Picasso
It was a stunning morning in Las Vegas. Lying in bed at the Monte Carlo I could see the Eiffel Tower across the street cutting through a perfectly clear blue sky painted over the desert mountains behind it. The mission for the day was to get my hair cut. Jeffrey’s wife Teresa went to the airport to greet her friend Carol, so Jeffrey and I went down to the Monte Carlo buffet to have breakfast. This was another uninspired Vegas buffet without much to recommend it. I had some oily scrambled eggs and a syrupy crepe. They did bring a whole pot of decaf to the table, which I appreciated.
We found the girls, but by then they were hungry, so we left them at the café and headed over to the Venetian to reserve our seats for the André-Philippe Gagnon show that evening. We got a table for four behind the first railing for $75 each. Yesterday I had called my Starwood Platinum personal concierge Pamela to see if she could get us in to the hottest restaurant in town, Picasso at the Bellagio. Sure enough she was able to cajole them to find a table for us So we had the evening all lined up.
Jeffrey and I played some Empire slots, the one where the gorilla climbs up the Empire State Building, then headed back to prepare for his seminar. The taxi situation was abysmal. I remembered why I always rent a car in Las Vegas. We spent as much time waiting for taxis and waiting in traffic as doing anything else today.
Soon it was time to see the show, so we cabbed it back over to the Venetian and arrived with ten minutes to spare. The André-Philippe Gagnon show is in the trendy C2K nightclub at the Venetian. Hostesses wear backless black jumpsuits with short shorts and long hair. We waited a long time to get our drink order, then I got served a Manhattan in a wine glass. I protested and compromised on a rocks glass. Still, it’s not the same. The performer did a number of singing impressions of famous artists such as Mick Jagger, Lou Rawls, and Sting, strung together by a series of stale jokes. I left after 10 minutes and played some Pai Gow Poker. On my way out I had them take the glassless Manhattan off the bill, noting that at $75 a ticket I expected a martini glass. I inquired about the refund policy for tickets and was told there wasn’t one.
I played an hour of Pai Gow Poker to no great effect other than enjoying the company of the great staff at the Venetian. I think the friendliest crews on the Strip work here. When the show was over the others found me and we went to wait in the taxi line to get ourselves over to Bellagio.
The good thing about arriving by cab is that you get to go in the grand front entrance. We walked in under the $3 million Dale Chihuly glass sculpture and gaped at the grandness of the flower and earthenware gallery behind the front desk. I asked the concierge how to get to Picasso. Like directions to anywhere in Vegas, it began with “You go through the casino…” We descended an escalator leading to a charming high-ceilinged room with a full picture-window wall looking out on the fountain lake and Paris across the street. The walls were covered by many original Picasso paintings, hence the name, and these paintings were much more impressive than the poor selection at the Picasso museum in Paris! The general manager greeted me and welcomed me to his restaurant. I thanked him sincerely for juggling reservations to get us in.
The meal was phenomenal if pricey. I got the four-course tasting menu ($85) and we shared two of the suggested flight of wines ($48 each). There are few choices on the menu so if you are not an adventurous eater this may not be the place for you. My menu started with a generous helping of superbly sweet lobster meat accompanied by a German white wine. Next was a large seared sea scallop, served with a Pinot Gris. Along with all of this was a delicious assortment of breads and crackers. The third course was a huge helping of seared foie gras that I devoured with the aid of some dark olive bread and the Alsace white wine that came with it. Finally two perfect medallions of lamb arrived (Carol chose the snapper instead, the one option on the tasting menu) accompanied by a rather oaky French red that I didn’t care for.
As a rule I don’t eat dessert, but they had profiteroles so I forced myself. They were filled with ice cream rather than frozen custard but I didn’t complain. Dinner for the four of us came to $468 before tip. This place definitely lived up to its reputation as one of the finest dining experiences in Las Vegas. Every fifteen minutes the fountains lit up and did their dance as the night melted away.
We poured ourselves into a taxi and headed back to the Monte Carlo to play a little blackjack. I wanted a bottle of water but a half-hour went by with no waitress service. This was one of those casinos where the pit crew was no help at all trying to summon a waitress, and by the time one came I was ready for bed. Since we were getting the excellent rate of free for this hotel stay I can’t complain too much—suffice it to say that I see no reason ever to set foot in the Monte Carlo again.