Calvin Trillin once wrote that anytime you see a building with a picture of a pig on it, you can bet there’s good grub inside.
Yours truly has always said that barbecue is like sex: the worst we ever had was still pretty good.
Turns out both of us were wrong.
It’s everything a beef tartare should be: tender, beef-rich, tangy and deeply, desirous-ly, decadently, carnivorously-crave-worthy.
It has onions, capers, micro-greens and just the right dabs of mayo to bind all that beautiful beef together. (Plus, it has an egg-cellent yolk atop the whole kit and kaboodle to do the same thing.)
The whole enchilada only costs $12….and is unlike any other tartare in town.
“But I thought beef heart was always tough and chewy,” said ELV to Chef Sean Collins. “At least the ones I’ve always had.”
“That’s because they didn’t cut it the right way,” Collins replied.
“Against the grain is the way to do it,” he informed us.
And he was right, as usual, as is just about everything on this menu.
Just thought you’d like to know.
RADIO CITY PIZZERIA
508 East Fremont Street
Las Vegas, NV 89101
702.982.5055
Calling Radio City Pizzeria a pizza parlor is like calling Edward Snowden a problematic employee — both statements may be true, but they don’t tell you the half of it. Like Citizenfour, RCP is about to make some major waves; unlike America’s most prominent ex-pat, the only problem you’re going to have with this place is getting into it.
Before we dive in for your delectation, a little history is in order. RCP began its restaurant life in Tivoli Village a few years ago. It was a middling pizza joint at best, and disappeared quickly from that venue. It resurfaced on East Fremont Street a couple of years ago to a collective yawn. (A few bites of its so-so fare — a month or so after its opening — was all we needed to write the place off altogether.)
Late last year, Jake Leslie — one of the brains and brawn behind The Goodwich — took us aside, said he was planning something big downtown, and swore us to secrecy. (We didn’t have to swear much since he revealed almost nothing to us at the time.) Around New Year’s we noticed renovations going on to the interior of Radio City, but thought to ourselves: “They must be trying to put a silk hat on a pig,” and that was that.
Two weeks ago, a foodie friend* implored us to go with them to check out the food. “You’ve got to be kidding?” was ELV’s incredulous response to their entreaty. “Radio City Pizzeria? Why on earth would I waste my time and calories there?”
“Just wait,” they told us.
And so we went. And we waited.