A True Gem Among Rhinestones
Okay, anybody who knows me knows that
I'm a particular fan of Giada De Laurentiis. I became a fan during
her “Everyday Italian” days on Food Network, back when the
network was actually worth watching. In addition to being a talented
chef, I've always found her to be a nice person. I've actually met
Giada, spoken with her, spent time with her and have frequently
defended her against shallow detractors who criticize her for her
appearance. Is there a more absurd reason to “hate” a person?
Anyway, I was excited when Giada made
the announcement in 2014 that she was opening a restaurant in Las
Vegas, joining the ranks of many other “celebrity” chefs with
eponymous eateries there. And I was even more excited when I finally
got the opportunity to dine at her signature place.
I don't much like Las Vegas in general.
It's just not my scene. In the first place, with apologies to Elvis,
the “bright light city” doesn't so much “set my soul on fire”
as it just burns up my wallet. I'm not fond, for example, of shelling
out ten dollars for a Coke and a candy bar. I don't gamble, I don't
like crowds, I don't like noise, I don't like drunks, and I
especially don't like crowds of noisy, gambling drunks. And I object
to being accosted by grubby pornslappers who pop their smutty little
cards at me every ten feet as I walk along The Strip. After all, why
should I patronize them when I can, as the numerous rolling billboard
trucks proclaim, have girls delivered “direct to your room” just
like a pizza? Thank you. No.
I do, however, appreciate the vibrant
Vegas food scene. Just about every “famous” chef I know either
personally or through various media has a place in “The
Entertainment Capital of the World.” Tom Colicchio, Gordon Ramsay,
Emeril Lagasse, Masahara Morimoto, Buddy Valastro, Joel Robuchon, Guy
Fieri, Wolfgang Puck, Jose Andres, Robert Irvine......the list is
extensive to say the least. But it was on Giada's place at The
Cromwell that I was focused this trip.
We had a 9 p.m. reservation, but
between being seriously jet lagged and frankly tired of all the
throngs crowding The Strip, we showed up early with the intention of
just sitting quietly at the bar until nine if necessary. Fortunately,
it wasn't: thanks to a very friendly and accommodating staff, we were
seated within about thirty minutes. But our relatively brief sojourn
at the bar was quite comfortable and pleasant. We were attended to
promptly and settled in to enjoy a nice Pinot Noir (hers) and a cool
glass of Peroni (mine). When we were seated, we were quite well
seated, thank you, at one of the coveted window tables overlooking
The Strip below and the adjacent fountains of the Bellagio. The
restaurant's huge retractable windows were open on a pleasant autumn
evening, enabling us to take in all the dazzling sights and
cacophonous sounds from a nice safe perch on the hotel's second
floor.
The ambiance and décor are very much
reflective of Giada, including works by her artist friend, Darren
Quinn. Giada fans and viewers will recognize his “Amore” from her
TV show set. There are also some wonderful portraits of her, her
grandfather, Dino, and her beautiful grandmother, Silvana Mangano
displayed near the bar. It's an elegant and sophisticated vibe that
is at the same time quite understated and soothing in the midst of
all the surrounding glitz and faux glamour.
I don't know where Giada (the
restaurant) found Fred, but I wish he could be cloned or at the very
least loaned out to train every server at every eating place in the
country. Friendly, personable, efficient, and knowledgeable, Fred was
a joy. He was perfectly professional without being the least bit
pretentious or stuffy. He never hovered, but he was never far away.
His familiarity with every dish was impressive, although I do wish
he'd learn to pronounce “mascarpone.” The flat, American-accented
“mahs-car-POHN” was a bit grating, but that's just the annoying
purist in me. Fred's recommendations were spot on and he seemed
genuinely pleased when we were genuinely pleased by them. Obviously
somebody who enjoys his craft and is not just collecting a paycheck.
Whoever was running the kitchen the
night we were there (I know it wasn't Giada) also obviously enjoys
their craft and is extremely good at it. The food was absolutely
delicious. Giada features a unique fusion of Giada De Lauretiis'
personal “authentic Italian meets modern California” style. By
and large, it's lighter fare that doesn't necessarily sacrifice any
of the traditional Italian taste.
My wife was especially amazed by her
ravioli with Brussels sprouts and brown butter. She has never met a
Brussels sprout she enjoyed – until now. Her fulsome praise of the
cook on the vegetable and her equally enthusiastic enjoyment of the
delicately unctuous brown butter were the talk of the evening. My
bucatini pasta dish was also enjoyable, with a sweetly tangy pomodoro
sauce and perfectly cooked pasta. Well, the al dente texture was
perfect. The pasta itself could have benefited from just a teensie
bit more salt. I know a lot of places have to cook to the lowest
common denominator of misinformed patrons who are convinced that the
slightest amount of salt in their food will lead them straight to
hardened arteries and an early grave, but I was somewhat disappointed
that the cooks at Giada would fall into that. Giada knows, as every
Italian does, that salt – in what some consider egregious amounts –
is the only way to flavor pasta. There was a little dish of flake
salt on our table, placed there to compliment some incredible bread,
and I crushed and sprinkled the tiniest pinch of it over my dish to
immediately discernible results. The minuscule addition made the
tomato flavor in the sauce pop even more. But again, I'm a purist and
a cook. Others may not have noticed or appreciated the difference.
And these were porzioni veramente
italiane, truly Italian
portions. No huge overflowing platters of food. These were perfectly
plated individual portions, not great piles designed to feed ravenous
hordes like you usually find in “Italian” places.
Speaking as I was of the bread, a
complimentary plate of ciabatta and an olive oil rosemary bread was
absolutely to die for when combined with a selection of condiments
that included the aforementioned flake salt, some capers, some
peperoncino, an herbed olive oil, and an insanely good lemon
mascarpone butter. I'm definitely stealing that last one.
I'd also like to steal the hot cocoa
souffle that capped our incredible meal. A fresh-baked hot chocolate
souffle that was deflated tableside and filled with rich chocolate
sauce and served next to a scoop of creamy marshmallow gelato.
Buonissimo! Perfetto! Delizioso! And
a whole bunch of other Italian superlatives.
Did
this heavenly repast come cheap? Oh, hell no. My credit card went
straight to ICU. But you know what? The food, the service, the
atmosphere, the entire experience was worth every penny and I'll
eagerly do it again next time I'm in town. Just don't think you're
going to Olive Garden when you cross the threshold at Giada. The food
is obviously superior to anything you'll ever get
at such a place, but be aware that you'll get a lot less for a lot
more.
Giada
is located on the second floor of The Cromwell Hotel & Casino at
3595 S. Las Vegas Blvd. They serve a weekend brunch Friday, Saturday,
and Sunday and are open from 9 a.m. to 10:30 p.m. those days. Monday
through Thursday hours are 5 p.m until 10:30. Parking? Yeah, right.
This is Vegas, baby. Reservations are not strictly required but are
strongly suggested. Dress is golf course or business casual. But
again, this is Vegas: don't be surprised by anything you see. Allow
at least an hour to an hour-and-a-half for your dining experience.
Call (855) 442-3271 or visit the website at
https://www.caesars.com/cromwell/restaurants/giada
.
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