SOLARA Lunch

Robin Leach took us to lunch the other day. It was beside The Palazzo pool at a Wolfgang Puck venue called Solara, and throughout the meal, so many bikinis walked past our table that we could barely concentrate on Chef Eduardo Perez’s picture perfect and light as a feather cuisine.

Since it’s on the third floor, and not open to the public per se, the only way to dine there is to show the security guy on the first floor your room key — or tell him you’re heading up to Solara for lunch.

Saying you just want to ogle the girls ain’t enough. But the food is so good (if a bit too healthy for a couple of trenchermen), you’ll be tempted not to look up from your plate.

But then you will. Repeatedly.

Because you’re a sucker for these things (good food and gorgeous girls).

Just like Leach and ELV.

Wednesday Farmers Market – Bruce Trent Park

Not many Farmers Markets allow you have a picnic right beside all those fresh, organic goodies. But every Wednesday, at Bruce Trent Park off Rampart, from 4-8pm you can fill up on Van Dyke fresh produce, eat some of Walter’s Cajun Ribs, and top it all off with some funnel cakes, all on the beach blanket of your choice.

This year marks the tenth anniversary of these markets, and by all accounts, this is the most successful one — perhaps because of the bucolic (for Vegas anyway) setting.

And when you’re there, don’t forget to make a beeline for Steve Johnson’s roasted corn — it sells out the quickest and is worth every piece of floss you’ll need to extract it from your teeth.

www.lasvegasfarmersmarket.com

Bad Omelet

You’ve heard of Bad Lieutenant. This was Bad Omelet.

We at ELV don’t know how a place that calls itself the Omelet House can make bad omelets, but somehow this place manages.

Omelets are supposed to be fluffy, precise and folded over, not a bunch of inartfully scrambled eggs stuffed with “chorizo” of no particular breeding, or recognizable spice.

The cheap cheddar cheese tweren’t nuthin’ to shout ’bout neither.

And the home fries were greasy, as in: too greasy for ELV.

And ELV loooooves his greasy home fried ‘taters

And from where we wuz sittin’, it didn’t look like they’ve dusted the plastic flowers that decorate this joint, or changed the carpets, since 1982 — when we first discovered it at the corner of Rancho and Charleston.

But it wuz cheap then, and it is cheap now.

Too bad it ain’t any good.

Our small chorizo omelet cost $6.95.

Just thought you’d like to know.

OMELET HOUSE

2160 West Charleston Blvd. #A

Las Vegas, NV 89103

702.384.6868