There are some days where I just get that insatiable craving for a whopping, greasy, succulent patty of meat covered with oozing cheese. Top it with some grilled onions, lettuce for texture, and a nice full bun with a mound of crispy fries, and I’m having a good friggin’ day. Truly, there are few other foods as universally pleasing and unabashedly heart-stopping as the American burger. And symbolically speaking, few other foods are so intimately tied to the identity of a nation, both as an item of nostalgia, and as a cultural ambassador. (ex. McDonald’s in China and…well…everywhere else) More recently, the evolution of the “gourmet burger,” has revamped the image of the hamburger from greasy fast-food staple to high quality, gastronomic fare. Chef Hubert Keller, of Fleur de Lys, continues that trend, with Burger Bar, serving kicked-up Americana with some of Keller’s French culinary roots thrown in.

As far as atmosphere, Burger Bar sorta reminds me of me in seventh grade: awkward and trying too hard to fit in. For one, it’s located in a mall. For most, mention mall and food, and names like Sbarro, Cinnabon, McDonalds and the like pop up. Yet here, amid the tiled walkway and next to the hair salon, we find a restaurant fathered by one of America’s best chefs?

Walking inside, I found myself thinking, “classic sports bar on steroids.” Deep wooden accents, high booths, beer signs, photos of locals and a long bar lining one side of the restaurant connote a simple, classic pub. But this is soon betrayed by the merchandising and plasma TVs stuffing the walls. Everywhere. No joke, the wall above the bar is lined with Burger Bar tees and underwear, along with plasma TVs simultaneously showing three or four different sports channels. And every booth has a TV built into the side. Every freakin’ booth. A bit excessive in my opinion. I’ve never been a big fan of TVs in restaurants, I’ve always found them to be distracting from the food, the people you’re eating with, and the conversations you’re supposed to be having with them. All in all, it felt like someone tried too hard to make the place feel like a sports bar or a neighborhood pub, ending up instead with one big contrived gimmick that felt like neither.

Allow me a moment to say that the idea of a gourmet burger has always confused me a bit. Take a cheap, quintessential American comfort food, the “food for the masses” if you will, and throw in the best of haute cuisine, the antithesis of the common man’s food. Like putting roasted duck in peasent’s gruel. In my eyes, the gourmet burger concept parallels much of fusion cuisine. If done carefully, thoughtfully, and with respect, intriguing and phenomenal flavor combinations can be achieved, grounding people in familiar flavors, while introducing new ones to the mix. On the other hand, if things are just haphazardly thrown together, the result can be directionless, disastrous, and disrespectful,(think Southwestern egg rolls) leading to what some foodies call, “con-fusion cuisine.” Then again, if all that is “gourmet” about gourmet burgers is the higher quality ingredients, then the concept makes a little more sense.

Verbal diarrhea aside, it’s on to the food. Ordering a burger here is kinda like building your own teddy bear, everything is customizable. Rather then specific pre-made burgers, the menu lists off a plethora of ingredients ranging from jalapeño bacon, prosciutto, and fried egg to lobster, black truffle, and even seared foie gras. (Yes, foie gras.) All of them are grouped into categories like: the Farm, the Pantry, the Earth, the Ocean…etc…all from which you can pick and choose to compose your burger. Included are six different selections of meat: Ridgefield Farm Beef, Black Angus Beef, Buffalo, American Kobe, Colorado Lamb, and Turkey, as well as several different bun types. You can even choose the types of fries you would like.

This build-your-own burger concept is like asking a girl out on a date, things can either go very well for you, (if you know what you want) or horrifically bad. (if you…well…don’t) Indeed, the world is your oyster, perhaps, overwhelmingly so. Luckily, for the indecisive ones among us, some pre-selected chef’s burgers are also available on the menu, including the over-the-top Rossini burger, made with a Kobe beef patty, sauteed foie gras, shaved truffles, and Madiera sauce served on an onion bun, all for a hefty 60 bucks.

I ended up going with a Black Angus patty, topped with jalapeño bacon, avocado, caramelized onions and pepper jack cheese on a sesame bun, with a side of zucchini fries. I definitely like it when a burger place serves big, thick beef patties…like a half-inch or so, making it possible to have a nice, pink, medium-rare center. I feel like most patties sold these days are simply too thin for this, and thus, can only come well done. Anyway, the portions at this place are pretty generous…this was a big burger. I can’t really describe the flavor as anything other than…beefy, but the texture and execution were great. Nice and moist, with a bright pinkish center.

