casa and topping out at $110 (Whole fish) to $165 (a Flintstonean Tomahawk steak) — and easily feed four. The wine list reads like someone actually thought about matching modern wines with Mexican food (rather than some standardized snoozer) and markups are (relatively) reasonable. Tequila and mezcal hounds will think they died and went to heaven.

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SIN FRONTERAS TACOS Y MAS

4016 N. Tenaya Way

Las Vegas, NV 89129

702-866-0080

LETTY’S DE LETICIA’S COCINA

807 S. Main Street

Las Vegas, NV 89101

702-476-9477

ELIO

Wynn/Encore Hotel and Casino

3131 Las Vegas Blvd. South

Las Vegas, NV 89109

702.770-5342

Image(José)

 

Image(Letty)

Las Vegas Italians Up the Ante

Menu - La Strega - Italian Restaurant Las Vegas(Our Italians are finally putting on some mussels. Sorry.)

Ed. note: The following article appeared last week in John Mariani’s The Virtual Gourmet. Click here to read it in its original form.

Italian cuisine never goes out of style, and Las Vegas boasts its share of forgettable pasta palaces. But new entries – aiming for authenticity over the ersatz — have re-set the paradigm of quality when it comes to this much-abused food. While the tourist corridor has seen two famous, big city off-shoots plant their flags in the last year, off-Strip neighborhoods have been enriched by chef-driven (rather than red sauce-drenched) ristorante, and food all of them deliver is as stunning as a Ligurian sunset.

La Strega Archives — Being John Curtas

LA STREGA 

3555 S. Town Center Drive Ste 105

Las Vegas, NV 89135

702-722-2099

 Mediocre Italian restaurants are as common in Las Vegas as slot machines. So it’s big news when an off-Strip restaurant opens with ambitions of doing Amalfi Coast tasting menus, Roman-style artichokes, and pitch-perfect Neapolitan pastas. Throw some superior seafood into the mix, and you have a recipe for being packed every five nights a week and impossible to get into for Sunday brunch.

Gina Marinelli is the talent behind these menus and she’s serving them for over a year from an open kitchen in one of the sleekest rooms in town. Her knack with noodles has made her a celebrity among local pasta hounds, and her facility with fish is not far behind. She travels all over the Italian map, keeping her food seasonal and her customers intrigued, unlike few, if any, local Italians ever have.

Showing her range, Marinelli offers a first rate fritto misto (with calamari and rock shrimp) alongside rigatoni Bolognese, Lombardian scarpniocc, and Tuscan short ribs. Octopus is sparked by Calabrian peperoncino, while her tricolor salad (salami, mortadella, pesto, tomatoes) somehow manages to makes a kitchen sink of ingredients sing in harmony.

La Strega — Gaby J Photography

Everyone sources Nigerian prawns these days, but Marinelli dresses hers up without overdoing it – by floating them in a lobster broth of just enough intensity and letting the ingredients speak for themselves. Dressings on the salads are equally demure — whether they be a sweet-sour accent to crunchy pazanella, or bitter frisée greens enhanced with a subtly tart vinaigrette and an unctuous poached egg. The Witch’s Garden of fresh veggies, to be dipped in whipped chickpeas, is at its peak in summer, and looks almost too good to eat.

Pastas change with the seasons, as does most of the menu, but that rigatoni is gut-busting (in all the right ways) no matter what time of year. It hews close to a classic Bolognese, while some of the lighter offerings (spaghetti pomodoro with blistered tomatoes, linguine vongole with Manila clams, preserved lemon and chives) tweak the recipes just enough to peak your interest without losing the soul of what made them famous. When available, the bucatini Genovese – a tangle of dandelion pesto, potatoes and green beans – is a lip-smacking example of how Marinelli innovates without losing the subtle rhythms of Italian cooking.

LA STREGA, Las Vegas - Menu, Prices, Restaurant Reviews ...

Big proteins are well represented – roast chicken with rapini, whole fish (usually branzino) stuffed with herbs, the obligatory sirloin – but it’s in the appetizers, pastas and salads where this kitchen really shines. Pizzas subscribe to the more is more philosophy of toppings, but there’s no denying the quality of the crust or cornicione.

