Peppermill Rest. w/ sexist filler re: portions & waitresses
Written: Oct 09 '00
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Product Rating:
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Pros: great good, interesting place, stiff drinks, sexy
Cons: NONE NONE NONE NONE
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| Nood's Full Review: The Strip |
Review Topic: Restaurants
It would take you a lifetime, and a significant fortune, and a couple of extra kidneys probably, to eat in every restaurant in Las Vegas. It might be fun but you wouldn't have your lifetime left to do anything else with, and you'd probably look pretty bad towards the end of the process. I'm thinking of Robert Morley in "Someone is Killing the Great Chefs of Europe". So no sane person can definitively tell you 'the best restaurant in Vegas', they can only talk about their favorites, and the Peppermill is my favorite by a long, long shot. For me it qualifies as an essential Vegas experience. Here's why.
Location. Nestled across from the Stardust, just south of the Riveria (and sharing a parking lot with that increasingly sinister La Concha and that strange Korean souvenir thing), the Peppermill is convenient. You might have been walking past it for years without noticing, but there it is! Open 24 hours of course, and in my experience usually busy but rarely ever completely full.
Décor. Right away, right through the door, the Peppermill gives you a hot blast of retro glamour, more retro glamour than a lot of people can safely handle. Some of us visit Las Vegas specifically to lose money, some of us indulge in the more mentally destructive and fundamentally more degenerate habit of experiencing interiors. There are style dinosaurs here in Vegas that wouldn't survive anywhere else, even Orange County, and I search them out. (If you know of any others, please let me know.) This place opened in 1974 and wonderfully hasn't been changed much since. In layout, it's like a super-Denny's, with all booths. I won't even try to explain the effect of those indoor trees in the main dining room, or the bubbling fireplace (trust me, it's a bubbling fireplace) in the lounge, looking like a ski lodge bar from the year 2525. So, yeah, the Peppermill is way cool simply as a place. If you get bored, you can spy on your fellow diners in the overhead mirrors.
Food. It's a little on the expensive side for a coffee shop, but beware. Beware the portions. (Which comedian was it who talked about portions? Sounds like Jackie Mason - or Jackie, geez, what was his name? Jackie, the mushmouth - oh yeah, Jackie Vernon. Hey, remember Stanley Myron Handleman, who used to be on the Dean Martin show? Oh, sorry.) The portions are big & the food seems fresh and, you know, like real food, real eggs, recognizable vegetables, stuff like that. My choice is usually the Peppermill Inn salad, served with a loaf of hot bread, a chef salad which is like a full pound of everything-in-slices which allows me to feel virtuous and salady while shamelessly packing it in. I haven't ordered everything -- remember Robert Morley -- but I'm convinced anything you order would be good.
Drinks. Healthy amounts of alcohol in these drinks except maybe healthy isn't the word I'm searching for.
Customer base. You get all kinds of people in here, you really do. A wacky mix of people. Great people watching. Last time, we were thoroughly entertained by some old, staid, dull-witted business-type guys in a wedding party, clinking their glasses to announce a toast, which led to a funny glass-clinking epidemic around the restaurant. . . . and I've seen junior mob types talking a little too loudly about their dealings. . . . Eastern European tourists, you know, a wacky mix. And my deep affection for the Peppermill isn't diminished, one little bit, by the amazing crop of waitresses they raise here. Consistently sexy and friendly and conversational, dead-spot-on professional, all of 'em, with great legs. I hope I'm not being sexist by admitting that I'm attracted by the waitresses here, and their smiles and legs, is that sexist?
Peppermill is one of those rare places in Vegas that promises a lot, and then actually makes good on the promise. Stop by, don't tell them I said hi (because they wouldn't know me from Stanley Myron Handleman), make nice, eat, idly calculate your next move, relax.
Recommended:
Yes
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Epinions.com ID:
Nood
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Member: Martin Dane
Reviews written: 8
Trusted by: 6 members
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