The Best Restaurant in Town

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Quality is always inversely proportional to quantity. – Lionel Pôilane

There are passion restaurants and there are money restaurants.

Passion restaurants are imbued with a feeling — a personal connection between staff and client — which is palpable. The people behind them are to the kitchen born, and can’t imagine themselves doing anything else.

Restaurants in it solely for the shekels betray themselves with a vibe (sometimes subtle, sometimes not so) which says, “you’re just a number to us.”

Ferraro’s is a passion restaurant; Raku is a passion restaurant; Tao is a money restaurant. Esther’s Kitchen began as a passion project but is now about to morph into the Denver Mint.

To be “The Best Restaurant in Las Vegas” you have to treat cooking as a religion, not a job. To be the best at anything, you have to be driven by something other than profit. When you think about things that way, the field gets very narrow, very quickly.

Before you jump down my throat faster than slippery bivalve, no one has to remind me that all taste is subjective and “the best” of anything is a concept more nebulous than a Donald Trump stump speech.

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My idea of what makes a restaurant “the best” are probably far different from yours. By “the best”, I mean an eatery of quintessential excellence, which brings a spiritual intensity and machine-like consistency to the table. Decor means little or nothing to me; service is important, but not primary; and the dazzle factor must all be on the plate.

Your idea of the best in town might be a plush, no expense spared beef emporium, dripping with umami and testosterone. Or it could be an elegant Italian, smooth as Gucci leather, where they always know your name and the pasta is nonpareil. Perhaps you put a greater emphasis on intensive care service, or cartwheels in the kitchen. Some of us seek adventure in eating; others crave familiarity. But there are standards, and we at ELV are here to uphold them.

So, for purposes of this discussion, these are the essentials…

Things it must be:

Singular, i.e., not part of a chain, a group or empire

Chef-driven

Food-focused

Made-from-scratch-centric

Quiet

Comfortable

Seasonal

Small

Serious (but not too)

Things it must not be:

Too big

Too popular

Too corporate

Too commercial

Too many recipes

Too many clowns – as customers or in the kitchen

Filled with men showing off or women whooping it up – but I repeat myself

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Twenty-four-seat Japanese restaurants (with seven-seat sushi bars) are as far from a money restaurant as the Fountainebleau is from VRBO.

Which brings us to a sliver of a space, impossible to see from the street, tucked into an obscure corner of Chinatown. It sits behind a tire shop and to the left of an obscure Persian restaurant. If you don’t know what you’re looking for, you can be standing right in front of it and not know you’re mere feet away from a gastronomic trip to Japan –without the language barrier or a 13 hour plane flight.

Beyond the noren, the front door at Kaiseki Yuzu leads you into a dark, narrow hallway, decorated in spare, Japanese style, leading to the 30 seat kaiseki restaurant at its end. To your left (inches from the threshold) is a curtain leading to those six seats (above) and the most personally-crafted meal you can have in Las Vegas.

What chef-owner Kaoru Azeuchi (pictured at top of page) and his wife Mayumi have done since moving into this shoebox four years ago is remarkable. Not only have they garnered a James Beard Finalist nomination, but they have raised the bar for Japanese food in Las Vegas in a manner not seen since Mitsuo Endo opened Raku back in 2008.

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The kaiseki menu (above) — hyper-seasonal and glorious in its own right — is the main point of the restaurant. For the uninitiated, kaiseki is a very particular form of Japanese prix fixe dining (originally for the nobility), centered on precious ingredients, sourced at the peak of flavor, and fashioned into minimalist, edible art. Kazeuchi is a master of the craft, using the food chain (from the humblest of vegetables to the most exotic beef) to provide him a palette from which he creates masterpieces both visual and edible. If more beautiful food exists in Las Vegas, we haven’t found it.

The sushi bar at Kaiseki Yuzu wows you in a different way. The menu is the same price ($165/pp) as the $165 Chiku kaiseki, with fewer proteins than or the more luxurious Shou ($210) set. The emphasis at the bar is on Osaka-style sushi and pristine fish — an omakase experience where you sit back and enjoy the ride, because each of the ten or so dishes placed before you will concentrate your senses on the sublime expression of each ingredient.

