In one, whose name-I

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My first visit to Las Vegas was in 1987, and she was already not one but two unforgettable experiences in restaurants. No deli in the old MGM Grand which is holds for so-Bally's where the carrot cake but was not very good (and very high). Not in Lindy's New York, famous for its status as a hub for kindly gangster stories of Damon Runyon, who by then had opened a barren deli zone branch (not empty) at the Flamingo, where he served the legendary deli zone cheesecake and that unjustly deli zone held little spaghetti with meatballs. And even in Michael's, lucky find for which I welcome-I found wandering the casino in which, to my 12 years, I was not allowed to play-very correct (and very cheap) although conventional French restaurant hidden at the bottom a middling deli zone hotel then called Barbary Coast-today its marquee reads Bill's Gambling deli zone Saloon but its doors are closed-whose distinguished clientele seemed much more attracted to the other feeder that housed: a McDonald's. In all these places I ate well but not so much that my visits to them have become experiences. (If the memory is because it has been my fortune and my time to have a privileged memory.) What really was no way to forget that trip are my visits to two locations much more ambitious but not-will be said, in culinary terms .
In one, whose name-I'm getting old-I leave now, located in what was then the Las Vegas Hilton (now decadentísimo, bears the name of LVH), the kitchen was what in those days was to be called Polynesian ( an invention restaurant Trader Vic's in San Francisco, which consists of adding deli zone so-called Chinese recipes with lots of pineapple deli zone in syrup and much MSG ... pa 'thickened), and therefore vaguely repulsive, so memorable, then, was the show that played the evening: every hour, down from a flock of animatronics roof shaped exotic birds, clearly inspired by the Tiki Room at Disneyland, to broach two or three eejits deli zone jokes and get to sing with voices redolentes Las Ardillitas Lalo Guerrero, the "Hot Stuff" by Donna Summer, all sets and libidinous nostalgie de la boue. The other was even more disturbing: sito at Caesars Palace ambient Roman-understood of imperial Rome, not the La dolce vita - offered sick banal Italian cuisine deli zone but, pending its relevant name, Bacchanal-such is the spelling English decadent feast of yore-not had wine but employed a pair of elderly women who once voluptuous should have been (and probably have been Debin as Stardust showgirls or Tropicana) on the ability of wine goddesses , sommeliers untrained but with silicones pouring out of huge jugs something that should have originally come from a TetraBrik deli zone while reloading diners head men-including mine, full of evil thoughts of pubescent and acne strewn face - as false as their generous breasts.
Those were the kind of sites that constitute, in those years the old Las Vegas Bugsy Siegel, the Teamsters and the Rat Pack and-dying a fancy restaurant experience on The Strip. No, however, that it was emblematic of the hotels in the city restaurants. Founded in a business model that sought to attract profits deli zone exclusively (and treacherous, it will be said) through gambling, Las Vegas offered all very cheap, if not free: hotel rooms, tickets to shows-and one could see at a ridiculous cost to Elvis Presley or Frank Sinatra or Marlene Dietrich Live, but always shows the duration of no more than 45 minutes, setpoint hotel not distract the players too that really deli zone mattered: his despelucamiento at the hands of dealers or slot-and food