Being John Curtas

The List – Where We’re Eating and Why

August 13, 2025August 17, 2025

(If people could read my mind…I’d get punched in the face a lot)

It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? Seven months to be precise. Lots of travel (Scotland, Rome, London, Venice, Milan, Vancouver, Nantucket, Connecticut – just to name a few stops) since last we posted something, but we haven’t been idle, even if we don’t eat, report, and repeat like we did in the halcyon years of 2008-2020. These days (when we’re in town), we mainly put our energies into podcasting — gab-festing every week about where we’ve eaten on Eat. Talk. Repeat. (Which, from our completely objective perspective, is the liveliest restaurant podcast around.)

As any writer will tell you: talking is tons more fun than writing, and why everyone from Kato Kaelin to D-list actresses have one. Or maybe it’s because listening is easier than reading(?).

Regardless, we’ve always found podcasts (even ours) to be a poor vehicle for imparting accessible information in condensed form. Such as a list of what we consider the best/most important restaurants of 2025. So here goes, roughly in order of their newness, excellence, level of cooking, and importance to the Vegas food scene.

Unlike past years, we no longer scurry to and fro, trying to eat/try every worthy restaurant in Las Vegas. These days we pick our spots, so consider this more highly personal than comprehensive. Some places we adore (Guy Savoy, Ferraro’s, Main Street Provisions, et al) are still wonderful, we just haven’t been in a while. What you’ll get here is places I’ve been to recently (i.e., the last seven months) and to which I intend to return. All are worth your time and money if you seek the best Vegas has to offer.

And, as usual, if you’re looking for washed up celebrity chef retreads, forced fun (Hello, supper clubs!), or some place you “heard was good” from some bizarre “influencer ” who speaks like an annoying four-year old, you’ve come to the wrong place.

(As always, all places come highly recommended unless otherwise noted.)

THE LIST – 2025

1. TAMBA – Calvin Trillin once wrote that the average Italian restaurant gets more customers in a night than most Indian joints see in a month. Four decades on, not much has improved. Indian food – one of the world’s great cuisines – was, for years, so underrepresented in America as to be almost invisible. Urban areas had their tandoori parlors and AYCE buffets, but that was about it. But the tide may be turning. Indian food, the refined, intricate, delicate cuisine of the sub-continent, might be having a moment, here and elsewhere, and Tamba is showing why.

Tamba has as much in common with your standard, cookie cutter curry shop as a Bentley does with a Dodge Dart. This is apparent from the second you step inside. Instead of nonstop Bollywood videos, what confronts you is an elegant, subdued restaurant replete with overstuffed chairs, refined flatware and an eye-popping bar that would be right at home in the Bellagio.

From there Chef Anand Singh flies you around the sub-continent (and even into China), dabbling in everything from upscale tuna sushi with smoked sea salt to artichoke sashimi to marinated goat biryani. Spicings are precise, presentations polished, and the multi-layered flavorings a revelation. (A one-curry-fits-all stop this is not.) You can go conventional (intriguing Samosa Chaat, soothing butter chicken) or unique (grilled Afghani saffron paneer, banana leaf-wrapped sea bass, Josper-grilled octopus with purple cauliflower), and be assured that whatever hits your table will probably be like nothing Vegas has ever tasted.

Modern Indian like this has been the rage in England for twenty years. Vegas may be late to the party, but with Tamba and the arrival of Gymkanha to the Aria later this year, the festivities promise to continue for even longer than an Indian wedding.

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2. BAR BOHEME – There were two important restaurant openings this year, and BB was the other one. Fine French and local Las Vegas have generally been as compatible as slot machines and opera, and breaths are being held as to whether James Trees’ ode to haute bourgeois cooking signals a pivot to more serious gastronomy, or whether we are forever consigned to the steakhouse/Italian circle of hell. The Strip is no longer driving the culinary conversation; places like Bar Boheme (and its sister restaurant Ada’s) have taken the reigns….and where they take us is anyone’s guess.

(Cheesus Christ that’s good soup!)

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3. STUBBORN SEED – is the kind of place where the chef (Jeremy Ford) makes a splash out of town (in this case, Miami), wins a TV cooking competition (Top Chef season 13), gets recruited by Vegas bigwigs to bring his concept to a giant hotel (Resorts World) in hopes of enhancing the cred (and pocketbooks) of the chef, the concept and the hotel. The food (like the room) is stylish and comfortable without being overthought or overwrought. This is high-wire, aggressive, veggie-focused cooking (but not strictly vegetarian), and Ford clearly has the chops for it.

He freely mixes his food metaphors and clearly has a thing for intricacy, playing with odd combinations (and lots of leafy accents) that always seem to work.Thus will you find carrots charred with jerk seasonings and spiced yogurt (above) , and a whole cauliflower (also above) roasted with a cashew puree, then garnished with every herb in the garden.

