We went to give papers at Jon's always enjoyable session on The Classics and Popular Culture at the Far West Popular Culture Association meeting in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada. (Read a newspaper story here). Arrived the day before, which was our 16th anniversary.
After checking into our hotel, the soon to be imploded Imperial Palace, we went across the road to Caesars Palace (no apostrophe) for lunch at Spago, for which we'll make an exception and include What Holt and Barbara Had for Lunch. Still very nice, for all that it is effectively a chain and Wolfgang Puck probably hasn't set foot in it in years. The menu:
Champagne and the three "starters."
• Calamari with Szechuan peppercorn, lime, and cucumber salad.
The calamari were strips off one of those huge steaks, which come from the Giant-Squid-vs.-Captain-Nemo-sized calamari. Amazingly tender, with a texture not unlike firm tofu. The salad of hot-house cukes was very refreshing.
• Eld Inlet oysters, with basic cocktail sauce (i.e. ketchup and horseradish) and a nice pink peppercorn mignonette. No need for either, since the oysters were nice and briny. Very good service, too. When I pointed out to a passing waitress that in fact there were only eleven oysters and that an ugly fight might ensue, she quickly brought us the escapee, while our waiter brought us two more: a baker's dozen plus. Speaking of bakers, the breads were very good, especially a rosemary loaf.
• Steamed mussels in a broth with chunks of stewed tomatoes, saffron, paprika, and little cubes of potato.
During the afternoon, Barbara toured the iconographical program of Caesars—the topic of her paper—then over to the new conservatory at Bellagio, dressed up for Chinese New Year (the conservatory, that is). Wasted some time in the Parisian trying to find a place for a drink with a view of the Bellagio's fountains, since the Fontane bar foolishly doesn't open till 5:30. Still managed to kill some time, by buying Barbara a little necklace by Elsa Peretti in Tiffany's. Champagne on the terrace at Fontane: the BEST show in Vegas. As Barbara says, what Louis XIV would have done, if only he'd had the money. So Dinner at Tiffany's, or rather, Tiffany's, then dinner. . .
Which was at Fleur de Lys, in our current opinion the best restaurant in Vegas. We're trying to collect all the Kellers. Having managed to get to The French Laundry in Napa, with Thomas, we're now trying Hubert in Las Vegas. The pink swirl you see on the wall consists of thousands of pink roses from Ecuador, bred so that the scent is not overpowering. The waiter pulled one down for Barbara.We chose the four course menu. The appetizers were:
• Ahi tuna three ways: a little cup of consommé with dried bonito flakes, light and refreshing. Then Tuna tartare with ginger, and little rillettes with tarragon, served on Chinese soup spoons. The "trio" is now a standard trick, but it does allow the chef to show off his technique.
• Quail: thin slices of breast over a "torchon" (the word everyone seems to be using this month for "slice") of fois gras, over a celery root custard, studded with hazelnuts. This was an altogether brilliant little dish. Each ingrediant tasted of itself, while all the flavors worked well together. Holt, who dislikes liver, nonetheless proclaimed it the best liver he'd ever had.
The fish courses were diver scallops over what was labeled a "smoky" chowder—a fine textured base with smoked mussels. Next slices of lobster. All very springy: carrot purée, scattered with fresh shee poots—I mean pea shoots—drizzled with mint oil and an orange-curry sauce, and, yes, the lobster was springy, too—just au point.
The featured protein was a rare venison loin, with Chinese cabbage, black cardamom sauce, and a dry date chutney. The other hunks of meat were a hearty lamb loin on a Middle Eastern theme, served with two little cannelloni (if that's not a contradiction) stuffed with minced lamb shoulder, then eggplant caviar, and artichoke barigoule (i.e. stewed with carrots and other aromatics).
Alas, we forgot to scribble down notes on dessert. Something wonderful with chocolate occurred and we ate thereof. Part of the forgetfulness may be due to the wine. We started with a very yeasty champagne, Chartogne-Taillet, "Cuvee St.-Anne." The wine steward was superb: intelligent, knew his stock intimately, very welcoming. We gave him a price range, some rough indications of the types and styles we were looking for (sauv. blanc for the fish, a meaty red for the meat), and he came up these: a Sancerre, Domaine Lucien Crochet, "La Chêne," 2004: not overly flinty, very round and well-balanced; and a mighty Spaniard, Viñedos & Bodega Mustiguillo, Finca Terrerazo, 2003, based on Bobal grape, a new varietal for us.
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