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Nevada Nick's


Resort at Summerlin

221 N. Rampart


It's not that I don't like Nevada Nick's, it's just that I don't know whether I like it or not. For those of you who haven't been to the Resort at Summerlin, Nevada Nick's is the way cool, Jordan Mosher-designed steakhouse anchoring the far end of restaurant row. Now Vegas needs another steakhouse like it needs another topless bar, uh excuse me, I think they're now referred to as gentlemen's clubs, although you'd be hard pressed to find many gentlemen in any of them. These "clubs", like steakhouses, now proliferate like lemmings on our landscape. This is either a good thing or a pox on the soul of the digestive tract. There are even some people (I can't imagine how) who say the same thing about topless bars and their effect on the soul of a community, but let's face it, both of these hard to swallow phenomena must feed some need, but neither is exactly good for you. Most are here to stay, and, if you patronize either, you might as well have some good visuals to go with the bad taste, but enough about me, Nevada Nick's gets the décor award with its funky and fun take on steak, western and Nevada metaphors, right down to the over-sized silver bones which frame the room. All that's missing is consistency because, as I said, I've had some great and not-so-great meals here. But the bottom line is that Nevada Nick's certainly competes with, if not trumps, the steakhouse competition, and if you order right, like the smoky cowboy rib eye or the succulent and spicy duck, you won't go away hungry or disappointed. You will regret the long haul to the north forty however, an interminable walk that takes you on yet another depressing casino stroll, but your udder disappointment won't be with the steer meat and if Nick Nicholas (the owner) is around, you just might get the breast of everything.

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This is John Curtas.

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