His great aim was to escape from civilization, so, as soon as he had money, he went to southern California. – Anonymous
Just like Stacy’s mom, Holstein’s, the gastro-pub disguised as a big, boffo burger joint in The Cosmo, has got it goin’ on.
House-made charcuterie is only the tip of the iceberg. Six kinds of sausage are made in-house — ranging from Greek touri to French toulouse — and the mini-Chicago dogs are a way to satisfy your Chi-town fix without ingesting a carbo bomb — as long as you split one order three ways.
The dry-aged, “Gold Standard” burger is made with 21 day old dry aged beef from Imperial Meats in L.A. — to which choice chuck and scraps from other prime sirloin and rib eyes are added — bringing forth a clean, bright, rich burger beauty. Some might argue it’s too loaded (with smoked bacon, garlic-chive aioli and aged goat cheddar cheese) to take its place in the pantheon of Vegas’ perfect burgers, but there’s no doubting the quality of the grind and the juiciness of the result.
We also were taken with the pork belly buns — almost as good as Momofuku’s and miles better than what is peddled by certain popular purveyors off the Strip. And the radicchio salad — a big tangle of fresh purple red greens(?) showered with sheets of decent Parm, crawling with croutons, and awash in a strong, sherry-balsamic vinaigrette — might be the best salad ever conceived in a burger joint…anywhere. Even Laurent Tourondel — no slouch when it comes to building a better burger bar — was impressed.
And the desserts were no slouches either. The “Fat Elvis” comes complete with a microwaved brownie and peanut butter pudding, and the fromage blanc cheesecake-in-a-bowl is a gimmick that works….because it tastes so damn good.
Was Executive Chef Anthony Meidenbauer strutting his stuff for us? Of course, but that burger blend is there for everyone, the duck fat fries are a different, richer, and no less addictive take on the potato than Comme Ça’s, and the mini-shakes make a ton of sense for those wanting to indulge, albeit in a more restrained, mini-milk way.
As befitting a joint that hopes to do a thousand covers a day, the menu is broad and long and probably over-extends itself in trying to please everyone. You can get everything from a “New Dehli” chicken sandwich to a kalbi quesadilla here, but for our dinero (and rupees), we suggest restricting yourself to the ground and fermented wonders of this meat-market-par-excellence. But word to the wise: skip the vegetarian “Urth” burger. It tastes exactly like you would expect something to taste which is trying to be (and be spelled) like something it is not.
Other than that minor misstep, ELV must confess he knows it might be wrong, but he’s in love with Holstein’s buns.
LT picked up the check for one meal, and the other was comped.
In The Cosmopolitan Hotel and Casino
3708 Las Vegas Blvd. South
Las Vegas, NV 89109