Nestled in the ground floor of the NewYork-NewYork Casino on the famed Las Vegas strip, is one of the most magnificent steakhouses I have ever visited. Just to the side of the gaming tables and constantly chirping slot machines is an area that has been decorated to appear like a strangely undersized portion of downtown New York. Not the dirty New York that smells like urine, but the cozy New York we so often see on the other side of the window glass from Central Perk.

This version of New York, completely contained under the expansive ceiling of the casino, is mostly full of gift shops and restaurants, separated by the occasionally quaint steam belching manhole cover. It really must be seen to be believed. Just on the edge of this Burtonesque sprawl of eateries lies an unassuming door with a small, windowed meat locker. Inside the locker are several racks filled with giant pieces of meat, beautiful pieces of meat.

If you aren't completely transfixed by the display of beef, you may notice a sign next to the window that vaguely explains Gallagher’s unique and secret method of aging their perfectly marbled meat. Five weeks dry and three weeks wet, or vice-versa, I don't remember and frankly it isn't real important, because the end result is exquisite.

I knew right from the start I was in a classy joint. I ordered a Corona, and when the waiter brought my bottle and its accompanying glass I told him I didn't need a glass, that I preferred to drink from the bottle. The elder, professional waiter very politely sneered at me and whisked my glass away in obvious disgust at my barbarian habits. I don't think he would have been surprised to see me eat with my hands and spit on the floor like John Wayne pretending to be a steppes raider.

When my beef was brought round I was astonished. Rarely have I been served such a large portion. The steak filled the plate and was at least three inches thick. It looked much larger than its advertised weight of 20 ounces. To my credit as a carnivore I was able to trudge through the entire slab of cow. The only chore in so doing was the consumption, for the meat itself was extremely tender and juicy.

There were salads and side dishes and all were exquisite. They were also al’acarte. Nothing came with your meal at this joint and it was all expensive, but very tasty. The wine list was extensive and the staff extremely helpful. No sooner had my father-in-law-pro-tempore touched his cigarette to his lips than a young man rushed forward and acrobatically produced a lit Zippo. One can only presume that the restaurant had this smiling man surgically altered with a kangaroo pouch of gadgets, because no sooner had the cigarette been lit than the Zippo disappeared to be replaced with a clean ashtray.

So we gorged ourselves on the splendor of a fining dining establishment. You don't get treated this way at the Sizzler and you notice the difference at the end when they bring you the check in a real leather notebook. The ladies had both eaten sparingly, a salad and soup if I recall correctly. Only two of us indulged in the Ubersteak, and the bill still came to $250 before tip. If you got the green this is the place to spend it.

Recommendation: This place gets all my stars, even if it is a little expensive. The whole place reeked of class. It's not what I'd call a great date restaurant. If she's the waifish type, like my SO, then she won't appreciate the huge steak and you just end up looking like a pig. On the other hand, if you're old fashioned and looking for the perfect place to ask for her father’s permission to marry, this is the place. After you've filled him with fine beef and cocktails and the blood is draining from his brain to power his tummy, pop the question. Who could say no after a meal like this? If he happens to the type that can say no, you can probably hop up and run out, chances are he won't be following you in any kind of hurry.

Inside the NewYork-NewYork Casino
3790 Las Vegas Blvd. South
Las Vegas, NV 89109
702-740-6969

Embarrassing, but true story

As we were sat back, attempting to casually and elegantly loosen our belts after stuffing our gills with cow pieces, our waiter came around. He leaned into the table and conspiratorially whispered, "Do you like Pork?"

"Hell yeah I like Pork!" I replied with gusto. He hurried away and I was left with fantasies of after dinner pork chops, or perhaps some sort of tasty, heretofore unknown pork dessert, like bacon cakes, or maybe ham candy. I was interrupted from my gastronomic day dream when my SO's father leaned towards me and said,

"I think he said Port, not pork."

He was of course correct and the waiter returned to pour us each a complimentary glass of after dinner port. It was good and really hit the spot after such a heavy meal.

I was really looking forward to those bacon cakes though.

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