Old Skool: Vegas Food Porn

by Sarah on October 15, 2009

Friends, I’m dead tired tonight. My day job is kicking my ass. A food porn post will have to suffice for tonight, because the most I could stand to cook was a bagel, and the thought of stringing more than 5 words together hurts my hair.

10/10–Birthday dinner:
The. Best. Steakhouse. EVER.

Prime signage to go with the prime steaks.

The velvet ropes are out…

As is the red carpet (figuratively, anyway).

I went 1958 all the way. Cocktail before dinner? Of course! Gin martini, please.

It was at this time that a young man wearing a tuxedo stepped up to our table, brandishing an enormous camera. He introduces himself as the “house photographer”. Do you remember ever seeing old photos of the stars, or your grandparents, sitting in some restaurant banquette? Sort of like this:

Suddenly, there we are, in the middle of a photo shoot. Turn this way, lift your chin. A little cheesy, but how could I turn this down?

Swanky leather menus.

We started with the Clams Casino. You don’t see that dish on menus anymore. It’s a shame really–it’s an elegant little appetizer that won’t ruin your appetite.

They were really super. I think I’m going to make these soon. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can get the clams from the clam guy at the farmer’s market.

Of course this place had table service. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. First we ordered the Caesar salad. There’s no salad better than a Caesar made right in front of you. In this crappy picture, he’s mixing the dressing with two soup spoons. Unfortunately, they can’t use the old wooden bowls anymore because of the stupid food cops.

Tossing the salad. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Looks fabulous, right? They did use whole anchovies for the dressing. It was pungent and delicious.

Next up were our entrees. Because of the table service thing, I got the extra large imported Dover sole in lemon butter. He deboned it with two large spoons. From my seat, it looked like he was massacring the poor thing. I have no idea how he did this. Truly, a lost art.

Nope, the fish wasn’t local. There’s no local fish in Las Vegas, it’s the desert. It was unbelievable. Totally freakin’ unbelievable.

Here is a side of beef. No, just kidding. It’s an 18-oz “Diamond Lil” end cut of prime rib. All that meat went into one person.

That person had some eating competition though, because this baby was also eaten by one person. 20-oz bone-in rib eye steak. Like buttah.

The ladies went for the seafood. Here is the Scallops Piccante–scallops sauteed with a tangy lemon butter.

Requisite steakhouse side: Creamed spinach. Cooked with Pernod, it was zippy. We also couldn’t resist the potatoes Lyonnaise.

The aftermath:

For dessert, I ordered Cherries Jubilee, but they said the cherries weren’t so great so I didn’t end up getting it. They brought me something else on fire instead.

New York Cheesecake. Creammmy.

Creme Brulee.

Victory.


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