We have long been fans of Tom Colicchio, from our meals in the late 90s in New York’s Gramercy Tavern to his judging on our favorite reality show, Top Chef.
So when we decided to take a break from the craziness of work, family and deadlines and go to Las Vegas for a few days, we thought…Craftsteak.
We’d long been aware of Colicchio’s Craftsteak places in New York and L.A., but we hadn’t been to any of them. Same with the sandwich place, ‘Wichcraft, that we nearly went to in San Francisco. So it seemed like a fine idea to get over to the MGM, get a great meal and check things out for ourselves. We went into the evening expecting to be wowed, and also expecting that Colicchio’s steaks and sides would erase the bad tastes we had left from some recent steakhouse disasters.
We arrived early, quickly lost $20 on video poker and decided to check in with the hostess. She told us our table wasn’t ready. She didn’t invite us to the bar for a drink, but we are pretty smart about these things, so we told her that’s where we would be. The bar was busy, but we were able to find two seats together. We asked for a cocktail menu, and the bartender gave us two and also a little flashlight because it was too dark to read. We chose a Hendrick’s martini up, and a house specialty, the sidecar martini, which had rum and syrup and citrus. Sweet and delicious on the one hand, dry and cold on the other — color us impressed with the bartender.
But wait! Our table was ready the moment we’d toasted and had our first sips. We paid our tab, then the hostess led us on a long walk through the big place to our table in the very far corner, kind of by the kitchen. Now, a man might be OK carrying a very full martini on a long schlep to the table, but a lady was not. Up glasses from the bar should be on a little tray and carried for us. This hostess would not ruin our evening, but please. What if we had spilled?
Once we were seated, we could relax a bit and take in the room. At first, we wished we’d been given a lovely curved booth, but the booths are separated by chainmail type screens. (This same material was used in the bar wine racks, sort of as hammocks for each bottle.) Cool effect, but would we feel as if we were stuck in chicken coops?
Our table was near the kitchen. So we had some rattling-hum-of-voices noise, and the sight of dirty dishes going back. Also, the table next to us was very close. We felt the need to acknowledge the men sitting there when we first arrived, and the next table felt the need to chat us up as well. We were all happy to meet new friends and talk about the group’s deejay gig, basketball playing college days and jewelry. But this was not a quiet or romantic setting.
We did take note of the gorgeous Bernardaud china designed especially for the restaurant. We had a moment of fond reminiscence of Gramercy Tavern and its little Bernardaud china plates with tiny feathers. We obsessed, eventually buying a few Bernardaud plates of our own. Craftsteak had a nice white plate with a gorgeous, hand-painted rim of a brownish-pink color. Too bad the flatware was utilitarian and plain and in the case of one fork, bent completely out of shape.
The food, however, was stunning. We started with an avocado salad and kobe tartar. The salad featured two avocado halves beautifully fanned out and buttery beyond belief. To contrast the butteriness, each half was sprinkled with a very crunchy sea salt which made for a wonderful contrast. We were reminded of the strips of lardo we’d had a few years ago on a pizza. The richness was cut nicely by an acidic lightly dressed slaw of cucumber and red onion. A dish presented this way really makes you appreciate the quality of great knife work — its presentation really matched the taste, but how did the peel and slice such a soft delicate avocado without turning it to mush? The tartar was great. It was a fine tartar — but what really made the dish were the crostini it was served with. Again perfectly shaped, perfectly crunchy and wonderfully garlicky, perfectly accenting the luxurious beef.
For mains we went with the filet and the surf and turf, which featured a 7 oz. kobe rib eye and butter poached lobster. For sides we followed our servers suggestion and went with grilled white corn and fries and on our own selected the assorted mushrooms. As we hoped, the beef was perfectly cooked, that wonderful seer on the outside and the rich savory flavor of great beef. The white corn was great white corn, grilled to give it that char flavor which came through nicely with the summery sweetness. This was sweet corn like we haven’t had since our days in New England when we’d pick the corn ourselves and rush home to shuck and boil it. The fries were lightly flavored with vinegar and a great crunch salt. Our only regret was that they were piled so high that we couldn’t finish the stack before they cooled off. The only minor disappointment were the mushrooms. They were very good, just not nearly as good as the other two sides we ordered here.
While the food was grand, what really stole the show for us was the sommelier. In most restaurants today, it is really unusual to find a sommelier who can; 1) listen to customers and not just push what he likes; 2) explain wines in English and 3) make you feel like you know what you’re talking about. It’s easy to wander into a place like Craftsteak, stumble onto the California cab section and pick out a familiar name. It’s much more challenging to reach out and try new things, and that’s what we pushed our sommelier to do.
We went through the list first on our own and identified three wines we were interested in — an Etude cab, a DuMol syrah and Paradigm merlot. These are all wines we had not tried but were from producers we loved. We told him that we loved the spiciness and big fruit of these wines and also that our all time favorite wine is Pichon Lalande. We told him that we were very open to trying something different and that we would prefer if he’d pick something for us. He then knocked it out of the park — he picked a red from Portugal of all places from Quinta do Crasto and made with the touriga nacional grape (which is also used to make port). His description was dead on — the wine had the spiciness of a great syrah with the deep fruit of a great cab. A huge home run. But the hits kept on coming. When we mentioned that we’d love a glass of something white to go with our avocado (no buttery white, something grassy and fruity) he produced a fantastic New Zealand sav blanc which reminded us of a La Sirena muscat we’d had the other night at the beach. When you have a sommelier listening to your ideas, you know you’re in a great place. The glass of white was crisp and light, no fruit or grass or butter overpowering the food. Perfect summer wine for a perfect summer starter.
No meal is complete without at least a split of champagne, and we followed the suggestion and went for the Rene Geoffroy Brut rose. The color was that beautiful pink that lingerie designers always try to capture, and it had that perfect dry yeasty flavor that balances with the fruit and makes real champagne so special. After all that rich food, we wanted something light and sweet to finish off the night so we went with the coconut sorbet, which perfectly fit the bill. Like a good sorbet it was light, creamy and tasted perfectly of coconut. But wait, as we were sipping our champagne and enjoying our sorbet our sommelier stopped by with and Icewein he thought we’d really enjoy. So he poured us each a glass of a wonderful sweet wine, surprisingly clean compared to so many dessert wines that taste amazing and complicated but verge on the cloying or syrupy.
We left the meal stuffed and drunken, in desperate need to hit the tables and earn back a few bills to cover the cost of the decadence. Unfortunately, we were exhausted from the desert heat and indulgence.
Thankfully, we have another day and night to explore Vegas and play and eat. Lunch today at Olives. Maybe by then, we’ll be hungry again!
