Fleur de Lys

I had about my fill of haute cuisine lately, spending hordes of money and receiving just an OK experience in return. Yet, Las Vegas has so many good places to eat, it's hard to relegate myself to a buffet when I know all the options. This was a spur of the moment trip, where I figured the dinner would be an afterthought.



I had no special plans to scout out a good restaurant, check out the hot chef, or write an article about anything I did that wouldn't incriminate me. The problem is, it's hard to ignore the wealth of offerings in LV's culinary menagerie. Many people still deride Vegas as a shallow bastion offering poorly replicated apparitions of the original restaurant. Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill, Emeril's Delmonico, Commander's Palace, The Border Grill, ad infinitum.



This is a valid observation, but just because they are replicants of the real thing, are they any worse? In terms of purity, I could see where a person would feel like they are eating in the wax museum equivalent of the masterpiece that put the chef on the map. The chef that will not be cooking in this Vegas outlet. The chef that will not be there to assure day to day quality and consistency of his or her product.

There will always be a snobbish confederacy of people who have the privilege of eating at the original, and then at the one in Vegas, and can actually compare the quality of the two. Invariably they will conclude the original is better, and I couldn't argue with that reasoning. But that doesn't make the replicant bad per se, it just means it is not an exact copy of what made the original distinctive.

Which brings me to Fleur de Lys in Mandalay Bay. Consistently spoken of in high regard, I landed on this option through Opentable.com. At once a casual online scouting expedition for Saturday night regalia and a curious investigation of what was new and hot in Vegas, I was drawn to several editorial and user reviews of Fleur de Lys. All of them positive.

Chef Keller (Hubert, not Thomas) has recreated his San Francisco restaurant with the help of interior designer Stanlee Gatti. In contrast to other replicants, he did not xerox his menu from SF and bring it over to Mandalay Bay. He opted to bring a new variety of flavors, and present new preparations of French food in a modern space.



Fleur de Lys occupies the space previously home to Shanghai Lily. The space itself has a club feel, punctuated by a dj mixing electronica and light hophop throughout the whole restaurant. Orange lighting in the bar area is provided by Himalayan salt crystals, similar to the salt lamps sold in cart kiosks at the mall. In this setting, though, they looked cool.

We were sat promptly and were pleasantly relived to see a fun, casual environment that was upscale, but didn't take itself as seriously as The Mansion. No jackets required and even a few designer jeans. Bonus point number one.

Our white chocolate martinis arrived, garnished with a strawberry. I know, it's not really a martini just because they put a girl-drink in a martini glass, but I played along. The maitre d' was friendly, the staff was attentive, and the bartenders were hot, and wearing sexy leather Xena bustier. Don't know if that was supposed to be part of the atmosphere, but it worked for me.

[ed note: my apologies for the saturated look and poor quality of the pictures, the lighting was very low, and the pictures have to be taken with no flash]



The prices were reasonable for the three pre fix meals offered. Three course for $74, four course for $82 and five course for $94. Its almost a no-brainer, just like buying gas. Overall, for an extra $20 per person, you get two additional courses, like super unleaded. It was also done a la carte. You pay for five courses, but you get to choose what you want from the appetizer, fish, meat and dessert selections. We opted for the five course, which includes a cheese course, of course.

Yeah, well, there was this other cozy little offering, but I'm saving my money for a new house:



The amuse bouche arrived before the bread guy did. It was an ovid of salmon tartar in cradled in a bath of fennel cream sauce. It was fresh and delicious. The salmon was chopped fine, but there were some nice chunks that gave it body and texture. It paired perfectly with the cream. Nice beginning.



There were only two bread choices, a pillow of whole wheat bun and ciabatta.



I preferred the ciabatta, with a chewy interior that had well distributed air pockets. The whole wheat bun did taste a bit earthy.



The first course arrived, and it a complex and artful dish. I had the quail breast topped with foie gras and tart salad. It was accompanied by a quail egg resting on a pistachio custard and flanking the other side was a mushroom compote cleaved by a thin flag of dried procuitto. They were even nice enough to roast the little quail legs, and I dispensed with etiquette and ate the meat right off the bone. I know I shouldn't, but logistically it is impossible to cut the meat off without the aid of a laser saw.



She had a bowl of lump crabmeat in a bath of melon gazpacho and cantaloupe. It paired very nicely, although it slightly overpowered the crab.



Between courses I admired the atmosphere: very relaxing, chic and unpretentious. Simple curtains stretched to the vaulted ceilings, which contrasted to the stacked-stone look of the walls. High up in one corner was the latest trend in Vegas: the exposed wine cellar...or attic. Partitioned by glass, it gave the viewer a bare glimpse of the treasures inside, and of the people eating at the exclusive table positioned between the wine and glass wall. Did they realize people were watching them like they were gawking at a salt water aquarium?



