What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
According to the marketers. In Vegas.
I’m pretty sure I caught that bug that took me down like a sleeping dart in a moose last week in Vegas. They didn’t stay in Vegas. They followed me home, those nasty germs.Yes, before my unfortunate bout with the flu, my Beloved and I spent the weekend in Las Vegas.
I lost $2.05 on the penny slots, and I’m betting the buttons I touched to lose, lose and lose again were previously touched by a flu-incubating gray-haired gambler. Ick.
We don’t go to Vegas to gamble, nosirree. That’s a losing proposition. We go to Vegas to eat. Because the food there is awesome.
Two years ago when we were in Vegas for a wedding, my Beloved and I stumbled on a steakhouse on Fremont Street that was so good, the meal ranks among the Top 10 in my entire life.
Why? Because, well, steak. Isn’t that every carnivore’s last meal request? Let’s just say you can’t go wrong with a 20-ounce rib eye.
But more than that, it was the salad. Yes, the green stuff. This salad was a made-at-the-table Caesar salad with real anchovies and egg yolk and imported Parmesan cheese and croutons that must have been fried in butter.
If all salads tasted so good, we’d all be eating more of them.
So we relived the meal of our dreams when we were in Vegas to meet up with some friends. The name of this heavenly steakhouse in Sin City? Andiamo Steakhouse at the D Hotel. It’s worth visiting if you’re into fine dining and you’re celebrating (even if you’re only celebrating not losing your first born at the craps tables).
What else was worth writing home about? We didn’t spend all our time eating and playing sullied penny slots. Tomorrow I’ll write about the Titanic exhibit at the Luxor.