Back when bars were allowed to act like bars, this was one of the liveliest in the ‘burbs. The craft cocktails are just as good these days, only now you have to take them at your table. You won’t find much to complain about on the wine list, either – it being manageable with prices well-underneath what you pay for the same bottles twelve miles to the east.

The cannolis filled with house-made ricotta are worth a trip all by themselves.

La Strega is open for dinner Tues.-Sat. and for weekend brunch. Appetizers and salads are priced from $7- $20, pizzas and pastas are in the $15-$25 range, big proteins run from $26 (chicken) to $72 (sirloin), and $8 for dessert.

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MATTEO’S RISTORANTE ITALIANO

Venetian Hotel and Casino

3355 Las Vegas Blvd. South

Las Vegas, NV 89109

702.414.1222

Matteo’s aims to take you on a culinary tour of Italy, in a streamlined fashion. Without the pedigree of Cipriani, what it does it does well, at a friendly price point with lots of options. It began its run in Las Vegas as an offshoot of The Factory Kitchen, a popular Los Angeles Italian once located in an actual abandoned factory. What was groovy and hip in LA made no sense in Vegas, so, less than a year after opening, the name was changed to give more of a clue to the Italian cuisine served.  Thankfully, they didn’t change a thing about the food, which includes some of the best pasta in town.

The wine list is of manageable size and almost entirely Italian, with  well-chosen bottles, priced to drink, rather than to soak the high rollers. There are plenty of interesting bottles in the $50-$100 range.

The next thing you’ll notice is the olive oil, the real deal from Liguria, with herbaceousness to burn and a soothing, back-of-the-throat peppery finish that lasts until next week. The soft white bread that comes with it is rather bland (just as in Italy), the better to serve as a carrier for all of those earthy notes coming from the oil.

While you’re lapping up that awesome olive oil, you’ll confront a menu with dishes you may never have heard of— ortolana; peperú; sorrentina,  and mandilli di seta sit beside those you have— carpacciofritturapappardelle, branzino.,  all of them eye-popping and mouth-dropping; all are translated into English.

Image(They had us at “brown butter sage ravioli”)

Over a dozen starters are offered, covering the Italian map from north to south. Surprises abound, such as the sweet and spicy, soft-cheese-stuffed peppers (peperú), and the tangle of bright, fresh field greens with watermelon radish and champagne vinaigrette (ortolana), or beer-battered leeks with chickpea fritters (frittura).

As good as they are, the two starters not to miss are the prosciutto fanned out in slices sitting beneath a mound of stringy-creamy stracciatella cheese, speckled with pepper and drizzled with more of that insanely good oil. All of these sit atop crispy fried sage dough, making for a picture perfect amalgam of crunchy, creamy, salty and sweet.  The dish represents the sort of flavor/mouthfeel gymnastics that Italian food achieves effortlessly when the ingredients are right. It may be the most expensive antipasti ($25), but it also feeds four as an appetizer.

The other starter is the “sorrentina” — Chef Angelo Auriana’s homage to the seafood salads of the southern Italy. Grilled calamari, chickpeas and fava beans are enlivened with just the right spark of chili in the lightly-applied dressing.

Most of the dishes sound more complicated than they are, but there’s nothing particularly simple about plancha-roasted octopus with garbanzo puree, roasted carrots and cotechino sausage. The trick is in using good ingredients, and knowing how to balance flavors on the plate.

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The signature “mandilli di seta” (handkerchief-thin noodles bathed in almond-basil pesto, above) will be a revelation to those who’ve spent any time in the Cinque Terre. Likewise, the seafood-filled ravioli are like pillow-y surprises straight from Naples.  Pastas are all fairly-priced between $21-$31) and meant to be shared. Executive Chef Eduardo Perez (who held the fort down for years at Wolfgang Puck’s Lupo), executes this menu to a degree of faithfulness far beyond what you find at most of the other Italians in the Venetian/Palazzo complex, most of which are skewed to the Cedar Rapids crowd.

You may probably stuff yourself on those pastas but if self-control takes hold, save room for the lamb chops, which are superb, as is the branzino, the veal, and the 16 oz. ribeye steak.  And get the cannolis for dessert. They’re made in-house and fantastic.