Before I could answer that question, the second course arrived. We both ordered the lobster on a bed of pureed carrots surrounded by a moat of mint infused oil and curry orange sauce. I liked this dish, but two things struck me. First, the pureed carrots reminded me too much of Gerbers, and I've heard that some chefs are actually using Gerbers because of the purity of the puree. It tasted fine, though.

Second, the lobster tail didn't have that distinctive Maine lobster sweetness. No big deal, it tasted just fine, but there was a tiny room for improvement. At this moment I realized something: I was getting a tad full.

That's unusual with haute. Usually portions are small because you have to chew your way through five or more courses, plus palate cleanser, plus bread, amuse bouche, petit fours. At the Mansion, we left downright hungry, and that is a sin. At Fleur de Lys each portion was a meal in and of itself.



Speaking of meal, our entree course arrived. She had the beef tenderloin with oxtail tortellini and a cylinder of potato gratin. The tenderloin was...eh, tenderloin. I'm not dissing this dish, it had great flavors and was seasoned perfectly, but as any meat conneseur knows, tenderloin is expensive, tender and flavorless. So, for what it was it was very good, but I would choose steak tartare over rare tenderloin 100% of the time. The potatoes were cheesy and al dente. It was a nice accompaniment to draw the flavor out of the tenderloin. The tortellini were little pockets of flavor, not even requiring sauce for enhancement.



I got the veal two ways. One was a center cut veal tenderloin (which makes me a hypocrite, I know) and the other was braised veal cheek. The veal cheek was the highlight of the entire meal. Tender, packed with intense flavor, this stood out above all the other items. Contrasted to that, the tenderloin occupied the same pedestal as the beef tenderloin. It was juicy and tender, but it had no distinct flavor. In fact, veal has less flavor than it's full grown counterpart.

To my derision, and with three impending courses marching down the line, I was really getting full. I would have to force my way through the rest of the meal.



I didn't have long to wait, as the cheese plate came out next. The plate was a heavy marble slab, crowned with four cheeses. Unfortunately, he fired off the cheeses before I had a chance to assimilate the information. There was a spoonful of nuts and dried fruit, a creamy cow's milk, a creamy sheep milk, a sharp blue cheese and an aged cow cheese. To the other side was a small grape salad. It was accompanied by fig bread.

It was all great and lovely, each cheese was distinct with a different level of sharpness and nuttiness, and the fruit was balanced and a perfect pairing. But, I was really struggling to polish it off. This was turning into competitive eating. I'm not complaining in the least. I was thoroughly happy to know I was being stuffed for my money.



After a welcome delay, I had one last difficult choice to make: dessert. I was effectively, done, I would not finish this course. I ordered the pina colada ice cream tower with caramelized bananas in a cup of banana cream tarte. It tasted spectacular, with fantastically fresh pineapple and banana flavors competing for my attention. But I couldnÂ' take more than a few bites.



She ordered the Gran marnier soufflee, which we both picked through. It was sweet, balanced, fruity and had a vanilla cream soaked through it. It was accompanied by a canella of orange-cardamom ice cream. Perfect, but each bite was like a lead weight. I was starting to sweat.



Wow! What a fantastic meal, I am giving Fleur de Lys an absolute endorsement. Even the petit fours were enticing enough to nibble through. Now when I evaluate Fleur I can say it was worth the money and then some. I am writing this 4:30pm the next day and I still haven't eaten, nor am I feeling the least bit peckish.

Ok, I'm not evaluating Hometown Buffet, the point wasn't to get overstuffed, but I commend the executive chef for deliberately taking a conscious decision to not scale back the portion size. Nor did they for artistry or flavors. Each plate was meticulously assembled, and presented in a gracefully choreographed ballet of plate delivery.

I've have had a string of relatively mediocre experiences with Las Vegas dining recently. This year hasn't presented the greatest offerings, despite the reputations of the chefs and restaurants. Hopefully this is a turning point for the next several trips. As a side note, we also had a good meal at a tapas restaurant, so we're batting a thousand.

Does that help the debate of the quality of celebrity chefs and replicant restaurants in Las Vegas? Yes, it does. It means that each endeavor should be judged on its own merits, and it is partially the fault of the consumer for making such comparisons.

Yes, celebrity chefs and restaurant management companies are co-opting the good name of the original establishment to generate interest, but only a fool would ever think it can exactly replicate the feel and taste of the original. That can only be achieved by cookie cutter, factory processed fast food, not haute cuisine.