His proteins don’t miss any beats either: a foie gras/truffle tart (above) reminiscent of a pb&j, brown butter branzino, and a slow-cooked smoked beef rib (priced-to-sell at $85) are better than anything you’ll find in most steakhouses. None of this is cheap, but compared to most Strip restaurants these days, it feels like a bargain for cooking this complex and compelling. Definitely the most interesting Strip restaurant to open this year, and we are rooting for it to find an audience.

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(Bream job – $95)

4. PISCES – Perhaps I’m getting soft in my old age, but I found more to praise than bury in our two meals here. The setting will pop your eyeballs, the service about as efficient as a 300 seater can have, and the Greek-French-Spanish-Italian-something-for-everyone-mash-up menu is a fun read. What also pops are the prices — $120 Dover sole, $34 crudo, and a grab-your-ankles wine list that should be presented with a tube of K-Y.

You are in the Wynncore, after all, where bargains are rarer than inconspicuous consumption, and the upscale crowd practically demands to be overcharged. Unsurprisingly, most of the Greek offerings (Horatiki salad, Gigante beans, the sea bream, aka Orata) is done better at Milos, and the paella ($155) is far more authentic (and cheaper) at Jaleo. But the fish is as fresh as it gets, this far from an ocean, and the desserts are in a class by themselves.

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5. CARAMÁ – Nowadays, no one likes to bag on the Strip more than yours truly, but the second best Italian food we had this year was at this Wolfgang Puck outpost in Mandalay Bay. It’s an all-purpose Italian, befitting the requirements of Big Hotel, but Puck’s troops have always been great technicians, and their proficiency with the whole spectrum of Italian gastronomy — from the top shelf salumi to squab (pictured above) to dolce to die for –is evident from the first bite. Are we going to drive to the ends of the Strip to eat here? Probably not. But the food is way better than it has to be for this hotel’s slack-jawed, lanyard crowd.

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6. JOËL ROBUCHCON – Without Joel Robuchon there would have been no Guy Savoy, Mario Batali, or Bradley Ogden. Without JR there would be no James Beard recognition, no José Andrés, Bobby Flay, and no Steve Wynn trying (for a time) to turn the Wynncore into a gourmet mecca. Wynn and Gamal Aziz may have started Las Vegas’s restaurant revolution in 1994-1999, but it was Robuchon, coming out of retirement to launch his international concepts (L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon and his namesake 3-etoile jewel box) IN LAS VEGAS(!), that made all the headlines, and brought the world’s food media to our door.

No one, except influencers looking for a free meal, gets excited about Strip restaurant openings anymore. But Robuchon coming here was a very big deal, and now, twenty years on, its cooking, decor, and service still have the capacity to astonish. This is rarefied air dining, and the tariffs are steep, but a la carte selections ease the pain (and the calories), and for better haute cuisine (and mignardises like these), you’ll have to travel to Paris:

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7. ADA’S FOOD+WINE – Wine Goddess Kat Thomas and chef Jackson Stamper are doing something very special at AFW. If it were in any other city, the accolades and awards would flow like Franciacorta. In Vegas, it’s just another gem struggling to find and audience among people with more money than taste. Its escape from the Tivoli Village ghost town (and to Arts District digs) can’t come soon enough.

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8. VETRI CUCINA – We love Vetri. even if it’s harder to get to than Henderson at rush hour. But it’s still the best Italian in town, and for that reason alone, it rates a wave.

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9. WINEAUX – has everything you’d ever want in a wine bar: comfy setting, good feng shui, lots of interesting bottles at all price points, thoughtful, handcrafted small plates to nibble on, attentive service. The only thing it needs is to be closer to my house.

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10. LE CLUB BY PARTAGE – IS closer to my house. And a jewel box filled with fine champagnes, and delicate French food to compliment them. The steak tartare (above) is straight from Paris, and the grilled oysters and mini-cheeseburger (topped with a nugget of foie gras) are worth a trip all by themselves.

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11. ANIMA BY EDO – We don’t go the ABE much because it’s both too far and far too annoying to travel to, no matter how good the Spanish-Italian mashup food (and wine) is. But no list of the best restaurants in Vegas is complete without it.

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(Ash Watkins and Gio, not exactly weeping in their wine)

12. MONZÙ – Gio Mauro (operatic by nature, in talent and temperament) literally performs a passion play nightly, straight out of “Big Night”. His clientele are the cognoscenti, who recognize his genius with pizzas, pastas, proteins, and wine. One block away is Nora’s, his family’s other restaurant, strictly for the red sauce, chicken parm, and pepperoni crowd. Guess which one has more customers than the bacon cheeseburger egg roll concession at the Iowa State Fair? It’s enough to make me weep into my Barolo.