Open for lunch and dinner, with starters ranging from $10-$25; pastas from $21-$36; main courses $32-$54. The wine list is heavily Italian, organized by regions, and marked up far less than its competition.

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 CIPRIANI LAS VEGAS

Wynn Hotel and Casino

702-770-7390

You don’t go to Cipriani because there’s some hot new chef at the stoves. You aren’t there for pirouettes on the plate or cartwheels in the kitchen. You didn’t just stumble by the place on your way to somewhere else (the pool, a nightclub, blackjack, etc.), and cutting-edge is not in your cuisine vocabulary. The reasons you walk through the door say more about you than the restaurant. You are there because you can’t find this experience anywhere else but here or in Italy.

The restaurant is there to serve you but has nothing to prove. It knows itself like a high soprano knows an aria from Madame Butterfly. In its original incarnation Cipriani has been doing the same thing, in the same way, successfully for decades. All that is left is for you to submit to its charms and history, and discover that, through decades of refinement, it serves a menu of subtle perfection like most Americans probably have never tasted before.

Before we get to that food, a little history is in order. Cipriani Las Vegas is the latest in a chain of Italian restaurants that traces its lineage to Harry’s Bar in Venice, founded in 1931 by Giuseppe Cipriani—the grandfather of the family—and became famous as a watering hole/restaurant for European nobility, the carriage trade, celebs and American literati in the 1940s and 50s. Giuseppe was fond of saying he deliberately made Harry’s Bar hard to find, because he wanted people to go there “on purpose.”

Cipriani Restaurant | Wynn Las Vegas and Encore Resort

Las Vegas is now the 19th Cipriani-run restaurant in the world, stretching from London to Singapore (New York currently has three), and the business is still family-owned. Las Vegas’s Cipriani references the look of the original but spruces it up more than a bit to give the premises a flashy sense of urbanity the original has only by way of reputation. (First timers to Harry’s Bar in Venice often walk through the almost-hidden side door, look around and say “This is it?”) Where the original boasts only ten low-slung tables in its main room and a modest eight-seat bar, with faded furniture, pale yellow walls and a few windows you can barely see out of, the “copies” around the world polish things to a fare thee well. The tables are still low, but the bold tan, white, and dark blue color scheme bespeaks a nautical, unpretentious elegance that you will slip into like a pair of well-worn Ferragamos.

First timers may find those low tables take a little getting used to, but they are a definitive part of Harry’s/Cipriani brand, so get used to them you will. Arrigo Cipriani, Giuseppe’s son, in his written history of Harry’s Bar, explains their design as reminiscent of the low tables he sat at as a child, where he always had more fun than at the taller, stuffier “grown up” tavola. Sit at them for a few minutes and you will see how they promote a certain intimacy among your table-mates. For larger folk, there are a number of plush booths (also lower) where you can spread out with lots of comfy pillows.

Eighty-nine years on, the details still matter. Those tables will always be covered in starched white linens, the flatware is modestly-sized and the staff is one of the most smartly outfitted in the business. Liquids are served in short, stout glasses (even the wine), and the sleek and sexy décor—all polished woods and gleaming brass—makes everyone feel like they’re in a Cary Grant movie.

Before you get to the menu, you will first have a Bellini—a small glass of Prosecco and white peach juice invented because Giuseppe looked around one day in the summer of 1948 and said, “What the hell am I going to do with all of these white peaches?” He then named it after the 15th Century Venetian painter Giovanni Bellini.  They cost $17 in Vegas, more in Venice, and they’re pretty small, but an essential part of the experience.

After your Bellini, you’ll have the carpaccio, the other world famous invention of Giuseppe Cipriani, this one from 1950, stemming from some  “ravishing countess” whose doctor said she couldn’t eat cooked meat. Cipriani simply pounded a raw filet paper thin and dressed it with a white, mustard/mayonnaise sauce, naming it after the Renaissance painter Vittore Carpaccio, whose works happened to be on exhibition in Venice at the time.

With those preliminaries out of the way, you will be free to peruse the wine list as you nibble on addictive short grissini (breadsticks), or some rather forgettable bread. (Don’t despair, the bread at Harry’s Bar is pretty forgettable, too.) The list is of modest length and actually rather approachable, with plenty of decent choices of Italian white wines from multiple regions in the $65-$100 range.

