What Happens in Vegas

How can I describe Strobie's Las Vegas 40th Birthday Extravaganza?  Fun?  Exhausting?  Tasty?  Hungover?  It was all of the above.  We had a great time.  But I'm keeping the salacious details a secret.  Some things a Mango never tells.  And what "Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas®," right?  Let's talk more generally about my overall impressions.  And about the food, bien sur.

Vegas is definitely a nighttime city.  It's "yo momma say you ugly" ugly during the day.  You definitely need the sun to go down and the neon to turn on to truly enjoy it.  Planet Hollywood was over the top.  The uber-loud music, throngs of people, in-your-face changing lights and chandelier columns, and in-your-nostrils room scent blowing through the air vents in the lobby told me that the weekend was going to full of nothing but trouble.  Shatterproof, the Jayhawk, and I were giggling like schoolgirls at the promise of Chimney Fallin' debauchery.  We giggled even more when we ran into Lady La La and decided to people watch at Cabo Wabo.  Viewing the mess of people from up high on the patio was high entertainment, especially when we noticed that the guy dressed up as Woody from Toy Story was falling asleep while standing up.  A few hours of drinking and eating really bad and expensive corporate Tex-Mex later (being joined by Miladius, birthday boy Strobie, and his friend, Vicky), we napped (we napped a lot during the weekend and realized that regular napping was crucial to surviving the weekend) and got ready for dinner at Central LV.  Which was pretty disappointing, actually, but I think that it was more disappointing that we were so disappointed in it, if that makes sense.  The space was incredible, and our server, Adam, was great, but Michel needs to fly back to Vegas to do some needed quality control, mis bonitos.  The deviled eggs with anchovies were delicious, and the smashed potatoes were creamy and dreamy.  Miladius' fried chicken was quite yummy, and the cheese balls were too good (as expected), but the steak tartare was soooo meh we barely touched it, the fries were cold, Strobie's gnocchi were down right inedible (gray and heavy and sauced with Ragu®), and the surprise Celebration Cakes were too cold to enjoy.  Walking through Caesars Palace in all its lovely Roman gaudiness made up for the blah dining experience, though.  That, and the dancing water in front of the Bellagio.  Undulating streams of water shooting into the air set to "Big Spender?!"  I never knew water could be so dirty!  And half-Rican go-go boy, Carlos Luis, at Krave more than made up for any of the night's previous transgressions.  So much so that I think we finally made it to bed at 4 ayem.  Maybe 5 (?).  I can't be sure.  My body was not in synch with the time the clock told me.

And that was all on Thursday.  Friday we ate at the PH buffet, which was so broke down palace bad that I can't stomach to write about it.  After some window shopping and hours of free beers and Keno at the casino, we napped before heading off to RM Seafood for Strobie's main event birthday dinner.  And that was an even bigger disappointment than dinner at Central.  I don't understand how dinner just for the Jayhawk and me was $330.  Were my 2 Budweisers $20 each?  Was my amuse-bouche of paper-thin cucumber and lox not gratis?  Did we pay extra for the 6 servers we had waiting on our table (who, BTW, had no choice but to wait on us because we were the only table in the entire upper level the last hour we were there)?  I mean, the foie gras "two ways" was delicious, but it wasn't the best thing I've eaten all year, and for the price, it should have been.  My entree halibut was totally upstaged by the 6 mini cauliflower florets that came with it.  The grilled baby octopus were fantastic, but I can get better in Madrid at my friend, Pablo's, dive bar for pennies on the dollar I spent.  And the star of the night was the Jayhawk's...wait for it...gnocchi with braised beef short rib ragu.  The gnocchi were the light and pillowy and melted in your mouth.  The ragu was rich and flavorful and perfectly savory.  But, again, for a meat dish to be the best dish at the table at a seafood restaurant?  Something ain't right.  Like our close-to $1000 group total.  I was so mad!  Thank goodness I ran into Manny Pacquiao at the Mandalay Bay casino.  He's so tiny and bad-ass.  That made me happy.  As did the late-night drinks back at Central and weebling and wobbling back to our hotel room with Shatterproof while the Jayhawk laughed at us as he stayed behind with the nice Welsh couple we met at the bar.  I think that was at 3:30 ayem.  And it would have been earlier had Shatterproof and I not gotten lost for 30 minutes in the PH casino.  I smile about it now.