13. SPICY ZEST – wins our award for surprise of the year. Tucked into the side panel of a giant strip mall on south Rainbow/Warm Springs, nothing (from the location to the tells-you-nothing odd ball name) prepares you for what’s inside — which is some of the best Szechuan food in town. Sleek, spotless, and friendly, with food that will blow your head off (in a good way). Everything from the hot and sour soup to the Szechuan boiled fish (above) comes to the table looking like someone in the kitchen really cares, and is not just going through the motions. A real find.

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14. THE PEPPER CLUB – Italian with a kick, rapidly morphing into a downtown power lunch spot. The spicy spaghetti (pictured above) is the truth, as are the stracciatella cheese app, and pork meatballs. If you insist, the (sooo cheugy) chicken parm get raves from the cringe crowd (see what we did there?), but we prefer the double-cut pork chop, and the carpaccio. Service can be well–meaning but spotty, but even at its slowest, it’s a great alternative when you can’t get into Esther’s, for either lunch or dinner. FYI: Despite what the sign says, Todd English hasn’t had anything to do with the place for years.

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15. RAKU – There’s a reason The Food Gal® (pictured above) and I go to Raku every year for her birthday. And the reason is it’s the best Japanese food in town.

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16. HIROYOSHI – doesn’t have the sushi chops of Kabuto, nor the izakaya game of Raku, but for a legitimate slice of Japan in the ‘burbs, it’s tough to beat. The $100 sashimi platter (below) is what everyone gets, for good reason. The house made appetizers, especially the steamed mushrooms, and tempura are not to be missed.

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(The Great Vincenzo, and some Luddite in a ball cap)

17. CIPRIANI – Almost every Friday (when we’re in town) we’re here for lunch. And the reason is deliciously simple Italian food, the way it’s supposed to be.

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18. PUBLICUS – The Food Gal® is nuts about their coffee and their toasts (avocado and otherwise), so every Sunday morn, that’s where you’ll find us. Yearly winner of The Best Restaurant In The Worst Location In Town award.

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19. ESTHER’S KITCHEN – “No one goes there anymore. It’s too crowded.” – Yogi Berra

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20. SOULBELLY BBQ – the best ‘cue in Vegas. Don’t even think about arguing with me about this.

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21. WILD FIG BBQ – the second best ‘cue in Vegas. But skip the sausage, it’s terrible. If you want to argue about the rest of the meats v. SoulBelly, we’ll at least allow the discussion.

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(#yolkporn)

22. WINNIE & ETHEL’S – the ultimate breakfast and lunch diner is now open for dinner!

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(Chef Ivan has got the meats!)

23. DELMONICO – 26 years old and better than ever. The steaks (and Louisiana specialties) are superb. Service never misses a beat. And the cheeseburger in a league of its own. And by “league of its own” we mean it won out our 2025 Best Steakhouse Burger at Eat. Talk. Repeat. over some very rare and well-done competition. There might be a better double-smashed cheeseburger somewhere in Vegas, but from the beefiness to the bun, we haven’t tasted it. And we’ve tasted them all.

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24. CARVERSTEAK – In a crowded category, Carversteak gets our nod for the best all-around steakhouse. From its serious booze and wine programs, to the inventive apps (crab with caviar, above, would be right at home on an upscale tasting menu) and major league proteins, no beef emporium does as many things as well as this big hitter, tucked into a corner of Resorts World.

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25. PETER LUGER – Argue all you want about the dated menu (which we find charming), but no one ages their steaks better. Fight me.

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26. HARLO – The next time some knucklehead starts telling you how great Barry’s, The Steakhouse or Golden Steer is, do what I do: tell ’em to “Go eat at Harlo and then we’ll talk.”

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27. MAE DALY’S – the anti-Golden Steer, with no Instagram-addicted crowds congratulating themselves because, “they heard it was good.” There, I said it. Also, parking is easy (and free!), but tip the valet just like the old days. Get the grilled oysters and a burger as appetizers (like we always do), and thank me later.

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(#Cholesterolfest)

28. RINCON DE BUENOS AIRES – In many ways, the anti-Vegas-steakhouse — informal, fun, friendly, and reasonable. Also very accommodating to the BYO crowd, even if their priced-to-sell Malbecs match perfectly with the meat. Ideal for a crowd of carnivores, looking for exotic ways to make their hearts beat faster. You’d better like soccer though, and pity the fool who mistakes the poster of Diego Maradona for Pelé.

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29. YEN VIET KITCHEN – Not your typical pho parlor. Not even your typical Vietnamese. Tiny with zero social media presence, but a loyal following of Southeast Asian regs who know the good stuff…like Chinese sausage and pork on sticky rice (above).