By now, it will be time to dive in. Certain dishes separate the men from the boys as it were, when it comes to the food of the Veneto: polenta, salt cod, cuttlefish, veal with tuna sauce, and most of all, calf’s liver “alla Veneziana”. None of these is what springs to mind when most Americans think “Italian food.”

Of things not to be missed are the baby artichokes “alla Romana” and the Bacalà Mantecato (whipped salt cod, served with fried polenta). Americans usually resist the allure of the second dish, even though salt cod is no fishier than a tuna sandwich, but serious foodies love its airy, whipped refinement, which echoes the sea without bathing you in it.

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Tuna of a more refined sort makes an appearance in a mayonnaise-like emulsion covering thin slices of cold Vitello tonnato, an umami-rich, meat-meets-sea antipasti, much beloved by Italians in the summer. Salads of endive and radicchio and lobster with avocado are offered, and they’re perfectly fine (if a bit boring), so you’ll want to lean more towards the prosciutto and bresaola, which are top shelf and sliced right.  Seafood lovers are equally well-served by beautiful shrimp (above), plump shards of sweet-sour anchovies, and the seppie in tecia—a thick, black stew of ink enveloping tender cuttlefish strands that’s as far from fried calamari as foie gras is from a chicken salad sandwich

Pastas are where things get heftier. But the portions easily feed two to four and are so good they should come with a warning label that repeated exposure could become habit forming. It’s doubtful you’ve ever had a veal ragù as light as the one dressing thick strands of tagliardi, and you’ll wonder if cream, ham, peas and cheese have ever matched better with tortellini, or been baked more beautifully as a crust for thin, egg-y tagliatelle, another signature dish. Knuckle-sized gnocchi come dressed with tomato cream one day, Gorgonzola cream the next, and are surprisingly light despite their weighty descriptions.

They do a beautiful Dover sole “alla Mugnaia” here, wonderful langoustines “al forno” and a rib-sticking braised short rib (again, all easily feed two), but if you really want to eat like a Doge of Venice, tuck into the calf’s liver alla Veneziana, a dish the  Venetians claim to have invented, but, as Waverly Root wrote in his The Food of Italy, “…it seems so natural a combination that it need hardly be pinned down to any single point of origin.”

Pizza makes an appearance (just to appease Americans, no doubt),  and they are quite good, but going to Cipriani for a pizza is like going to La Scala to see the “Book of Mormon.”

Image(You gelato be kidding!)

Desserts are remarkably light and white: Dolce Vanilla Meringue Cake, a Napoleon with vanilla cream, vanilla panna cotta, and the thickest, creamiest, silkiest and most vanilla-y gelato you have ever tasted.

Cipriani is neither crowd-pleasing nor elitist. It is Italian style made accessible; simple, sophisticated food served with panache. There is a seductive, reassuring quality to its flavors and atmosphere. Nothing overpowers, but each bite beckons another; every visit inspires a return. The cuisine is born of nuance, and the service has been honed by almost a century of tradition. But Cipriani is not for everyone. You have to go there on purpose.

 Cipriani is open for lunch and dinner daily. Appetizers and pastas running $14-$34, main course  $30-$64.  The $29 prix fixe lunch is a steal.

BONUS FEATURE!!

As an added bonus for those who are craving Italian these days, here is a complete list of my favorite ristorante in Las Vegas. These are the best of the best; they are also the only places I will go to when I crave a fix of Italy (in no particular order):

Monzù (go for the pizzas; stay for the Sicilian specialties)

Allegro (a gem of Neapolitan cooking in the Wynn)

Esther’s Kitchen (the bread, the wine, the pastas, that steak)

Osteria Fiorella (just opened last month at Red Rock Hotel and Casino, destined for greatness)

Ferraro’s Italian Restaurant and Wine Bar (the granddaddy of them all still has its fastball)

Casanova (in The Venetian – get the cioppino)

Spago (gorgeous, hand-made pastas)

Costa di Mare (go fish….for more than just seafood)

Carbone (take a crowd, and a second mortgage)

These also happen to be the only Italians open right now. A few others out there are either closed, in flux, or have futures which are in doubt (e.g. Eataly, Rao’s et al). Sorry if I offend your favorite pasta palace, but most of them are cheap and lousy and you know it. Others, like Sinatra in the Wynncore, and a few others on this list, are just plain boring and you know that, too.

