THE FLAME Shines Brightly at the El Cortez

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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.

Restaurant Guide

The Flame
Inside the El Cortez, 600 Fremont St., 385-5200.
Recommended dishes: stone crab claws, $28/pound; fresh oysters, $10.50/6; French onion soup, $5; crab cakes, $11; steak Diane, $24; Walleyed pike, $18.
Recently Reviewed
Top of the World (5/5/10)

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.

Press Luncheon at TWIST by Pierre Gagnaire

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Nothing against the fourth estate mind you, but we never figured to be breaking bread with such literati illuminati as John Kats, Kate Bennett, Melinda Scheckells, Nikki Neu, Beth Schwartz, and everyone’s favorite punk rock restaurant critic: Al “Mad Man” Mancini, all at the same time!

Not to mention Norm!, Melissa Arseniuk, Sarah “The Feldbergian” Feldberg, and Slapsy Maxie Jacobson. Among the leading lights of our social, edible and entertainment media, only Robin Leach wasn’t present — due to a prior commitment.

And, of course, the R-J, that’s still figuring out that there might be some world famous food in these here parts.

ELV imagines a conversation at Stephens Media going something like this:

Editor Frank Feebilito: Hey Heidi, I hear that there’s someone named Pic, or Pack or Pluck or something who everyone knows in Los Angeles and has a good restaurant here. Heard of it?

Ace Restaurant Reporter Heidi Hyphenated: Well…er…yeah Frank. He’s been here for a while… 5 or 6 years at least.

FF: We should probably get on that. Our readers might just be interested — if we get them away from stuffing their Social Security into slot machines. Whaddya think?

HH: You know, you might be right! As soon as I get done reviewing the $1.99 steak and eggs breakfast at the Fiesta, I’ll look right into it!

FF: If the food is good, I might even put down this Subway sandwich and have a look at it myself. Have you heard of this guy Emeril Lee-Gas or something?

HH: Uh…well…yeah he’s been here for a while too.

FF: He’s not a foreigner is he?

HH: I don’t believe so…You know boss, there’s a lot of restaurants in town with chefs that are world fam…

FF: Do they speak with accents or have funny last names?

HH: Well, as a matter of fact some of them do, but you know, they are some of the best…

FF: Best schmest…if they ain’t Amurican, we ain’t interested. I bet some of them fancy dancies even come from….FRANCE!

HH: Well, yes. but…

FF: Then fuggidabbadit…I hear there’s a new cook at Golden Corral who’s does a mean, 50 cent gumbo.

HH: I’m on it boss.

And so it goes.

On some level, we are sorry the food revolution that put our town on the world’s gourmet map has completely escaped its main newspaper. On another, that same paper is so irrelevant to this aspect of our community, it hardly matters.

We understand the R-J prides itself on the relative anonymity of it’s reviewer. And we know she pays for all her meals. But as a feature writer, Heidi Knapp Rinella should be given free reign to cover something as important as Vegas Uncork’d (and a private luncheon with Pierre Gagnaire) — and we think she could do a bang up job of it, if her bosses would take their heads out of their lowest-common-denominators.*

Had she appeared at the Twist luncheon, she would’ve been treated to a menu celebrating Spring and all of the American purveyors that PG and his chef/lieutenant Pascal Sanchez rely upon in creating one of America’s most creative, intelligent, and compelling menus.

And what a menu it is.

Maine lobster with coriander-Liebig sauce started things off. You don’t know what Liebig sauce is? Fool! Why, it’s a gelatinized vegetable broth flavored with cilantro and coriander. Duh! (Truth be told, we had to ask too…)

From there it was on to scallops three ways that even impressed Slapsie Maxie — he a scallop loather from way back. (Neither ELV nor Max truly hate scallops; they’ve just been overdone by chefs to the point of tediousness and cliche.)

Confronted with a carpaccio of such shellfish, topped with a bright red blob of Campari and rum “wurtz” — we were taken aback, as is common with much of Gagnaire’s food, and slightly unsure of how to proceed. But we dove right in, and experienced an odd-but-compelling “surf and turf” of the first order. Earthy beets, bitter booze and sweet, sweet shellfish (courtesy of Miss Cathy in Santa Monica) combined in the mouth into something ethereal — tightrope walking cuisine, without a net, that somehow works.

From there the meal progressed to a veloute of Sonoma Valley Foie Gras — better, Sanchez told us, for grilling and cooking, while he prefers the Hudson Valley product for terrines. Ah, the French! This foie “soup” came with a ewe cheese ice cream that gave a nice, tangy bite to the proceedings. Then came Confuscious Duck a la Sylvia Prizant of the Four Story Hill Farm in Pennsylvania — an allspice-d stew from (what seems to be) the provider of lamb and duck for every great chef in America these days.

Four desserts later (pictured above), we were out the door.

If Eating Las Vegas were asked to distinguish between the cooking styles of our three great French restaurants, it would say Joel Robuchon is the most elaborate, Guy Savoy the most straightforwardly French, and Gagnaire the most intellectual and creative. If you want to be dazzled — Robuchon is a must. Savoy is where you go to be cosseted in comfort and drink that bottle of 1989 Domaine de la Romanee-Conti you’ve been saving. Gagnaire is there when you want to think about all the glorious possibilities modern, global French cuisine can place before you. Between them, we now have a holy trinity of French cuisine in our backyard that only Paris (France, not Texas) can match.

Think about that for a minute.

Because our local newspaper doesn’t.

TWIST by Pierre Gagnaire

In the Mandarin Oriental Hotel

3725 Las Vegas Blvd. South

Las Vegas, NV 89109

702.590.3205

http://www.mandarinoriental.com/lasvegas/dining/twist/

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* Lest you think this is just about the R-J’s coverage of great chefs and fine dining, we’re not sure anyone there is even remotely aware of the existence of Spring Mountain Road either.