PEACHFRONT SPEAKS

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dom perignon over sorbet, yeah baby 2007-08-05 - 11:35 a.m. Our mystery benefactor left us a $100 credit for Michael's. I wore the wet-look purple club skirt and top, with the purple snakeskin knee-high boots. We'd never eaten there before because the pit bosses at their previous location had a very poor opinion of folks in our line of work, so we'd never played long enough to get any kind of a comp. It was strictly a take the money and run with angry security guards hot on your heels kind of place. So we'd always heard the rave reviews about Michael's, but since we never paid for food in Vegas, we'd never tried it. It's a beautiful place -- hardwoods and stained glass on the entrance, a huge pink-toned stained glass sort of skylight, deep red fabric on the walls, private booths screened with more stained glass, the whole old-fashioned traditional steakhouse ambience going on. Our butts barely hit the seat before an attentive waiter -- there was seemingly an entire crew of waiters per booth, by the way -- came to get our drink orders. The before dinner cocktails came in these huge tumblers, with a little mini carafe on the side with more of the booze of your choice, plus more mixer on the side as well. In the end, we never ordered any wine, because our drinks were so huge that they lasted throughout the entire meal, and we were still finishing up after dessert. And then came a huge anti-pasto tray. I mean huge. Not just the usual cherry tomatoes and various olives, but wicked little delights like quail eggs and some kind of mini pickled beet. Two kinds of bread as well, an entire basket of flat crackers and another entire basket of some kind of dark specialty bread. Oh my God. And don't even get me started on the spread. It was an explosion of goodness on the tongue. At some point in here, we got the menu. I can't remember seeing an honest to God lady's menu without the prices since the 70s. Of course, if it were really the 70s, Peachfront being the snoopy lady that she is, I peeked at IMOM's menu to see what the prices were anyway. I never could resist. Anyway, we placed our orders and turned back to the savage attack on the bread and anti-pasto. I don't know how they sell any appetizers after that. I was wishing I was younger, so I'd have my old appetite back, that's for sure. And then came the sorbet. Holy God. You are not going to believe me, but a man was coming around and splashing Dom Perignon over the sorbet. Seriously. Believe you me, we got our share! My entree was the petite filet, medium rare, which came with quite simply the best damn stuffed tomato I have ever eaten. The steak was terrific too, although -- despite the word petite -- it was too large for me to eat the whole thing, so I cut up leftovers to take back for breakfast. There was a huge dessert cart groaning with fancy liqueurs and tiers of various sweet treats. We didn't have even a tiny bit of room, so we waved it off. But the game wasn't over yet. Along came a huge fruit basket, piled high with various kinds of grape bunches, cherries, apples, Asian pear, regular pear, various stone fronts in the peach/nectarine line, and I don't know what all. Oh, and there was another tray of various chocolate covered fruits, not just the obvious strawberries but kiwi, pineapple, fig, and we didn't even figure out all of the fruits, since we were overwhelmed and couldn't try them all. Whoa. I did manage a chocolate covered fig and a few cherries. And then there was still a selection of mints, round ones and long stick ones too. It was an incredible combination of excellent service, exquisitely prepared food of the highest quality, and sheer pure-dee QUANTITY overload. The best of all possible worlds. Oh, and I just had some of the leftover steak and an Asian pear for my breakfast this morning. The steak was if anything even more delightful for sitting on ice overnight. To me that's the sure sign of a properly aged and seasoned piece of beef. back - next All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2002-2017 by Elaine Radford