The List – January 2020

Image(Happy New Year!)

For years I’ve maintained that to do this job correctly, you have to be a little touched, a lot obsessive, and slightly manic about where you eat.

It’s also like being a porn star: something that sounds like a good idea (to dudes anyway) until you have to do it daily, on command.

And like being a porn star, most guys think they could do it, but they can’t.

Let’s go through my month (a very light one by my standards) and see if you could keep up, eating-wise. Keep in mind these dishes are just the highlights — every meal contained much more to eat, some things of which I nibbled at, other parts I devoured wholesale.

It started with a smiley face on a croque Madame on January 1st at Marche Bacchus (top of page).

Then, in rapid succession, over the course of the month, we devoured…

Esther’s Kitchen

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We grow weary of telling you how great Esther’s is….but we will never get tired of James Trees’ cacio e pepe (above).

DE Thai Kitchen

Image(Kanom jeen namya pu AKA fish curry with noodles)

Not to take anything away from our wealth of Thai options downtown, but the food at the teeny tiny DE Thai Kitchen is the best of the bunch. When the fish-crab curry (above) is on the menu, get it.

Kaiseki Yuzu

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Sure the kaiseki menu is expensive (starting at $100/pp), but the small bites/sake bar up front (above) is quite the deal for food this refined, and a good introduction to Japanese food the way it tastes in Japan.

New York Bagel and Bakery

No better bagels in our humble burg.

ShangHai Taste

Image(Through these doors lie dumpling delights)

Screw those over-hyped Chinese chains (Tim Ho Wan, Din Tai Fung), Jimmy Li’s xiao long bao are the bomb and made with love, not on an assembly line.

Serrano’s Mexican Food

Image(This salsa lit me up from my head tomatoes)

There is nothing remarkable about Serrano’s.…except the service and the spot-on Mexican food. It’s also one of the spiffiest holes-in-the-walls you will encounter, with not a grimy corner in site. A real hidden gem in an unlikely location.

Sage

Image(Egg-cellent caviar; unbliniably good pancakes)

We pop into Sage every other year just to make sure it hasn’t lost its fastball. It hasn’t lost its fastball. In fact it may be throwing more heat than ever. New chef Thomas Griese is seeing to that.

Hiroyoshi

Image(I’m urchin you to try this uni)

Every time I eat at Hiroyoshi, I kick myself for not eating here more often. Simply marvelous sushi at more than reasonable prices for what you get. The uni 3-ways will have you dropping your chopsticks in appreciation.

Estiatorio Milos

Image(These prawns give great head)

These Carabineros deep water prawns may be $30 a piece, but sucking sherry out of one of their detached craniums is the best cephalothorax you can get on the Strip.

Moon Palace

Image(This Double is damn Tasty)

Everyone knows David Chang hates me. And I’m no fan of his warmed over, quasi-Korean concepts at Momofuku, either. But I’m willing to give his new joints a fair shot, and Moon Palace (located across the hall from the spanking new Majordomo), is a mini-burger empire whose time has come. Delicious from the first bite, and probably the apotheosis of the American slider.

Eiffel Tower Restaurant

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Sometimes, we go visit an old favorite hoping for the best but expecting less. Despite the great view and good service, this place is become way too touristy for any serious gastronome. The lunch menu was mainly sandwiches; the torchon of foie gras wasn’t as finely-tuned as it should have been, and the burger not worth the pain-in-the-ass trek it takes to get there from the parking lot. Methinks me and The Food Gal® have eaten our last meal here.

18bin

Image(Well kiss my biscuits)

Fingers are crossed that Louisiana native Jen Landry (above) can put this place on the culinary map. The menu seems promising, and the gal has a way with biscuits. If only the physical layout of the joint weren’t so shitty.

