Tapas Grudge Match

[Ed note: The crappy pictures from BaBa Reeba were taken by a cell phone camera because the idiot who wrote this left the camera in the car.]

In this corner, adorned with red poofy pantalones, is Ba Ba Reeba. [cheer]

And in this corner, wearing a red and gold glitter mask with a blue star over one eye, and a disquieting set of what looks to be periwinkle leotards, is Bar Celona. [cheer]
[bottle is hurled]

You are to be witness to a brutal, bare knuckled street brawl between two neophyte contendors in the ultra-contentious tapas scene. This is a notoriously unforgiving arena in which the heightened sense of Fu stands unified with the shrieking fury of it's doppelganger, Fu. They are goverened by the chaotic and fashionable houses of Shi and Shi.

Identified as the Hot Expensive Miniscule Food by Guitar Player magazine, look for Tapas Garage in a city near you in the not too distant future. In the meantime, however, trendy tapas bars are popping up faster than meth labs in the San Joaquin Valley.

Ba Ba Reeba, with it's sheep inspired varsity cheer of a name, is on the corner of the completely remodeled Fashion Mall in Las Vegas. It is a perfect addition to the matte nickel finish of the newly envigorated mall, which was floundering in recent years.

With a bridge giving direct access to the Wynn, it is a bustling new retail center, and a nice diversion from hours of zombified dice chucking. At least here you will get something in return for your money.



Ba Ba Reeba struck a hard first slam to the matt and scissor kick to neck with a cheese and meat platter, with some stunningly sharp tastes offset will mellower salty notes of thinly sliced meat. It came accompanied with two tomato puree soaked slices of toast. Why am I being so vague? We ate there three weeks ago. Meat and cheese is about all you're going to get out of my pathetic memory. I'm sure there was manchego.



OOOOOH, but Bar Celona fires back with a roundhouse kick to the teeth with a pureed gaspacho glimmering with bright and fresh spring notes. Tiny cubes of cucumber make a nice textural jumble on the tongue.

Ba Ba pickes herself up off the mat and swings two meaty forearms into Bar, clotheslining the poor bastard to the mat with anchovies and peppers resting on a bed of avocado puree.



Not for everyone, this dish had a nice biting vinegar taste mellowed by the avocado puree (known here in the US as guacamole). The anchovies were solid to the bite and also came accompanied with some pickled garlic. Pungent and sharp, it woke me up.



Oh NO! Bar Celona picked up a chair and fustigated Ba Ba on the skull. I can't watch anymore of this carnage as Bar Celona rolls out the mixed tapas platter, rich, garlicky shrimp, flaky beef empanada, sauteed mushrooms, and a dense frittata.



My favorite was the empanada, which had a delicately layered crust as opposed to most empanadas which imprison the contents behind a dense barrier of crust.

Amid this coronation of the empanada, one contendor seeks to dethrone the reigning champion with a sucker punch to the kidneys. Baba counters with its empanada.



Filling and buttery, it comes up a little shy against the onslaught of Bar Celona's empanada, but it is a worthy contendor. In this case, however, Bar Celona defends herself with honor, and attacks with her own table-leg clothesline that decapitates Ba Ba Reeba.

Both signal the resurgence of the tapas phenomena, as restauranteurs discover they can rook the public by charging exorbitant prices for tiny portions. I love tapas, and am willing to pay the vig for a variety of flavors in one sitting.