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Chef John Mau (above) — a Michael Mina veteran — has commanded the sushi space since it opened last August. With a helpful assistant at his side (shout-out to Olivia!) he slices, dices, and explains everything from the five Zensai bites which start your meal to that impeccably chosen sushi to the Kanburi (yellowtail)  in a hypnotic shabu-shabu broth, whose crystalline appearance belies its potency.

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Deceptively simple is a phrase often used to describe Japanese cuisine — where much more is always going on than meets the eye. So it is here with everything from the translucent rice to the immaculate fish. Even something as prosaic as a spicy tuna handroll is given new definition by being chopped before you, and barely folded into napkins of nori — echoing the sea in all its vegetal, sweet and saline glory.

Having a chef  in such close proximity, in the presence of such unsullied seafood, makes this a personal experience unlike any other in town.  The windowless room (very Japanese that) wraps you like a warm hug, and the gestalt of all three combines to make you do one thing: think about sushi like you’ve never considered it before. Every nuance is heightened; every bite attains a higher purpose — a commiseration between the animals which sustain us and the humans who enhance their taste. All done while making food delicious enough to send a happy shudder up my spine.

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There is an intimacy born of a great Japanese dining experience which the West rarely approaches. It is born out of trust and respect between chef and customer. You are placing yourself in their hands (literally), and both sides recognize a bond created by what the chef will hand-craft to please, enlighten, and nourish you. The rawness of the cuisine, and its insistence upon absolute freshness, coupled with the hand-molding of almost every course demands this level of faith.

Japanese chefs make food taste most like itself, all while making it appetizing and beautiful. There is a distillation to the essence of things which informs their cuisine. There is no place to hide in a Japanese meal. If you give yourself over to it, you start appreciating why French chefs in the latter part of the last century flocked to Japan. It wasn’t only because the Japanese were micro-plating food decades before any Frenchman had heard of tweezering micro-greens. It was because this is high amplitude restaurant food in its purest expression. Kaiseki Yuzu is the closest thing we have to a trip to the Land of the Rising Sun, and it is right on our doorstep. There is no more unique, delightful, or passionate restaurant anywhere in Las Vegas.

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The List – February 2023

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If you have an appetite for life, stay hungry.

Such has been my mantra for 50 years. Half a century of searching for the best things to shove down the ole pie hole.

And apparently, I’m not done yet. Our new podcast — Eat. Talk. Repeat.  (w/ Sam Mirejovsky and Ashley Watkins) — is keeping me busy most weeks, searching for good meals and food topics of interest. As long as someone is listening, I’ll still be flapping my gums.

Who am I kidding? I’d still be gasbagging away even if no one was around to hear me. At this point, I’m having fun eating what I want where I want when I want, and not being controlled by the dictates of putting out a guidebook (although that was a blast while it lasted), or paid-for writing gigs. Being on podcasts and not having to actually produce one is more fun than shooting monkeys in a barrel. Color me happy as a clam in linguine.

Along the same lines, I am determined to champion the great food of our Chinatown as long as I can pick up a chopstick. To that end, I’ve started an Asian Lunch Bunch with a few writers, influencers, and other Asian aficionados to figure out ways to help the best places along and around Spring Mountain Road, many of which do not have the savvy or wherewithal to do much marketing on their own. Suffice to say, when we invade, the food photogs are out in force (see pic at top of page).

It’s been nine years since I did a survey of every place along SMR. In 2014, there were 112 eateries up and down the three miles between Valley View and Rainbow. I’d venture the number has almost doubled since then. Shanghai Plaza alone has almost twenty restaurants in it, and several other strip malls have popped up in the past few years — each studded with eateries from all over the Pacific Rim.