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30. LAMAII – never disappoints and always has the most intriguing wines to match with its incendiary food. No one leaves without getting the crab fat fried rice (above). Our favorite Thai on Spring Mountain Road.

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31. MOIA – guaranteed to quench your Peruvian food jones even if it has the second worst location in town (after PublicUs). Get the ceviche or tiraditos or Papa a la Huancaina (potatoes in yellow pepper cheese sause) and thank us later. Dive into the seafood only at your own risk, or only if you’re familiar with Peruvian food. As with every Peruvian restaurant we’ve ever tried, lots of things sound much better than they taste.

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32. LETTY’S TACOS – if you find a better quesobirria taco in town, let me know.

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33. CAFE BREIZH – Kouign Amann (above). ‘Nuff said. Also, the best cappucino in town. And pastries. And baguettes.

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34. THE DAILY BREAD – a thumbnail breakfast/lunch joint with serious (in-house) baked goods (e.g. Las Vegas’s best foccacia, above). We don’t know how Scott Commings makes a living out of this crackerbox of a bakery/deli, but we’re glad he does.

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35. NOM PANG – Cambodian sandwiches (which taste a lot like Vietnamese sandwiches, stuffed as they are with greenery and bevy of unidentifiable lunch meats) have found a home on N. Rancho Dr. — in the least likely Southeast Asia sammie spot imaginable. The made-to-order soups and stews are a treat, too, even if occasionally you won’t know what you’re eating.

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36. XIANG WEI XUAN – There are two ways to approach Chinatown/Spring Mountain Road: spend thirty years traveling and trying everything up and down its 3 mile stretch (and get so good you can spot a corporate/franchise at 100 yards), OR have friends like Dave the Great who speaks Mandarin and can spot the real deal in Hunanese cooking from a mile out. We discovered XWX the first way, but have learned to love it even more when our friend translates the menu for us. As Gen Z would say: This place is frfr (“for real for real”), no cap.

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SPECIAL BOOZE-CENTRIC ADDENDUM:

37. DOWNTOWN MIXOLOGY CRAWL

– Jammyland

– Esther’s Kitchen

– Main Street Provisions

– Echo Taste & Sound (pictured above)

– Bar Ginza

– Petit Boheme (top of the page)

– Liquid Diet

– Nocturno

– The Creamery

– The Doberman

– Stray Pirate

….plus a few we probably missed. The cocktail bars in DTLV have gotten so good, I almost wish I was an alcoholic.

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So, that’s the best of the best of where we’ve been dining (and drinking) this year, and why we love them so. For the other side of the coin, keep reading.

The Bottom 7

Battista’s – Wine without alcohol, coffee-free cappuccino, veal Marsala in search of Marsala….Battista’s (“temporarily closed”) continues to be a big hit with a certain type of basic mouth breather who loves it that way.

Casa Playa – 4 skimpy apps + 1 decent drink = $140. For mid Mexican. The prosecution rests.

Emmit’s – By-the-numbers food in an awkward setting aimed at sheeple drawn to past-their-prime celebrity brands like fentanyl to Fremont Street. Sorry/not sorry, Mr. Washed-Up Athlete, the world is not dying for another mid-brand steakhouse, no matter how many fans you had in 1993.

Cafe Landwer – IHOP with a bad Israeli accent. And not cheap. You have been warned.

Lotus of Siam (Red Rock) – You sell your soul when you sell your brand to Big Hotel, a lesson the Chutima family has learned the hard way. If only there had been a food writer/lawyer with decades of experience in the restaurant/law/contract business to advise them not to do it…

Irv’s Burgers – People line up for what is, at best, the 43rd best cheeseburger in Vegas.

Jessie Rae’s BBQ – One of my fave sayings (forever) has been, “Barbecue is like sex: the worst I ever had was still pretty good.” At least it was until I dumped an entire platter of this slop in the garbage.

Soooo….that’s really it.

Have you not been influenced?

Dining Old School in the New London

January 17, 2025January 23, 2025

(Werewolves of London)

The food in London is getting better, the British are always declaring. “Yeah,” a cynical friend texted us as we boarded our non-stop to Heathrow, “but people have been saying that for thirty years.”

Both statements are true. Londoners haven’t been hidebound by pub grub, bad mutton and boiled beef since the Seventies, but no one will ever mistake its culinary scene for Paris, Tokyo or New York’s. But progress can be tasted all over town, as two generations of ambitious chefs have succeeded in creating a gastronomic identity for the country — one based on the bounty of local produce and the melting pot of cultures visible on every corner. The city is now a world capital as much as a British one, with gustatory delights available from every far flung corner of the globe.

