Behold the third Vegas installment! Those of you interested in our outlet purchases will have to wait awhile. I'm stretching this out, as I'm a bit short on entertainment this week due to things at work hanging over my head.
I also prefer presenting only one restaurant per post, so it's not just my workload that's delaying my shopaholic readers' gratification. But at least those who like to eat (i.e., all of you) will enjoy this entry.
We capped off Saturday by dining at Bouchon after 9 p.m. Why 9 p.m.? That's when the outlets finally closed and kicked us out.
Salade Maraîchère au Chèvre Chaud ($11). The mixed greens with red wine vinaigrette, warm goat cheese, and herbes de Provence were a great way to start the meal. Simple, fresh, inviting.
Soupes à l'Oignon ($9.75). I adore French onion soup. I think I could eat it every day, at least during fall and winter. Bouchon's version did not disappoint. Underneath that big blanket of bubbly fromage was a huge piece of fresh bread, swelled with savory broth and embraced by onions that melt in your mouth.
Moules au Safron ($28.50). Mr. Monkey really enjoyed his Maine bouchot mussels steamed with white wine, mustard, and saffron and served with pomme frites. The vessel was totally filled with garlic, which made Mr. Monkey very happy.
Epaule de Porc ($34.50). I opted for the braised pork shoulder with glazed root vegetables, celeriac remoulade, and pork jus. Fanfuckingtastic. So good that it requires profanity. So good that I need not say more.
When Mr. Monkey polished off his mussels, a busboy asked him, "Amigo, you want some bread?" Nevermind that Bouchon is a French bistro. Mr. Monkey replied enthusiastically, "¡Sí!" He used these warm crusty rolls to sop up the remaining garlic goodness of his dish.
Ok, I admit to swiping one and buttering it to my delight. The baked goods at Bouchon are excellent and not to be missed.
The dessert special of the night was a pear and ginger bread tart with cranberry sorbet ($9). The word "special" does not do this sweet ending justice.
In fact, this deserves a second photo.
Like all other Bouchon bakery creations, the bread tart was to die for. Soft, crumbly, buttery airiness topped with icy tartness. Nummers to the max.
This was our last decadent meal of the trip. Well, maybe. I'll let you be the judge of whether the next meal qualifies as further indulgence.