If there’s a food scene for which Las Vegas should be famous in the 2020’s, it should be this one. The Strip (with a few exceptions) has become more boring than a Donny and Marie concert. It’ll be interesting to see what Fontainbleau brings to the party, but when Martha Stewart, Peter Luger (a 136 year old brand) and the Voltaggio Brothers (whoever they are) are the best you can do, you’re just milking the old cows for all they’re worth. And as much as we love Vetri Cucina, Balla, Cipriani, and Brezza (and have had nice experiences at Amalfi by Bobby Flay and RPM), if one more Italian opens to a bunch of forced fanfare, I’m gonna commit seppuku with a splintered chopstick.

As usual, every place listed has been visited by me recently (and by recently I mean the last six weeks), and all places come highly recommended unless otherwise noted.

THE LIST

Vetri Cucina

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Best Italian in town. Don’t even think about arguing with me about this.

Need proof? Here ya go:

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Osteria Fiorella

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Sorta like Vetri-lite, but still damn tasty at a friendlier price point, with outdoor seating and the same great cocktails and wine. The weird-looking pizza above (mortadella/capicola  with pistachios) raised an eyebrow when ordered but then sent a shiver down our spine when we tasted it. Marc Vetri’s food will do that to you.

Sparrow + Wolf

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Brian Howard’s food can astonish, and it can confuse, but it’s always damn tasty, vividly composed and never boring. Witness the gnocchi with sweetbreads above — garnished and sauced to a fare thee well.

The Daily Bread

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Go early. go often, for the best artisanal baked goods you’ll ever taste next to a fake lake.

Chengdu Taste

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The best of Szechuan, tucked away behind Spring Mountain Road and impossible to get into at dinner. Pro tip: Go early for lunch — like around 11:30.

Pro tip #2: Bring a crowd. This food is best enjoyed family-style with 3-6 folks at a table.

Pro tip #3: Bring a firehose (see below).

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Sen of Japan

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A granddaddy among our sushi mainstays. Still brings the goods and always comforting, always welcoming, even if it doesn’t compete (or try to match) the higher end Japanese joints opening up everywhere these days. The $100 omakase is a steal.

Marché Bacchus

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Bradley Ogden has taken the helm of one of the toughest gigs in town. He’s not ready to retire and has a kitchen expansion (sorely needed) and menu upgrade in mind. Restaurants are like sharks: they have to constantly move forward or die. If Ogden can pull it off, he’ll have a Great White on his hands.

PublicUs

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First-class coffee; house-baked savories and sweets; incredible bread; never a misstep for nine straight years. And me and The Food Gal® come here, all. the. time. PublicUs is a downtown phenomenon: a major success in a location that defines the term “challenging.” But its customers know quality when they taste it and this place  never fails to deliver the goods.

Pro tip: Breakfast is faster than lunch, but both can be maddeningly slow at peak times (they make everything to order and slowness is the price you pay). Go early or go elsewhere if you’re in a hurry. Or show up Sunday mornings at 7:00 am like we do and be the first in line.

ShangHai Taste

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We don’t get into “Who has the best xiao long bao?” debates. Soup dumplings are like sex: the worst we ever had was still pretty good. (Funny how women never agree with this statement.) That said, these are the best, and Jimmy and Jeng Li are two of Chinatown’s treasures.

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We temporarily interrupt this food blog bloviation for a….Nusr-Et v. Yukon Pizza BURGER THROWDOWN! 

How do you take your burgers? Thick and juicy and dripping with onion jam:

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….or are you more of a griddled, smashburger kinda person?

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However you grind it, these two beauts will take your breath away. Nusr-et’s at $32 is a wonder of barely-held-together, fatty wagyu, slicked with fat and dripping with beefy intensity. Yukon’s double-burger ($14) took me straight back the Steak ‘N Shake steakburgers of my youth, and with its house-made pickles, American cheese,  grilled onions and sweet/tangy sauce is the last word in ground Maillard-reactive meat umami.

We’ve pitted these two meat patties against each other in our head for weeks, and can’t decide on a winner. Nusr-et is open for lunch and is always empty, so your burger will get special attention if you’re the only one in the joint. Yukon is open for service continu (as the Frogs say) every day but Monday and Tuesday, and has been a hit from the jump, so you’ll have to either call ahead or elbow your way in. Good luck solving this delicious connundrum.