Saturday was a day of breakfast (breakfast pizza [way too salty], coffee [mmm...Sanka], orange juice [Tang]) at the PBR Grill, and napping and vegging on the bed watching hours and hours of VH1.  That night we did the buffet (feh) and the Carnivale show (I loved it, it was so bad) at the Rio and a quick drink at the gorgeous (gorgeous!) Cosmopolitan before calling it a night and a weekend.

All in all, Vegas was fine.  I'm glad the Jayhawk and I went with such good friends and for such a big occassion.  But I don't think I'll be going back.  It's way too spendy for such mediocrity.  Unless it's to see Curtis Luis shakin' his money maker on the podium, again.  Now that I'd go back for.

You Cold Compress Me

It looks like Halloween Weekend caught up with me, mis bonitos.  I've been fighting a head cold since Sunday evening. 

I kind of felt less-than-100% that afternoon, but I couldn't let a few sniffles keep me from getting my food and drink on at Lincoln for brunch.  Which was good, but I think it had more to do with the company and endless punch bowls of mimosas and pointsettias than the food.  The food was fine.  I got the mac 'n cheese, which was nice and creamy and smoky, and it was a blessing that it came with green beans and not fava beans because me no likey favas, and the crisp green beans in the melty smooth mac were a good contrast.  I just wish the portion was a tad bigger.  Which was the general sense I got from the rest of the crew's food.  Everything was tasty but just not enough ("seasonal small plates -- an overdone and not-well-done concept in this town, IMHO -- aside).

Another sense I got?  The staff were really nice and attentive, but the manager was bit too casual in her attempt to seem attentive.  It's great that she came to the table and shot the shizz with us for a bit, but dropping the F-bomb in rapid succession when talking about her faulous gays and what all the boys at our table could do with the open mouth and big nose on the DJ left us all a bit "the fuh...?!."  We got over it once the DJ finally started playing some more upbeat and less sleepy Muzak™ dub beats, though.  And after we'd had more bottomless drinks.  I'd go back for them.  At the bar.  Without the colorful commentary.  Unless it's coming from me or the Jayhawk.  Overall rating: 2 besos.

Now back to my DVR'd Top Model so I can catch up before tonight's new episode.  I miss you already, Bianca-not-Beyonce.

Update:  I'd go back to Lincoln for some peanut butter lovin'.  Maybe I can get the Jayhawk to take me there for my fast-approaching birthday dinner.  He likes peanut butter even more than I do...

Diamonds Are a Boy's Best Friend, Too

But only if they're synthetic and made from tequila. And only if you're a 17-year-old fratboy douche wannabe who just happens to be the most famous baby on an album cover in a generation. Maybe the diamondization of tequila will lead to a shortage of drinking tequila and make prices go up like the advent of ethanol did for corn here in Los Estados? Luckily, I don't have to worry about my auburn-not-ginger boy, Hot Ginge, going for the new diamond standard. As I remember, he likes the vodka...up his nose. Oh, Hot Ginge...You're the Hot Gingiest.

(Photo courtesy of Wikipedia)

How To Survive Election Night 101

Distraction has been the word of that day today. I really do think that Election Day should be declared a holiday like it is in Rico. The Government knows ain't nobody gonna be workin' on a day like today, so why play and not officially call the day off? Plus, it encourages voter participation without celenebriation because there's no sales of liquor until after the polls have closed. So, what else are Ricans going to do other than go to the polls if they can't get their drink on?

But I digress. Distraction has reigned supreme today thanks to analysis like this, which goes in depth on what to expect tonight, especially in VA and PA. Which is encouraging and could lead to early happiness. But then there are stories of voting machine/process problems, and then palms start sweating, stomachs start turning, and headaches come on fast at the thought that VA could be the new FL. And the polls and the polls and the polls. It's enough to make a Rican and a Kansan go "Ugh."

So what to do to survive tonight? Forget what the NYT has to say and just drink, day job the next day or not. That's what this Mango and the Jayhawk will be doing at Casa Chimney Fall. That, and laughing at Jim Gilmore. According to the latest VA Senate race numbers, Jeebus, does he suck. Ha, ha!