But this trip wasn’t about hidden gems, updated Indian (Gymkhana, BiBi, Ambassadors Clubhouse), Uyghur eats, or Senegalese soups. We were here to sight-see, shop, and nosh in the toniest part of town (Mayfair) and show a London newbie (my big sis) how the British upper crust breaks their bread. For this I got some good-natured ribbing from London scribe/pen-pal Marina O’Loughlin who thinks about Mayfair the way I do the Las Vegas Strip (lots of money, little imagination) and is right to implore me to explore the cutting-edge culinary corners of the “new” London. Maybe next time.

(You see ’em prowlin’ ’round the kitchen door, better not let’em in)

We did take her advice for our first meal of the trip, however, heading straight from Heathrow to Shepard Market, for a cozy, jet-lagged dinner at Noble Rot. Fighting through the London fog of our sleep-deprived brains, we were warmed by an extraordinary bread basket, Parmesan snow-capped gougères, rib-sticking boudin noir with pickled quince, and a wedge of Cornish brill (Dover sole’s heftier cousin) napped in a soothing cream sauce speckled with smoked caviar. Desserts are suitably British (straight-from-the-oven apple cake), Italian-inspired (buttermilk panna cotta), and French perfected (chocolate choux bun/cream puff stuffed with brandied prune and hazelnut sauce). The place is basically an English spin on Parisian bistronomy — combining a laid-back vibe with serious cooking, aimed at a knowledgeable clientele eager to see what the chef is up to, and the service was as warm as that apple cake.

In keeping with the name, the wine list was an oenophile’s wet dream — compelling by-the-glass selections; page after page of producers both famous and obscure; and prices for every budget — all of it a far cry from the wine gouging we put up with in America.

After our gastropub English-French fusion, we were eager to go old school, something which hearkened back to the days of the British Raj. While my family concentrated on taking Harrod’s. Selfridge’s, and Fortnum by storm, I dreamt of garlic naan, butter chicken, and Malabar fish curry. London is justifiably famous for its Indian food (at all price points) and we wanted a taste of the granddaddy of them all: Veeraswamy — a bastion of sub-continent cooking since 1926. Located on s second floor overlooking tony Regent Street, it is colorful, elegant, and formal — the sort of Indian restaurant that does not exist on this side of the pond.

The refinement this cuisine achieves in England is also surprising to those of us raised on indifferent tandoori, perfunctory service, and steam-tabled stews so crusted over they should be labeled with an expiration date. Here, the food is as brilliant and vivid as the colors of the room, and it envelopes your palate with sensations both delicate and intense –everything being very, but not excessively, rich. No mean feat that.

(Indian Eggcellence)

You begin with papadum crisps so light they practically float off the table. With them are three chutneys of varying frutiness and heat, each a bracing palate-awakener. From there it’s all uncharted territory: tucking into exotica like Baghare Baingan (stewed eggplant curry), Grandma’s Spicy Egg Roast (served on a disc rice flour noodles, above), and beetroot croquettes with Stilton and green chili (below) — each dish as far a cry from the leaden, underspiced spicy food you might associate with this cuisine.

(No steam tables in sight)

This striking dissimilarity continued through the main courses. Butter chicken (murgh makhani) of astonishing amplitude, halibut in a Malabar coconut curry that respected the fish, and paneer tikka (roasted cubes of fresh cheese) which made you miss meat not at all.

Libations are as upscale as the surroundings Wines are well-matched to the food (this food creates thirst), and we zeroed in on a complex, off-dry German Riesling at 82 pounds/$90). Cocktails are surprisingly au courant for such a classic place.

The trouble with dining at Veeraswamy is it spoils you for a level of extravagance, ingenuity, and sumptuousness that is almost impossible to find in Indian restaurants over here. She may be pushing 100, but from where we were sitting (at the best table in the house overlooking Regent Street) there is plenty of life in the old girl yet.

(He’s looking through you, to the year 1498)

If there is one chef who embodies Britain’s gastronomic revolution, it would have to be the molecularly-obsessed Heston Blumenthal, whose Fat Duck in Bray has been the most famous restaurant in the country for most of this century. Not having the time or inclination to trek out of town for “bacon and egg ice cream”, instead we parked ourselves at a large round table at Dinner by Heston Blumenthal in the beyond-posh Mandarin Oriental Hotel to sample his avant-garde spin on traditional British dishes.

(Toto, we’re not in the Bellagio anymore)

One of the appeals of the place (besides his reputation, the gorgeous setting, inventive cooking, and spotless service) is the flexibility of ordering either a tasting menu or a la carte, depending on your level of interest or peckishness. Another pleasant surprise was letting you choose the degree of intensive care service you desire: three cards are offered for you to peruse and place one in the center of your table — one asking for full explanations of the Blumenthal oeuvre with every dish, a middle option allows for identifying the dish and little else as it hits the table, and a third requesting nothing but “here’s the plate and fare thee well” with every course. We put on our fanboy hat and asked for the Full Monty, and the staff indulged us with descriptions both pithy and informative, never taking more than a minute to describe the story behind every recipe.