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Yukon Pizza

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Best dim sum? Top burger? Pizza wars? Who cares? The only thing that counts is quality, and Yukon has it in spades. The tiny space (seating about a dozen, tops) has been crowded every moment since it opened with pizza hounds who know a properly blistered and charred cornicione when they taste one. Between the pies and the burger, I’m going to have trouble keeping The Food Gal® away from this place.

Those Guys Pies

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Come for the pizza; stay for the cheesesteak. Actually, there’s no staying at The Lakes location — it’s take-out only.

Consumer warning: the “Pizza Margherita” should renamed Pizza Garlicrita — best eaten alone or far away from any sentient human beings.

Manizza’s Pizza

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Ash Watkins said this pizza ranked 37th in the United States on Yelp’s list of “Best Pizzas in America” (#eyeroll), so we had to trek out to the southwest to taste for ourselves. Yelp rankings always smack of paid-for advertising, and this joint is obviously playing the game. It’s a decent facsimile of a deck oven New York slice and that’s about it. (#Yelpsucks)

Prime Steakhouse

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What doesn’t suck is this grand dame — still, after 25 years, the prettiest steakhouse in America. The menu’s barely changed in that time, and the tuna tartare is way too cold and the mixed “Greek” salad not that great and the crab cake too deep fried…but we still hold it dear to our hearts…mainly because the steaks and the sauces (and the Parmesan-crusted chicken) still tickle our fancy:

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Jamon Jamon Tapas

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We’re sad about Chef Rafael moving his hard-to-find ode to Spanish cuisine all the way to Henderson, but we’ll be happy for him if he finds a more appreciative audience out there. His food is an exquisite rendering of the best of Spain, with paellas like you won’t find anywhere not named Jaleo. He plans on moving at the end of April, so get your jamon Iberico fix in now before he disappears into the wilds of Boulder Highway.

Weera Thai (3 locations) –

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The new one on south Rainbow is stunning (above). The slightly older one in Chinatown is a smaller version and the perfect venue to tuck into some roast duck  pad Thai or pumpkin red curry. The original on west Sahara is no less popular, and between the three of them, you’re never too far from some incendiary Khua Kling, bone broth soup, or a ginormous pork shank:

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Balla

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If Vetri Cucina tops them all these days, Shawn McClain’s Balla is running a close second. It’s menu isn’t quite as adventurous and the setting is not as dramatic, but it’s easier to get to, the short wine list is a knockout, and everything from the artichokes to the bomboloni (above) tastes like they were imported from Rome. The wood-fired veal Milanese and lamb tartare are not to be missed. This old beet hater even found something to like for McClain’s beets — dripping with agrodolce (a sweet/sour dressing) and festooned with mint and hazelnuts.

After two visits, we can’t wait for a third.

Main Street Provisions –

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Patrick Munster is killing it with a gutsy menu that fits downtown like a hipster’s fedora.

Toscana Ristorante & Bar

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There are so many great Italians in town right now, hauling one’s ass to the far reaches of whatever they’re calling the Monte Carlo these days to eat makes about as much sense as putting your paycheck on double-aughts at roulette. Regardless, haul our sizeable arse we did to Eataly for a San Marzano tomato tasting that confirmed why I stopped going to press events ten years ago.

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For the record: the tomatoes were great (see the pappa al pomodoro above) and the restaurant perfectly fine, but putting out 100+ plates of the same, tepid food at the same time is no way to deliver pasta…or rice. Risotto waits for no one, and is almost impossible to serve at volume. Most of the crowd didn’t notice the gumminess though — they were just happy to be eating for free.

