Breaking Martorano’s Balls

We don’t know what’s more offensive about this ode to the Sopranos in the Rio: the glare, the stare, the unappetizing tats, or the $23 meatball on the menu.

The egotistical entreaty: “Don’t break my balls.” printed on the menu is a lame, preemptive strike against any Paulie Walnuts wannabe who might complain about the excessive prices, and the highly mediocre Southern Italian food. Single diners aren’t allowed at tables (even when the place is empty, and likely to remain that way for hours), and no one is allowed to drink cocktails in the dining room for fear of corrupting such innovative recipes as chicken parmagiana and veal marsala.

That $23 meatball, is no joke either, and whether you are a meatball, or just love them, you’ll find better ones at Rao’s just down the street.

Bouchon’s Beautiful Bivalves

Bouchon has come in for more than a little criticism from yours truly over the years. It’s a copy of a copy and has exactly the soul of one. But there’s no denying that it consistently has the best oysters in Las Vegas (RM and Morel’s are a close second and third), and the moules frites are just as memorable. The menu as a whole doesn’t push any envelopes, and the wine list is booooring-(whassup with that Thomas?)-but there’s no denying the beauty of those Kumamotos, Dabobs or Fanny Bays.

Everything’s Not Okay at Dos Caminos

IS EVERYTHING OKAY? (listen at KNPR)
 Well no, it’s not, but I’m going to keep my pie hole shut about it.

It’s the biggest lie told in restaurants, right down there with “homemade”-which never is; and “fresh” – which almost always isn’t.

No we’re talking about your response to the age-old question: “And how is everything sir” or “Is everything prepared to your liking” or “How is it?” usually asked anywhere from 5 to 10 seconds after the food shows up. The lie we all tell is anything from: “Fine, thank you” to “Everything’s great” even when it’s not.

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