(Pick your level of intrusion)

The cards are necessary because the entire historical catechism of British cookery is what informs this menu. Rather than modernizing old recipes, though, it’s more like Blumenthal uses them for inspiration to riff on the ingredients. Thus do you get Heston’s famous “meatfruit” (circa 1500) — a foie gras/liver parfait (encased in what looks like half a mandarin orange):

Not to be stickler for details, but one doubts that the kitchens of Henry VII were having their agar-agar way with tangerine jelly.

The same could be said for “The Truffle” (a ping-pong ball of melanosporum butter disguised as a tuber) which also claims an ancient birthright (c. 1500) on the menu . Regardless of genealogy, the results of both are so rich they should come with a tax return.

(Zero squabbles with this)

Main courses were lighter: a caramelized, roasted cauliflower with shiitake dressing, sea bass with a green sauce spiked with eucalyptus, and spiced squab, no doubt much less putrid than the “hung” fowl of the 19th Century, but seasoned and sauced in a way Anthony Trollope might recognize.

We ended with a “Tipsy Cake” (a sugar-crusted sweet brioche, c. 1858), but I’m guessing the French claim it for a lot longer), and a platter of English cheeses at their peak, and left with the opinion that this kitchen, fourteen years on, hasn’t lost its fastball. You certainly don’t go to a Heston Blumenthal restaurant looking for bargains, but $1,000/4 US (about a third of that wine) for a dinner this inventive, precise, and polished, was a deal by American standards. The next time we’re in London, we can’t wait to see what edible historical artifact he is re-configuring next.

If HB asks us to indulge his culinary flights of fancy, Saint Jacques, in the heart of St. James, just steps from Berry Bros. & Rudd, requests nothing of its clientele other than a taste for well-rendered standards of la cuisine Française. Our meal tread no new ground, but a Beaufort cheese soufflé, veal kidneys in mustard sauce, an onglet frites of uncommon mineral-rich depth, and textbook creme brûlée were just what we needed to fortify ourselves for an afternoon of sightseeing in freezing weather. In keeping with the theme of the trip, the greeting and service couldn’t have been more cordial, even though we popped in without a reservation.

A similar fate awaited us a few nights later at Scott’s. We arrived just as they opened, asked nicely, and were seated promptly. (Travel tip: if you don’t have a reservation go early, real early, as in, right-when-they-swing-the-door-open early. You’ll be surprised how often it works, except in hot new restaurants or rarefied-air gastronomic temples.) Scott’s is iconic for it’s seafood (since 1851), and we dove right into a dozen of the freshest oysters imaginable (served oddly with thumb-sized, chorizo-like sausage links), a shellfish bisque that tasted like an entire crustacean compressed into a bowl, and flawless fillets of seared sea bass and pan-fried Dover sole. Welsh rarebit (aka Welsh rabbit) — basically cheese toast with a higher education (below) — and piping hot madeleines completed things, and by the time we left, the restaurant was as full as we were.

(This rabbit made us very hoppy)

Despite the naysayers, there is much to recommend in gastronomic London. The seafood is nonpareil, chefs take great pride in their local ingredients, and the cooking palette has expanded to include ideas and techniques from all over Europe. New school or old, the typical British reserve seems to have melted over the years, and the place is now so friendly, sometimes you’ll think you’re in Italy.

Take us home, Warren:

Major Awards 2024

December 6, 2024December 24, 2024

It’s award season, and true to yearly form, our wits are sharpened, appetite is keen, and patience at an end. So buckle up, pilgrim…

Best Restaurant That’s Closest to My House: Le Thai 2

Best Restaurant That No One Goes To: Jamon Jamon Woodfired

Best Restaurant That’s So Crowded No One Goes There Anymore: Esther’s Kitchen

Restaurant That Deserves to be More Famous Than It Is: Ada’s Food + Wine– Don’t call it a wine bar any more. Jackson Stamper, Kat Thomas and James Trees have turned this corner of Tivoli Village into our town’s most adventuresome gastropub. Surf and turf in-your-face concoctions like nowhere else. Witness the coconut broth mussels above. Paired with a fascinating wine list at prices that won’t have you reaching for a respirator.

Fucktard of the Year Award: Fountainebleu – because after we pointed out what a rip-off the wine lists were throughout the hotel (and got a bit of traction for it on social media), the p.r. folks (and executives) went into full hose job mode, assuring me the hotel really “cared about locals” and wanted its restaurants (and wine lists) to be accessible to a wide range of customers, not just high rollers and rich douchebags. Waited a month and went back. Nothing had changed. Waited another month. Nada. Poked around a few weeks ago….if anything prices have gotten worse. (Good luck finding a bottle for less than $100, anywhere in the hotel.) Then they took the excellent burger off the menu at Don’s Prime because, as one insider told me: “It was getting too popular and people were buying it instead of $100 steaks.” In other words, everything about the place now screams “We’re only here to rip-off people with more money than sense,” and encapsulates everything we hate about late-stage Las Vegas.

