In between our high roller dinner and our way back dinner (review forthcoming) we needed a few other fortifications.
Ever since the Beastie Boys sang about eating Fatburgers when they are way out west, I have had a craving for them. Since I was with someone with a car, we made a run on the way from the airport. Given how dated, you got to fight for your right to party now sounds, perhaps I should not use the Beastie Boys as modern day food auteurs. Decent toppings and bun could not rescue a burger cooked to the specifications only an e-coli frightened corporate attorny would love. Fries were even worse. [A couple of fatburgers around town, we visited the one across from the Monte Carlo on the strip.]
Some of my favorite food in Vegas remains the the quasi french baked treats at the Paris Hotel. I could easily forgo protein and live on the various croisants, piviers, and chocolate twists. I only wish the same Frenchmen who showed them how to blend butter into dough showed them how to brew coffee. (As an aside, I always wondered back when I was visiting France a lot, why there could not be some kind of exchange program where we sent them our designs for toilets and they taught us how to bake bread and brew coffee.)
Finally, no trip to Vegas would be complete without a few passes at the buffet line. We hit the Paris buffet relatively early on Sunday morning (giving me enough time and fuel to be fully sick of the Bears performance.) I remember a recent poster commenting that the quality of the Paris buffet had gone down. Well, it's hard to fully compare, since at pure breakfast time, there's not a full range of food out. Still, for breakfast, there were a lot of goodies to sample. The smoked salmon was less than a luxury variety but decent enough. The smallish selection of french cheeses were also good. I like to eat crepes like pancakes, and nothing beats one hot off the iron. Another nice little touch, assorted dried fruits, like trail mix without the nuts, for the hot cereals. The buffet includes a sample of the baked treats mentioned above, but not all of the goodies sold in the cafe. The baked ham was nothing special. A friend commented that the "Alsactian" sausages tasted a lot like bratwurst. Another friend panned the scrambled eggs. Overall, I was happy, although I would say it was not nearly as over-the-top luxurious as the Bellagio buffet (sampled mid-morning last July).
One final note, Paris is keeping the awesomely pretty Napolean bar closed most of the time as a cost saver. By far one of the nicest places to drink in Las Vegas.