ECHO, RIG and a Second Opinion

Having spent the last few weeks getting blasted with semi-encouraging Facebook food photos from half of my friends list, I was encouraged enough to take an evening out to Tivoli Village’s newest “place that probably uses a chalkboard for a permanent feature somewhere”, aka Big-money-backed trendy restaurant.  I was mildly entertained by the idea of a butcher shop/bar downstairs, and I was even going to go to the media event pre-opening.  I missed out on the free E&R branded Victorinox chefs knife with the tote bag, but plans changed when I had to go watch doctors pull a medical oddity the size of a lemon out of my brother’s brain (he’s fine now, and I already had that exact knife anyways).  Well, I made it out and my first impression was…


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ECHO & RIG Has ELV Beating His Meat

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Let’s get one thing straight right from the get go: The name Echo & Rig means nothing. There is no Mr. Echo (or his Bunnymen); there is no Mrs. Rig.

The name is made up, contrived by management and conceived by contest — a competition, we were told, among employees to come up with a unique-sounding name. The name is catchy alright, but it also tells you nothing about the establishment. Thus, is the concept, like its cognomen , more than a bit confusing.

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HONEY SALT v. POPPY DEN – a Morton’s Fork?

There is no money in poetry, but there’s no poetry in money, either. – Robert Graves

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People keep asking me the same question.

They say “John?”

I say, “What?”

They say, “John, I’m going out tonight in Summerlin; should I go to Poppy Den or Honey Salt?”

To which I say: “Both are worthy of your hard earned dinero. But it’s a Morton’s fork, if you will, as both  impress and depress the hell out of me.”

Perhaps I should explain.

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