Graffiti Bao

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We liked Graffiti Bao, but didn’t love it enough to ever again travel to the far southwest to eat its bread-y, doughy dumplings. It didn’t help that each of the fillings (Szechuan beef, kung pao chicken and barbecue pork were almost indistinguishable in taste. Our Chinese-Korean dining companion was also put off by the burrata offering on the menu (with garlic-chili sauce and scallion pancake!) — a combination that makes as much sense as kimchi on a pizza. “White people trying too hard to be hip Asians,” she sniffed. And she’s probably right.

The Goodwich

Image(Move over Babe Ruth…and pastrami on rye)

The Patty (pictured above) deserves to be in the Sandwich Hall of Fame. It takes a while to melt all of that gooey cheese into the chopped beef, but the wait is always worth it.

Suzuya Patisserie & Cafe

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On South Buffalo,  a mini-micro-climate of hip Asian-fusion eats has sprung to life, with Suzuya, Graffiti Bao and Fukuburger all located within a stone’s throw of each other. Each space (like its surrounding shopping center) is spanking new, with all the polished, antiseptic charm of a mall food court. This seems to bother the patrons not at all, as from the get-go, Suzuya has been packed with customers both Asian and non-, in numbers that would’ve overwhelmed its original cracker-box location, a few miles west. Suzuya’s pastries are very French, but also a la Française as filtered through Japanese sensibilities, meaning: more delicate and less sweet. From the crowds we’ve observed, there seems to be a pent-up demand for this Sino-Franco fusion, as there should be.

Soyo Korean Barstaurant

Image(Who knew everything but the kitchen sink could be so tasty?)

Korean food baffles me. It’s intense, over-the-top, ingredient-heavy, starchy, spicy, gut-busting and soul-warming all in one. Korean food after a Japanese meal is like a NFL team lining up next to the Bolshoi Ballet. I love it but I don’t claim to understand it. If you want to do both, Soyo is a good place to start.

PublicUs

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I love croissants like a bear loves honey. Like a Pelosi loves impeachments; like a Trump loves beauty pageants. The ones at PublicUs might be the best in town. If not, they’re certainly in the top three.

Yum Cha

Image(Shrimply mouth-watering)

Our new go-to for dim sum. Not in Chinatown, but a real find on W. Tropicana with great prices, an open kitchen, a picture menu (great for dim sum beginners) and very attentive service.

Cornish Pasty Co.

(Belly bombs away!)

If you look up “stick to your ribs” in a dictionary, you’ll see a picture of a Cornish pasty.

El Dorado Cantina

That Ass Though Jennifer Lopez GIF - ThatAssThough JenniferLopez Shakira GIFs(Some buns get a rise out of us)

We spent $83 on Mexican food here. For 3 tacos, and bowl of soup, and appetizer and a beer. For eighty-three bucks I want mariachi music. Or Shakira shaking her ass in my face.  Never again.

Cipriani

Image(Baked, Béchamel’d, and beautiful)

I eat at Cipriani so often they ought to name a booth after me. I could eat its baked tagliolini with ham (above) every day of the week and never get tired of it. Like everything here, it is stunningly simple Italian food served by real pros who never miss a beat.  If you want to see what a great Italian ristorante looks like, this is the place. But don’t say I didn’t warn you about the gelato. You’ll be hooked from the first bite.

That’s 21 restaurants in 31 days — barely breaking a sweat by my standards.

Remember, I’m plowing all this ground so you don’t have to (kind of like a porn star). My continuing mission is to guide you to only the best of the best, so you will know where best to spend your dining out dollars.

We at Being John Curtas hope these posts are helpful to achieve these goals. But if any of this causes you menu envy, try to remember this German word to help you over your green-eyed hunger hurdles:

Futterneid is a compound noun which is made up of the words ‘food’ and ‘jealousy’. The German word ‘Futter’ translates as ‘animal feed’ or ‘fodder’, but is also used colloquially to describe human food. Futterneid translates into English literally  as ‘food jealousy’, but the more idiomatic ‘food envy’ is a better translation.

The word describes the highly relatable feeling when you simply order food at a restaurant wrong, and then have to suffer through the rest of the meal watching someone else eating something that looks and smells much better than what you have.

Examples:

Er war gestern abend wegen des Futterneids so mürrisch.

He was so grumpy yesterday evening because he was envious of the food.

Danke schoen to @thelocalGermany for giving us a word that is now an essential part of our eating vocabulary.

Prost!

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