FLORIDA CAFE

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Is Cuban food a bad joke or what?

George Costanza got it right on Curb Your Enthusiasm: “I always get excited thinking about the prospect (of Cuban food); but the reality always disappoints me.”

Undaunted, we let ourselves get excited the other day and found ourselves craving a Cuban sandwich. Pork on pork with pickles and mustard….yummmm! And by gosh, some thick, rich black bean soup sounded good too!

On our way to the Florida Cafe we thought of Cuba. Of beautiful beaches and bodacious women, Tito Puente and crazy good Cohibas, Tony Montana, Ricky Ricardo and The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love.

Then we ate and all we could think of was bland and boring pork, with only the tiniest smudge of mustard and no pickles at all to liven things up.

Even worse was the tasteless…and we mean tasteless black bean soup. Frijoles negros: the most character-free of any famous dish in the world. Without the raw onions on top, it would have had no flavor at all.

How can this be? How can a Caribbean country so steeped in so much colorful tradition have such ridiculously tasteless food?

Perhaps when Cuba and the U.S. finally restore relations, we can restore some vim and vigor to this cuisine. Or maybe Cubans just like things unseasoned?

ELV thinks he’ll go dance a little mambo while contemplating such weighty concerns:

FLORIDA CAFE

1401 Las Vegas Blvd. South

Las Vegas, NV 89104

702.385.3031

www.floridacafecuban.com

BACHI BURGER

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Have you been to Bachi Burger? Is the question every semi-foodie, foodie-wannabe, and psuedo-hipster-foodie has asked ELV in the past few weeks.

And after one meal there, we’ve decided that’s just who this place is aimed at.

‘Cuz it sure ain’t aimed at people who love great hamburgers.

Unless you define a good burger as one that’s packed so tightly you’d swear it just came out of a freezer, is overcooked to death, and under seasoned to boot.

“Oh, but you’ve gotta try the Banh Mi burger,” they all told me. “It’s fabulous!”

It is if your definition of fabulous is, an overcooked mishmash of beef and pork, that’s once again way too dense and dry, and garnished with a piece of Vietnamese shrimp ball and a smattering of pickled vegetables.

“And you’ve gotta get the duck buns….Wow! They’re the best!” was yet another refrain we’ve heard from eaters who are apparently so starved for something that’s not a five dollar foot long, they’ll go ga-ga over the saltiest pieces of duck breast we’ve had in a coon’s age.

How salty were our Peking duck buns?

They were so salty:

– We’ll never be in danger of drowning again.

– Deer were lining up at the back door for a lick.

– The Mclhenny Company wants to mine them for Tabasco Sauce.

– The Dead Sea is jealous.

– Frito-Lay wants the recipe.

– Mormons are making pilgrimages here.

You get the picture.

Our guess is the enthusiasm over Bachi Burger is because it’s not a chain and it’s something new.

But finely ground, tightly packed, overcooked meat does not a great burger make.

Nor do lame imitations of Momofuku-type steamed bun sandwiches.

On the plus side, the burger buns were soft, sweet, eggy and fresh, and were, in retrospect, the best thing about the sandwiches.

It’s all very depressing to ELV, because, once again, some chef or restaurateur (cf. Lola’s, Carlito’s Burritos) strikes out with a good idea, and then can’t execute it, either because they’re undercapitalized, understaffed, or just plain too un-talented to pull it off.

Or maybe they will pull it off. Because people here are so starved for something different they’ll overlook the poor execution.

Or maybe that execution will improve.

Hope springs eternal.

BACHI BURGER

470 East Windmill Suite #100

Las Vegas, NV 89123

702.242.2244

http://www.bachiburger.com/

SEN OF JAPAN is Simply Sensational

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Hiromi Nakano‘s Sen of Japan has been humming along for years now, so sometimes we take it for granted. Shame on us for forgetting just how spectacular the food is here. So contrite did our staff feel, that recently, they stopped by (twice in one week ) to remind themselves about the subtlety and precision this kitchen is known for.

Before we go any further: Those of you who swear by Sushi Fever and I Love Sushi are hopeless cases, and we at ELV can/will do nothing to dissuade you from the wrong path you have chosen — into the land of gimmicky, sloppy sushi and away from ethereal eats — so please spare us any comments on how good they are.

Japanese food is all about superb ingredients, and the surgical-like, minimalist way a good chef treats them to bring out their best, intrinsic qualities. It is not about screaming orgasms and cream cheese concoctions (although Nakano has some of them on his menu to placate the philistines).  Nakano respects both his oeuvre, his country’s cuisine, his ingredients and his customers in dishing forth some of the most finely-tuned food to be found in town — all at prices that won’t have you reaching for a respirator.

The best way to experience his food is through an omakase dinner (gently priced at either $55 or $85/per) where he and his chefs compose a menu that builds through a ginger-spiced raw seafood salad with mango, to sparkling fresh kumamotos, to sablefish in that cliched miso glaze (that doesn’t taste cliched at all here), to sushi that is as as much about the sweetly-scented perfect rice as it is about the perfect slices of fish lain about them. When they do accents to those fish — be it pickled eggplant or a spicy red wine glaze) — the flavors of that rice and fish are accented just so, never by too much or too little — and every bite seems to be a revelation of the main ingredients — just the way Japanese food is supposed to be. His smoky, intense miso soup is also the best we’ve tasted in our humble burg.

In other words, what gussying up Nakano and his chefs do, they do with restraint and respect for the underpinnings of their cuisine.

Much of this subtlety is lost on Americans. We like our flavors big and bold, just like our movies and our actresses. Most American food is, likewise, about as subtle as a UFC cage match.  But take the time, think about what’s really happening on your plate (and in your mouth), and read this blog, and maybe you’ll begin to get the vibe.

But let’s face it, the only way you can really appreciate a country’s cuisine is to travel there and experience it first hand. So in that regard, most of us, ELV included, are no different than a Russian trying to make sense of American food based upon all the hamburgers and fried chicken he eats in Moscow.

Until we get to Tokyo (which, we hope, is this November), we’re content to cruise down west Desert Inn to Hiro’s place, for the best of this cuisine (at the best price) our town has to offer.

Kanpai!

SEN OF JAPAN

8480 W. Desert Inn #F1

Las Vegas, NV 89117

702.871.7781