The jalapeño bacon, which they apparently soak in jalapeño brine, was a little disappointing. It didn’t really have the fatty bacon flavor I was hoping for…dulled bacon flavor at first, followed by a spicy kick. As if combining the two flavors had resulted in a milder version of both. I wasn’t too happy with the avocado portioning either. They gave me a quarter of an avocado…not cut into slices, just an awkwardly shaped quarter that didn’t really sit too well on the burger, and kept on sliding off. The zucchini fries were good for about the first two minutes, after which they started getting a bit soggy, as is their tendency. All-in-all, it was a well executed burger, with only mediocre flavor. The problem with these build your own burger places though, is that a bland burger can be the fault of your decision-making. Maybe I just didn’t pick the right components.

The meal continued with a chocolate burger, one of Burger Bar’s dessert burgers. A halved donut holds chocolate ganache, sliced strawberries, mint leaves, and passion fruit, with each part meant to imitate bun, patty, tomatoes, lettuce, and cheese, respectively, in a savory burger. This may have been my favorite part of the meal. The fruit really lifted the flavor, while the mint leaves really added a light, fresh zing, so as to counter the heaviness of the donut and chocolate. Short and sweet and not too heavy.

All-in-all, I wasn’t totally impressed with Burger Bar. While the burger was cooked right, most of the components lacked the flavor to make it an exceptional burger. Add in an environment that can’t decide whether it’s a decked out sports bar or a friendly neighborhood pub, and one walks away a bit confused, and not exactly content. Especially for 17 bucks. Then again, it could be all in how you choose your parts. I get the feeling this place has more to offer than what we had on our one trip here. And in the end, it’s difficult to judge a place with such variety on just a small sample of its ingredients. I’d be willing to return to mix n’ match. Throw in a couple pints (or more) of the pretty extensive beer selection, and maybe my opinion will improve.

Burger Bar
Mandalay Bay Hotel & Casino
3930 Las Vegas Blvd.
Las Vegas, NV 89109
702-632-9364
Make sure to keep an eye out for Robert Horry. Robert frickin’ Horry.

Oh, and I write too much.

In recent years, Las Vegas has quickly earned the reputation of America’s culinary Gomorrah. Gone are the days of two buck buffets, as more and more tourists come not only to play, but indeed, to eat. Starting with Wolfgang Puck’s opening of a Spago at Caesar’s Palace, big name chefs have begun marketing on the Strip, rolling out copies of their restaurants from across the world. To name a few, Guy Savoy, Daniel Boulud, Eric Ripert, Bradley Ogden, Hubert Keller, Joel Robuchon, Tom Colicchio, Charlie Palmer, Mario Batali, Bobby Flay, and of course, the venerable Thomas Keller of French Laundry fame. So, as committed, responsible foodies, we ventured into this culinary wonderland with great hopes, empty stomachs and soon-to-be empty wallets. First stop, Thomas Keller’s Bouchon.

When I first walked into Bouchon, I was struck by how bright and welcoming it was. As you walk in you can clearly see the oyster bar set up, with the day’s fresh offerings laid out, all illuminated through tall windows lining one side of the restaurant. I’ve never been to France, nor am I terribly familiar with French cuisine, but the place sorta felt like what I conceived a French bistro to look like. Of course, the whole idea behind bistro fare is simple, unpretentious food, and I felt like the Bouchon interior captured that feel pretty well. Checkered tile flooring, deep colored wooden walls, a long bar lining one side of the room, bright white tablecloths, immaculate, labeled dishware and a high ceiling, the place definitely connoted an air of professionalism and crispness, while still being down-to-earth and welcoming. Our server emulated this same spirit, courteously helping us through the menu and recommending us accompanying wines from the extensive wine list.

Unfortunately, much of the other interior details were lost on me, simply because I was both damn hungry and damn excited for the food. Bouchon Las Vegas, of course, is a copy of Keller’s Bouchon in Yountville, CA. I wasn’t naive enough to think that Keller would actually be in the back of the house, but I was curious to see if Keller’s notoriously high standards carried on even in his absence. Judging by our experience, Keller has trained his staff well. The meal began with simple bread and jam. The bread was fairly standard, but the jam tasted like it had been made there. The flavors struck me as far more natural, without the usual sugary-syrupy taste that most commercial jams have. It was a simple, sweet way to start the meal.

