Sunday, September 30, 2007

Saturday Wynnings

The Monkeys started off Saturday with a light breakfast at the 24-hour cafe at the Wynn. Mr. Monkey had a pain de chocolat and passion tea lemonade. I had the biggest pistachio macaroon ever and a non-fat latte. I pulled out the Tide-to-Go pen for size comparison purposes.

Then we parted ways. Yup. Parted. I am not a gambler. He is. He went here. For hours. And hours. And hours.

I went everywhere else. This is a series I call "Places From Which I Bought Nothing."

Awesome award-winning sweets (giant macaroon tower/cake and chocolate sculpture you may recognize from a competition aired on the Food Network).


Pool. I did not take pictures of the unleashed boobies at the Sunset Pool. Sorry.

After picking up Mr. Monkey's brother, sister-in-law, and Little Monkey Niece, we reconvened at the buffet, where you are not allowed to take pictures of the food. I...uh...was talking on my iPhone, and it just happened to snap these.

This should come as no surprise to you, but dining is simply not as enjoyable with small children. I'm sorry, but it just isn't. Corralling crayons, pimping Elmo, and shushing boisterousness are not my idea of a good time.

Later, we saw Spamalot. It was ok. I suppose if you're really nerdy and love love love Monty Python, you'd go apeshit about it (like the couple in front of us did, all whooping and hollering), but neither of us is a huge Monty Python fan, although we have both seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

If you haven't at least seen The Holy Grail, you'd best skip Spamalot, as it will make zero sense to you. However, if you're the kind of person who knows all the words to "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" by heart, this is the musical for you. Spamalot was definitely amusing at times, but I'm glad we paid $0.00 instead of $108.90 per seat. Not worth the money.

After Spamalot, we dined at Daniel Boulud Brasserie, down the escalator from the famous Wynn parasols and facing the famous Wynn waterfall.


Pictured below is a gigantic frog singing "Low Rider" above the waterfall as seen from my seat. It was really weird.

The flowers at the restaurant were awesome, just like all flowers at the Wynn.

I had a yummilicious flirtini with fresh raspberries. It was strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.

We shared the Maryland Crab Gratin appetizer, which had Meyer lemon aioli and a light panko-crust. The crab was succulent and plentiful and complemented the delicious split breadsticks and endive wonderfully.

Mr. Monkey's braised short ribs en daube (redundant, I know), accompanied by carrot mouseline, were amazing. The beef was so tender that it felt apart when my fork touched it -- no knife necessary. It just melted in my mouth. The carrot mouseline was incredibly smooth and light. Thank goodness the Monkeys always eat everything family-style. Our usual practice is to switch plates halfway through dinner. Score!

I ordered the trio of kurobuta pork with spaetzle, cipollini onion, and roasted apple. The kurobuta pork was good, but not great. The pork sausage was juicy and pleasant but nothing extraordinary. In contrast, its cousin on the bone was a wee bit dry. The spaetzle, however, was awesome -- lovely consistency with a little spring to it and perfectly browned for a crispy outside. I wish there'd been more spaetzle. Mmm, fried doughy goodness.

Our desserts were fantastic. The strawberry coulis was so much more than coulis! It was a piping hot strawberry heaven embraced by the bastard child of a funnel cake and cobbler and topped with a nutty bittersweet ice cream. An insanely delicious melding of flavors! Our raspberry pistachio torte was splendid, as well. Imagine sweet pistachio made gloriously creamy paired with slightly tart juicy raspberries and a wondrous crumbly pie base. Then add fresh cream. Sin city, indeed.

But wait! It's not over yet! We were sent some cute little petit fours, compliments of the chef. They turned out to be outstanding warm buttery bite-sized blueberry muffins. Thanks, chef!

The best part? It was all free. That's right. Free. God bless baccarat.

And that was Saturday. Sunday's activities will merit yet another entry....
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