Dinner on Us does more than feed the homeless. It pampers them with feasts that celebrate international cuisine — and nourish the spirit Juicy, tender roast ham.

Secreto Iberico at Jaleo I didn’t know pigs had skirt steak on them. Leave it to the innovative mind of José Andrés to re-invent pork.

Oscar Goodman once glibly proposed imploding the Union Plaza to pave a better prospect to what would later become Symphony Park. Today, the former mayor’s name is stamped on a restaurant in the resort that’s now slicking and primping for maximum swank in the New Downtown.

Take the plunge — and rediscover the lake you thought you knew Psst. Here’s a secret: You’re missing out on Lake Mead.

From mild to wild, here are nine trips to ‘wet’ your appetite for adventure, relaxation and family fun A (worthwhile) trek to Eden in the desert Baker Lake, Nevada Get wet: If you’re looking to evade not only heat, but also neighbors and civilization in general, get out a Nevada map and circle Great Basin National Park, 286 miles from Las Vegas, near the Utah border. The 77,100-acre park is often overlooked because of its distance, but Great Basin offers something many nearer parks don’t: water.

Kazi Aziz has the rumpled, scholarly look of someone who spends more time among dusty books than kitchen appliances and utensils. Ah, but first impressions can be slippery.

Leave Great Basin in the dark Here’s a bright idea: Turn off the lights and look up. Unfortunately, light pollution is a growing problem in the United States, so you may not see much.

Two dishes duke it out. DW Bistro’s Jerk Fried Chicken and Waffles, meet Hash House A Go Go’s sage fried rendition.

Bon Breads’ master baker Carlos Pereira gives Vegas the best thing since, well, sliced bread Carlos Pereira is poking a baton of raw dough, brows furrowed. This is his umpteenth attempt at perfecting the French baguette, but with a single motion of his forefinger, he can detect a problem.

I was later told it looked like I was doing some sort of bizarre, avant-garde dance: Whipping and whirling and hands flapping wildly as my legs bent at completely unnatural angles, scrobbling and pedaling cartoonlike for purchase on the water-slicked rocks. We were hiking up Boy Scout Canyon — just one stop on our daylong kayaking trip down Black Canyon — and I’d clearly met my nemesis in the form of this rocky keyhole waterfall.