Eating Las Vegas: B&B Ristorante

Posted by Dana McMahan on March 9, 2008

Eating three dinners in Las Vegas while there for work last week left me feeling a bit like Goldilocks looking for just the right combination of food and service. On our second night, Mario Batali’s B&B Ristorante hit the mark for food (mostly) but fell far short of expectations on service.

I didn’t know much about Batali until reading Bill Buford’s Heat, in which the writer cooks and trains his way into the heart of Batali’s little empire. A fascinating book, Heat left with me an appreciation for Batali’s training, and curious to sample his food.

B&B Ristorante, located in the Venetian a few minutes’ walk from our hotel, seemed a great chance to sample some authentic Italian food and see what all the fuss is about the red-haired Crocs-wearing chef.

I was immediately put off by our table, situated right next to the waiter’s station, but examined the menu, which was presented in Italian three-course style, carefully. My budget — and the capacity of my stomach — would prevent me from ordering all three courses so I wanted to choose wisely.

My colleague asked our waiter whether it’s expected to order all three courses. “Well, uh, that’s the way it’s set up,” he replied, none too friendly. “I mean, that’s how most people do it, they order the antipasti, the primi and the secondi.”

I thought (with some irritation) about all the meals I’ve had in Italy — none of which were all three courses, and assured my dining partners that it’s certainly not expected in Italy so there’s no reason to feel obligated in Las Vegas.

The waiter disappeared, then returned with some chickpeas on toasted bread in olive oil, “compliments of the chef.” They were delicious! While I love hummus, I don’t usually like chickpeas on their own. These were so good I asked one of the assistant waiters for extra bread to finish of the little goodies left over. He promised to bring more bread but a few moments later someone else arrived to sweep up the dish, resulting in an awkward exchange about the bread. Happily, it resulted in another dish of the snack.

I settled on Goat Cheese Tortelloni with Dried Orange and Fennel Dust, and asked the waiter about one of the contorni (side dishes) — Sunchokes alla Romana. “What makes them Roman style?” I inquired. “Umm, the seasoning,” he answered. I bit back a snarky comment and asked for specifics. “Basically a lot of salt,” he replied this time. Whatever, I ordered the sunchokes, curious about this dish I had never tasted.

My pasta did not disappoint. The orange overwhelmed any fennel flavor, but they were generous with the goat cheese filling in the pillowy pasta. If you find you must eat in this restaurant, you can’t go wrong with this dish.

The sunchokes on the other hand were in fact salty, and quite peppery, with the added bonus of grit — evidently they didn’t wash them very thoroughly. I didn’t even bother to tell our inept waiter on the one single visit he made after our food arrived, and no staff commented when I left nearly a full plate uneaten.

Without being asked, the waiter brought the bill (guess they decided not to go so far in their authenticity as to make as ask for it), which was all together. We asked him to divide it, which clearly annoyed him. He requested our credit cards (I was paying in cash, so without seeing a bill, I calculated the total in my head). He returned the credit cards but no change and no receipts. Though I had intended the change as a tip, he should never have assumed that.

Overall, the good pasta course, which could be had at any number of other restaurants in Vegas, did not make up for the dismal service. Mario, if you’re listening, have a good talk with your staff about service. And clean the sunchokes next time.

As for me, next time I’ll have the goat cheese tortelloni at home and save some annoyance. Here’s the recipe from the Food Network.

TAGS: Las Vegas, Mario Batali, Sunchokes
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