Raku

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For my money, Raku is Las Vegas’s greatest restaurant — a chopstick-dropping combination of precise cooking, authentic recipes, pristine ingredients, and unwavering  consistency…for fifteen years. Strictly for Japanese fanatics, though. Raku is not the place to ooh and aah over enormous slabs of A-5, or tuna the size of a canoe. Everything is about subtlety and precision here. If you don’t like your fish with eyeballs, look elsewhere. I’ve never had a bad meal at Raku; I’ve never even had a bad bite. If there is such a thing as an exquisite izakaya, this is it.

We broke the story on social media a couple of weeks ago about Mitsuo Endo taking over the convenience store fifty feet away from Raku’s front door, and turning it into a “members only” omakase restaurant with only eight seats. We intend to be a member.

Serrano’s Mexican Food

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Everyone should have a default Mexican hole-in-the-wall and this one is ours. Nothing super special, just solid renditions of chilaquiles and a nice Mexican pizza (above).

Mg Patisserie

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…where Michael Gillet runs the cutest little French pastry shop in all of Vegas — hand-crafting the best of France all by his lonesome in a spot which is too good for its location.

Yen Viet Kitchen

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Vietnamese food tastes maddeningly the same to us, no matter what the restaurant. Or so we thought, until we took one sip of the cleanest, clearest, most intensely rich broth in our Bún Bò Hué (above)  we’ve encountered up and down SMR. Shockingly good, and the perfect antidote to the same old same old pho parlor. P.S. the Banh xeo (a huge crispy turmeric rice flour pancake) was a show-stopper as well. As are the soups. All of them.

Carson Kitchen

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We hit CK at the very end of last year to give its new menu a spin. There wasn’t a clinker in the bunch as we plowed through grilled oysters (above), roasted cauliflower, wild boar tacos, and a crispy, deeply succulent sandwich most foul which we called “Kentucky Fried Duck.”  A new expansion has opened an outdoor patio in the back of the restaurant, but we think a seat at the six-person bar is still the way to go. CK has always been too industrial (and too loud) for our tastes, but there’s no denying the talent in the kitchen. This new menu reminds us of why it was love at first bite, almost nine years ago.

Esther’s Kitchen

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“That place is so crowded no one goes there anymore,” is our favorite saying about this place. Can you believe it’s been five years since James Trees started the Arts District culinary revolution? People who says it’s lost its fastball don’t know what they’re talking about. The can get slammed, putting both the kitchen and bar in the weeds, but when the drinks and dishes show up, all is forgiven.

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And now for something completely different. | Monty Python | Know Your Meme

For the umpteenth time in the past four decades, I tried to find something to like about Filipino food. Hungry as hell one day last month, I scurried over to some rando roach coach near City Hall and walked away with this pork belly sisig:

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…hoping against hope to find some appealingly porky rice with which to sate my hunger. What I found was some sour, off-tasting melange of chopped veg and protein bits which seriously detracted from a fine slice of crisp, fatty belly. The thick, dull lumpia didn’t help the cause, nor did waiting almost 20 minutes for my order…when I was the only one in line. At this point, I’ve concluded most food found in the Philippines was conceived on a dare, and the reason Filipinos are so skinny is they never overeat, for good reason. Or maybe to get the good stuff you have to go to someone’s home. Either way, include me out.

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Let’s end on a high note, shall we? Rather than dwell on Filipino food fails, let us celebrate the best service staff in Las Vegas, and some squid:

Cipriani

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Everyone knows the service at Cipriani is the tits….but we wouldn’t be there multiple times a month if it weren’t for dishes like this:

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Squid ink risotto (Risotto al Nero di Seppia), may not be everyone’s cup of cephalopod, but it’s as faithful to the flavors of Venice as a gondola.

Latest Wait What GIFs | Gfycat

Regardless of mixed metaphors, the fact remains that the Big C puts out the best lunch in Vegas. You find me a better one and I’ll come to your restaurant three times a month, too.

At my age, I’m too old to eat in mediocre restaurants anymore, and at my age, can you blame me?

Cheers!

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Tastes Like Chicken

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Remember all the things you used to take for granted? Your health? A job? Walking around without looking ridiculous? Shopping? Going out to eat whenever you felt like it? Overpaying for food on the Las Vegas Strip?