F**k the Fountainebleu with a rusty corkscrew.

Speaking of hotels….

Hotel(s) Whose F & B programs We Don’t Give a Shit About Anymore: Basically all of them except Wynn/Encore and Venetian/Palazzo. The opposite of love isn’t hate; the opposite of love is indifference.

Only Steakhouse That Gets Us to the Strip Without Too Much Kvetching: Peter Luger

Told You So Award: Lotus of Siam’s ill-fated partnership with Red Rock Hotel-Casino (see further discussion below).

Runner-Up: The Sundry Food Hall at Uncommons – because everything about this place (from the ghost kitchens to the QR codes) was stupid from the jump.

Best Smashburger: Stay Tuned Burger – Hard Hat Lounge ($12):

Burger of the Year: the pop-up, $15 semi-smash burger at Featherblade Craft Butchery:

Enough Already Award: Smashburgers

Croissant of the Year: 1228 Main – Hear all about these mille-feuille marvels on Eat. Talk. Repeat. here.

(Let’s taco about how good these are..)

Tacos of the Year: Carnitas y Tortas Asahogadas (above)

Pleasant Surprise Award: Brasserie B by Bobby Flay, 6666 Ranch Steakhouse, Spring by Chinamama, Caramá – our degree of skepticism was only matched by how impressed we were by the food at each of these. If this keeps up, we may start getting excited by the food in Strip hotels again.

Pancake(s) of the Year: Chamana’s Cafe’s blueberry and Winnie & Ethel’s banana-pecan beauties (above and above)

Hot Dog of the Year: Windy City Beefs ‘n Dogs loaded Chicago Dog (above)

(The 70s called, they want their color scheme back)

(Ash Watkins, calling all Ottomans!)

Turkish Pimp Bordello Award: Palate (above)

Dat Sum Dim Sum Award: Palette Tea Lounge (Yes, we know, it gets confusing.)

(Muchas gracias, Julian!)

Game Changer/Riding Into the Sunset Award: Julian Serrano – who retires after a quarter century of excellence, knowing his enthusiasm, dedication and haute cuisine chops changed the face of Las Vegas. Read more about Serrano’s legacy in this month’s Desert Companion Restaurant Awards (some of which were written by someone you might recognize).

Never Again Award: Marché Bacchus (above) – because what was once a passion restaurant has become a money restaurant. The above pic was from a recent visit, at peak brunch hour (1:00 pm) on a Saturday. As my dad used to say: “All the people who aren’t eating there are trying to tell you something.”

Runner-Up: Lotus of Siam Red Rock Hotel and Casino – which is as close to the edgy, in-your-face flavors and authenticity of the real LOS as Bangkok is to the Bellagio.

Underappreciated Award: The Legends Oyster Bar & Grill – for the freshest seafood (and fabolous ‘ersters, above) you’ll find, 250 miles from the nearest ocean. Also, now with a second location in Henderson!

Brunch It and They Will Come Award: Mi Barrio – which answered the question: Just how bad can Mexican food get and still pull a crowd? Exhibit One (above): what they called a “Milanese” torta, and what we called shoe leather burnt to an inedible crisp. The prosecution has five more exhibits but will rest with this one. We didn’t think anything could make Casa Don Juan look good, but this place manages to.

F**k Mi Barrio and it’s slack-jawed, endless margarita crowd with a stale tortilla.

As long as we’re trashing mediocre Mexicans…

Mexican Disappointment of the Year: Los Molcajetes – what was once a favorite is now straight outta Sysco – proving that Mexican food can be just as terrible in the barrio as it is in the ‘burbs.

Phoning It In Award: Eater Vegas – for continuing to live down to expectations with nonsense like this:

…which begs all sorts of questions: Why are two of the five “best restaurant” awards going to bars (with a third being more about “hanging” than eating)? Also, were there no contenders for “Grooviest Playlist” or “Best Chef Tattoos”? Shame. And finally: How far up their collective rectum did the Eater writer(s) have to reach for these?

Wine Bar of the Year: Wineaux – slick, comfy build-out, good vibes (are you listening Eater?), beautiful food. One of the few joints that can induce us to travel 15 miles for a bite.

Italian(s) of the Year (toss-up): Brezza, Caramá, Vetri, Cipriani, Ferraro’s, Matteo’s – Las Vegas is lousy with Italian, but these are six of the best.

Unsung Italian Award: Aromi– make that seven.

