Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Meals to Please the Entire Family
You're in Vegas, the kids are cranky because they've had to hold your hand
in the casino (“Mom, I just want to try and push some of those blinking
buttons, what's the big deal!!”), and you've been trudging around for so
many hours trying to find your car in the parking garage that a meltdown
seems inevitable. I can't guarantee that the following restaurants will be
the panacea for the smoke, noise, and visual overload that can turn even
the most even-tempered of kids into Veruca Salt, but they should please
the palates . . . and imaginations . . . of even the pickiest little eaters.
The Buffet at Treasure Island (p. 84):
I have one word for you: cotton
candy. Most kids really like the shopping aspect of buffet eating, but I
think they'll really groove on TI's because it goes overboard with the sweet
stuff: freshly made donuts, mounds of cookies, fresh fruits dipped in
chocolate (hey, you got some fruit into 'em!), cakes, ice cream, and those
pink puffs of threaded sugar I mentioned earlier.
Burger Bar (p. 73):
A creative dinner, in that you get to take a basic
burger and play dress up with it, loading it with everything from cheese
to three types of bacon to wacky sauces. Or you can just have the plain
burger, which might be most kids' choice. But they'll enjoy helping you
build yours. Did I mention that the ice cream shakes here are primo?
Cypress Street Marketplace (p. 77):
A food court in Caesars Palace but
with higher quality grub than the norm, and lots of the simple American
stuff (pizza, burgers, hot dogs) that kids will dig. Take them afterwards to
the hourly free talking statues show (p. 125). You may wince, but they'll
smile.
$$-$$$
Also located in the Mandalay Bay complex is the unimaginatively
named
Noodle Shop
(in Mandalay Bay Resort;
%
702/632-7777; www.mandalay
bay.com; Sun-Thurs 11am-midnight, Fri-Sat 11am-3am; AE, DISC, MC, V),
with a
setting just as dull—in fact, there's nothing Asian about it beyond bright red
chairs, and it's difficult to figure out where this restaurant ends and the casino's
coffee shop begins (I wandered back from the bathroom into the wrong one last
time I was here). But so what if you're sitting cheek to cheek with fake shrubbery
or perched on the odd and uncomfortable stools at the lunch counter area—no,
on second thought, don't accept a seat at the counter (seats here are very uncom-
fortable)—you'll be eating surprisingly authentic Mandarin and Cantonese food,
cooked by a Chinese chef and served by a knowledgeable, gracious Asian staff.
Along with the usual suspects, adventurous eaters can try the house special beef
tripe and tendons ($8.50), which is flavorful if chewy; or chilled pork knuckles
with jellyfish ($17). If those two take more courage than you can muster, there's
a wide variety of entrée-sized noodle soups ($11-$15) as well as a worthwhile