Almost nothing is as it was four months ago, but some degree of normalcy has returned, once you get a table inside a good restaurant.

Yes, the staff will be speaking in muffled tones (and this will infuriate the both of you), and yes, the seating has been re-jiggered in many places at  awkward angles, but by and large, once the grub start showing up, you won’t be disappointed. The restaurants that were good-to-great before the Panic of 2020 hit are still putting out delicious meals, and surprisingly, there are openings planned which have us excited (one of which happens this week – see below).

These openings aren’t happening on the Strip as much as off it….as the Strip now resembles nothing so much as a giant, three mile long aircraft carrier that has been bombed and strafed into submission. No one knows the extent of the damage done, and they’re getting underway without a clue as to how seaworthy the old rustbuckets are.

Some encouraging notes:

High altitude eating got a boost this past week with the opening of Restaurant Guy Savoy in Caesars Palace. No need for much social distancing at its elegant, well-spaced tables, but the champagne bar is usually where you’ll find us, noshing on nibbles and perusing one of America’s greatest wine lists. Going there tonight, actually. (Ed. note: went last night, dropped a bundle, had a whale of a time. ;-))

Elio has opened in the Wynn. We have a res later this week and are totally jazzed about its take on modern Mexican gastronomy. Our meal last summer at Cosme in NYC was one of the highlights of 2019. As with most big deal meals in town, it will only be open on Thursday-Saturday for dinner.

Speaking of big deals: three very different restaurants had us jumpin’ for joy in the last week. One of them will open to the public this Friday and was a dinner most fowl:

This is No Yolk: Raku Toridokoro Opens Friday

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Yes, we’re talking about an entire meal comprised (mostly) of chicken parts. But the star of the show was….wait for it…chicken sashimi!

Peck-uliar I must admit, but also, flocking amazing. A flight of fancy, if you will. A notable chef’s beak performance no doubt.

So without feather ado, I’ll give you a hent….and a bird’s eye view.

We’re talking conspicuous chicken here. Like nothing Vegas has seen before. No one is more fanatical about their fowl than the Japanese, and their chefs usually have a bag of chicks up their sleeve….which makes for eggcellent dining.

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Yep, raw chicken. eaten by the slice, like sushi. Not a lot of it, a couple tender slices (of breast, gizzard and liver) will do ya.

It exists, in Japan, and, like fugu, is quite safe if the chef/restaurant knows what it’s doing. In this instance, the chef in question is Mitsuo Endo — the chef/owner of Raku and Raku Sweets. You can take it on faith that he knows what he’s doing.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that Americans won’t freak the fuck out over it. Because freaking the fuck out over foreign foods is what Americans do.

Let’s get to the details, shall we?

The restaurant in which you will be sampling your chicken sashimi will open on July 3. It is called Raku Toridokoro (toridokoro = poultry house). It is not just a simple yakitori parlor, although lightly seared chicken skewers will be a substantial part of your meal.

The restaurant occupies the space formerly occupied by Tatsujin X — one of our 52 Essential restaurants for EATING LAS VEGAS 2020 — which closed within weeks of the book being published late last year. This incarnation promises to be more crowd-friendly and compelling, capturing more the izakaya-vibe of its namesake, as well as serving things unheard of in Las Vegas before…like raw chicken parts.

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The raw poultry parts you will eat will not be slimy or old or taken from the outer flesh of the bird. They will be quickly poached (as you will see on the exterior) to kill some outside bacteria and firm up the meat.

Don’t worry, if you chicken out (sorry, that pun wrote itself), the restaurant provides a very hot rock (above) for you to quickly sear/cook the meat thoroughly. Texture-wise it’ll remind you of lean blue fin or Big Eye tuna. Taste-wise it is almost sweet, but very, very mild. With your eyes closed you wouldn’t peg it as poultry until the merest hint of fresh, raw chicken taken from the refrigerator surprises your back palate.