(When you get a hankerin’ for Hunanese)

Chinese Meal of the Year: Xiang Wei Xuan (above)

Vietnamese Meal of the Year: YEN Viet Kitchen

Podcast of the Year: Eat. Talk. Repeat.– Are we biased? Does the Pope wear a beanie? Does the Navy have ships? Does a wild bear sh____you get the point. YOU BET we’re biased! But no one has more fun covering the Vegas restaurant scene that we do. (CAN YOU PROVE IT ISN’T TRUE?)

Runner-Up: City Cast Las Vegas – the newsy, trendy, gossipy, informative-yet-fun podcast you need to be listening to, daily.

Snoop Dogg Overexposure Award, Sponsored by Martha Stewart, produced and presented by Snoop Dogg, after a very special exclusive interview with Martha Stewart and Snoop Dogg: Caviar

Foie Gras of the Year: Mae Daly’s– a more luscious piece(s) of duck liver (prepared two ways) you will not find anywhere in Vegas.

IHOP With Better Architecture Award: Norm’s

Chinese Hegemony Award: China Mama – Coming out of Covid, CM’s original location rebounded with a vengeance. Then it (literally) caught on fire. So they moved the operation to Shanghai Plaza, and opened a satellite take-out address on Rainbow. When they re-open the original location early next year, and a Palace Station outlet, this once-humble Shanghai noodle parlor will have seven locations across the Vegas Valley. Expansion this fast doesn’t happen unless major investor $$$s are involved. So far, quality-control at all the branches remains high. Hao Chī (right down the street from my ‘hood) and Spring by China Mama, have hit all their marks from the get-go. But experience tells us they’re going to have to simplify their approach when they open in the Palace Station, which has, for twenty years, been a graveyard where good eats go to die.

Restaurant Awards Award:Desert Companion (magazine)

Desert Companion 2024 Restaurant Awards

(Mitsuo Endo at work)

Japanese Meals of the Year (tie): ENDO, Raku, Izakaya Go, Kaiseki Yuzu, Sushi Hiro

ENDO has the most exquisite Japanese food in Las Vegas, with two seatings nightly (for only six lucky souls) — but it’ll cost you, bigly. Figure a grand a couple once some sake is folded in. As with ‘e’ by José Andrés, definitely an experience every budding gastronome owes themselves. Kaiseki Yuzu is slightly easier on the wallet, and a bit less precious. The other three are restaurants we could go to once a week and never tire of the food, or the (relatively) gentle tariffs.

Drop Dead View of the Year: Vetri Cucina (above) and (below):

Worst Meal of the Year: fingernail pizza at The Bootlegger (see it and weep):

Regrettable Trend of the Year: the corporatization of local brands (cf. Bacchus, Marche, Siam, Lotus of), by restaurant groups who swoop in, with ice water in their veins and profits on the brain, to ruin what was once a good thing, all the while cynically calculating that the hoi polloi won’t notice. We noticed.

Trend That Needs to Die a Sudden, Violent Death: Black food…especially black hamburger buns.

Don’t Fill Up On Bread Award: the glazed, salty-doughy-sweet, drool-worthy Parker House rolls (above) at Scotch 80 Prime – which you’ll be tempted to make a meal in themselves.

(At half off, you can’t beat this meat)

Deal of the Year: the end-of-summer happy hour menu(s) at Scotch 80 Prime – which more than a few restaurants could learn a lesson from during the cash-strapped dog days of summer.

Cut Above Award (Steaks of the Year): Mae Daly’s, Nicco’s, Peter Luger

(Meat me at Mae Daly’s)

Something on The Strip To Look Forward To Award: Fabio Trabocchi bringing his exquisite Mediterranean seafood to the Wynn at Fiola Mare set to open early next year.

(Seafood risotto at La Rosetta, Roma)

Meal(s) of the Year:

Restaurant Guy Savoy (Las Vegas)

La Tour D’Argent (Paris, France not Texas)

L’Ambroisie (Paris, France not Kentucky)

Gaya by Pierre Gagnaire (Paris, France not Illinois)

La Rosetta (Rome, Italy, not Georgia)

The Seafood Ristorante (St. Andrews, Scotland)

ENDO (Las Vegas, Nevada, not New Mexico)

Dish of the Year: Paella, hand-crafted by José Andrés at Jaleo– Bomba rice, spread a single kernel thick, in a paella pan the size of a manhole cover, over which he melted gossamer-thin Jamon Iberico De Bellota de pata negra, topped with premium Spanish oscetra caviar. All of it washed down with ‘o5 Dom Perignon. Proving that some of the greatest food experiences you will ever have are the unplanned ones, and Las Vegas (even without a world-famous chef at the stoves) can cook with the best of them.

Some days a guy just has to pinch himself.

Cheers and Happy Holidays from us and our staff at Being John Curtas/Eating Las Vegas.

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