STRIPPED TO ITS BARE ESSENTIALS
ELV loves many things about Strip House in Planet Hollywood….not the least of which is all the eye-candy on the walls. Taking Morel’s one step further in the soft-core, steakhouse porn department, Strip House features lots of photos of lovely ladies in various stages of undress throughout the restaurant. Morel’s, as you know, prefers eight-foot paintings of gals cavorting in the buff.
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ELV has no idea what these people are doing. Even less what they’re doing on the walls of a steakhouse. But they sure seem to be enjoying themselves! Perhaps they’re just as ecstatic as ELV over the cheese selection here.
What this gal is doing pointing a machine gun at us outside the Men’s Room is also puzzling….
….but it sure makes us think twice before mishandling Mr. Happy.*
There are passion restaurants and there are money restaurants. Rarely do the twain ever meet, and asking them to do so in Las Vegas is like expecting a stripper to take a check.
A cynic would say all casino restaurants are only about numbers and cash, but Steve Wynn has tantalized us before with the prospect of great food, generated by a passionate chef, generating lots of dough in the High Mojave. For what was Alex Stratta’s Renoir in the Mirage but an attempt to blend haute cuisine with lowbrow gambling?
Then came the Bellagio in 1998 — a place that sold its soul to the celebrity chef devil (igniting that stampede in the process) — and which took a fair amount of heat from the national food press for pretending to be passionate about food even as its absentee chefs did little more than wave at their operations from 30,000 feet as they flew from coast to coast.