This rarest of rare treats (and a Vegas first) is only one small course in a multi-plate production spanning the entire length of the bird. Skin, gizzards, liver, heart, you name it, almost everything except the pecker.

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You will start with an appetizer platter served in a basket, and end with what might be the richest chicken soup you’ve ever tasted without cream in it.

In between will be skewer after skewer of different parts, each of them challenging your preconceptions about this (heretofore) bland bird. Endo-san can be credited with jump-starting our Asian food revolution in 2008, when he opened Raku. With it he took Japanese food to another level. People were ewwwing and ahhhing then over such exotica as beef liver sashimi, dried sardine salad, monkfish livers, and uni custard back then. Now they’re as common as California rolls. Well, almost.

Life is short, pilgrim. It’s time to enjoy it to the fullest. Eating dangerously is the best revenge (even though it is not that dangerous). But don’t dispel your friends’ fears, exploit them!  Dive in and take the accolades. It’s really not a big deal, but don’t tell them that. Eating chicken sashimi will give you bragging rights among your gastronautic comrades for years to come. They’ll look at you as the Tenzing Norgay of poultry, the Sir Edmund Hillary of farm-to-table conquests.

See for yourself and eat here soon, before a reservation is harder to get than a martini at a Mormon wedding.

Tacos, Tacos y mas Tacos!

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When you walk into a Mexican restaurant, and the chips and salsas blow you away from the first bite, you know you’re on solid ground.

Chef Jose Aleman calls Sin Fronteras a “no Tapatio zone” and a splash of any of his five, “grandma sauces” will convince you never to hit that bottle again. He charges a buck apiece for them and they’re worth twice that much. We’re partial to the Verde and Roja (both on the mild side), but there’s not a loser in the bunch, and the Morita (habanero chipotle), and the arbol-based Diablo will light you up and set you free from the tyranny of Mexican tepidness which infects what so many think of as true south-of-the-border flavor.

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These are salsas where the fruit and piquancy and smoke of the base ingredients come through — as far from bottled or canned Mexican salsas as a fresh corn tortilla is from a bag of Doritos. But the salsas and the house-made, addictive chips are just the beginning. You won’t find better nachos (above) anywhere this far north of Piedras Negras, and the chile relleno (stuffed with melted Oaxacan cheese and swimming in roasted tomato salsa) is a thing of beauty:

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And we haven’t even gotten to the tacos yet.

Suffice it to say they are great across the board, using meat, veggies, cheese and those sauces which put them light years beyond what you find in your standard neighborhood, straight-from-Sysco taco assembly line. Spoon-tender carnitas, smoky carne asada, crisp, non-greasy chorizo — these tacos are given a proper chef’s touch, befitting Aleman’s former stints in top-flight restaurants on and off the Strip.

At this point we’re tempted to say you won’t find any better tacos anywhere in Vegas. You certainly won’t find better salsas. It may be in an odd location — sort of a restaurant no man’s land at Tenaya and Alexander in the northwest — but wherever you’re coming from, you’ll find the trip was worth it. The churros alone are worth the trip.

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Something for Everyone…in a Sports Bar…Go Figure

I generally hate something-for-everyone restaurants and sports bars, but if I had to choose between the lesser of two evil meals, I’d pick the latter every time. Sports bars may not be known for great food, but within a narrow range, they can fill the bill. Salt and fat rule. Paltry pizza, afterthought burgers, frozen wings, and flabby fries. all of it soaked in ranch dressing. (Yuck!) Expectations are always low and usually exceeded, at least if you’ve parked five beers, your team is winning, and the waitress has a nice rack.

A postcard displaying a Howard Johnson&#39;s restaurant location in Bedford, Pa., featuring the chain&#39;s traditional Georgian-inspired style.(When quality reigned over quantity)

Something-for-everyone eateries are the enemy of good cooking. The specter of the dreaded “family restaurant” looms over all of them. The HoJo’s of my youth (above) were, in fact, family restaurants, but they didn’t call themselves that.