Maybe cause it was Vegas, maybe cause I was with the guys, maybe cause it was my first time trying any of Keller’s menus, or maybe it was the wine, but I sorta went nuts and splurged. The meal continued with a half-dozen raw oysters from the oyster bar, served with a trio of sauces. I was definitely glad to have had oysters before, simply as a basis for comparison. One can’t tell good food from great, if he hasn’t had good first. Hokey philosophy aside, I slurped up the first oyster and was immediately struck by how amazingly fresh it tasted. Indeed, a chef’s cooking is only as good as the quality of his products. And especially with raw oysters, where you don’t do anything but shuck it, primo quality counts. The flavor was vibrant and alive, readily evoking tastes and thoughts of the sea. I can only clumsily describe it as “ocean purity.” (Sounds like a perfume, no?) Definitely one of the highlights of the meal.

I’ve often thought that the skill of a cook is powerfully displayed not only in elaborate, multi-flavored works of art, but also in how he executes the simplest dishes. Andre Soltner, when interviewing cooks applying to work for him, would sometimes give them a single test:

“Make me an omelet.”

While the humble omelet appears deceptively simple, the methods behind making a perfect one require finesse, experience, and thoughtfulness. It takes a lot of skill to make simple food, perfectly. And indeed, that simplicity is often the beauty behind good food. Sorta like how I judge boba places on the quality of their basic milk tea. With that in mind, I decided to go with a bistro classic, Steak Frites. (Steak and fries) served with maitre d’hotel butter. (Butter mixed with various seasonings and parsley) A simple meat n’ potatoes dish.

The steak, a flat-iron cut, was well-cooked and hearty. The flavor wasn’t as full as I would’ve liked. (not as fatty?) but the tenderness was great. The maitre d’hotel butter rounded out the flavor nicely. And of course, how can you go wrong piling on fries? Damn good fries. Crispy like they oughta be, not one of them was soggy. All-in-all it was a honest, well-executed dish.

Jon went with a croque madame, another bistro staple. A toasted ham and cheese sandwich, covered with mornay sauce (a basic white sauce with added cheese) and topped with a fried egg. Man, I frickin’ love fried eggs, especially with runny yolks.

One of our other mates had the day’s special, seared scallops. I don’t quite remember what exactly was in it, but simply, that it was damn good. I do remember biting into that scallop evoked much of the same thoughts as the oyster. The flavor was very pure, and tasted of the sea. The crust on the scallop was a perfect sear, providing the necessary texture contrast from a crispy outside to a tender, supple interior. Once again, good quality products served with good execution.

But the fun doesn’t stop there, kids. Of course, we opt for some dessert. Our server told us about a special off-the-menu dessert, aptly named, “Bouchon.” One of the meanings behind the term “Bouchon” refers to the stopper jammed into the mouth of a bottle. Or simply, a cork. The plate came out with three such corks of chocolate, served over a chocolate sauce, partnered with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I’m generally a fruit dessert kind of guy, most dairy/chocolate based desserts are just too rich and heavy for me. As such, I was pleasantly surprised by this dish. The three chocolate…bouchons (bouchones? bouchii?) basically tasted like brownies, retaining a rich chocolate depth, but without the fudgy heaviness. Did I just have a light chocolate dish? What the hell. Paired with the ice cream, it was a tight, nice way to end the meal. And I didn’t feel like I had just downed a quart of heavy cream. The profiteroles we ordered (mini cream puffs filled with ice cream) likewise weren’t too heavy, and were pretty tasty.

For all the hype that comes with eating at a top-name chef’s place, I left Bouchon feeling thoroughly full, but more importantly, content. Not in slack-jawed awe, not in euphoria, but content. The food wasn’t transcendental, just simple, honest, high-quality food, executed well and served without pretension. And perhaps, that’s exactly what Keller was going for with Bouchon. After all, the bistro is meant for the everyday, down-to-earth diner, and to that end, I think it was a success, though my wallet may think otherwise. But honestly, why would you spend your money on anything else?

Bouchon
The Venetian, Venezia Tower
3355 Las Vegas Blvd. South, Suite 10101
Las Vegas, NV 89109
702-414-6200
Make sure to check out the outdoor patio, and then walk off that food coma at the Canal shops downstairs.