Howard Johnson’s was all about feeding families, but it gets a pass because it was divine — 28 flavors, fried clams, twin, butter-grilled hot dogs (called “Frankforts”) in those cradle buns, chicken pot pies with flaky crusts  — food overseen in later years by chefs like Pierre Franey and Jacques Pépin. (True!) It was, as far as I’m concerned, the last family restaurant in America worth a split-top.

The Howard Johnson's hot dog. Buttered, split top, and grilled ...

Simple Simon and the Pieman may be long gone, but their legacy lives on. From Olive Garden to Cheesecake Factory, chain restaurants serving standardized, all-over-the-map fare are HoJo’s progeny. They prove daily that it really is impossible to do cross-cultural cooking under one roof with any authority. But, if you downsize, and put your cooking in the hands of a real chef, there are exceptions to the rule that culinary genres should never mix on one menu.

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And by “exceptions” I mean the Wolfgang Puck organization — the only collection of chefs I know who seem to be able to toggle between cooking styles and genres without missing a bean sprout.

They kept the flame alive at Player’s Locker over the three-month lock-down, and now they’re seating customers like nothing ever happened. Of course the tables look strewn about willy nilly — but big comfy booths let you social distance without feeling like you’ve been sent to detention.

The menu includes a lot of “best hits” from the Puck oeuvre, but you won’t be disappointed with any of them. If you’re looking to feed a crowd (whether of picky eaters or picky epicureans). it’s probably your safest bet this side of Spago, which is no coincidence.

Image(I’m really piggy when it comes to a porcine of interest)

It’s hard to find fault with any of it: great breads, good pizza, serious sandwiches, a killer burger, garlic shrimp, meatloaf, pastas, superb roast chicken, the famous Chinese chicken salad… good god this place even had me (a noted hummus hater) eating hummus…. All of them co-exist easily on a menu full of confidence and bold flavors.

The ribs are KC-style and righteous — easily pulled from the bone, but not falling off it, served under a blanket of thick, dark, sweet sauce and with some honey-sweetened cornbread my Georgia relatives would recognize.

Image(Poultry in motion – Puck’s chicken enchilada)

Even the deeply-spiced chicken enchiladas got our attention, as did the house-made pickles, the onion rings, the apple pie, banana pudding, you name it…It’s hard enough to run a restaurant where they do a couple of these things well, but Chef Robert Rolla and his mentors have an attention to detail a lot of sloppier places (some within a few hundred feet of this one) could learn from.

Player’s Locker is basically a good restaurant masquerading as a sports bar.  You could also call it a family restaurant, or a something-for-everyone eatery, but spare it those insults. If indeed there is such thing as an American bistro, it captures the essence of whatever the term means, in all of its mashed-up mixed metaphorical glory.  It is the restaurant every Applebee’s, Chili’s or Cheesecake Factory wishes it could be. It is the best food you will ever find among oversized screens displaying over-hyped sports.

(Here’s how things work in the John Curtas universe these days: We go to a restaurant. We order modestly, then, 4Xs more food shows up at the table. We fight for a bill. Sometimes we get a bill, but it is usually for a fraction of what showed up on the table. We then leave a monster tip. Our meal at Raku Toridokoro was a special pre-opening tasting, so no charge, but our sake bill was $130 and left a $100 tip. When the restaurant opens, the set menu will be $80/pp and there will be a la carte options. At Sin Fronteras, we ordered 3 tacos ($8.25) and then had five more dishes hit the table. No bill, but we left $40. At Player’s Locker, the entire menu showed up (or so it seemed), but they only charged us for about $40/couple. To compensate, we bought an $80 bottle of champagne and left a combined $70 tip.)

RAKU TORIDOKORO

4439 West Flamingo Road

Las Vegas, NV 89103

702.337.6233

SIN FRONTERAS TACOS Y MAS

4016 N. Tenaya Way

Las Vegas, NV 89129

706.866.0080

PLAYER’S LOCKER BY WOLFGANG PUCK

10955 Oval Park Drive, Ste D3

Las Vegas, NV 89135

702.202.6300

Image(Because we knew you wanted another chick pic)