A couple of months ago, while the snow fell all around Britain, I went off on a small but very gluttonous tour of Las Vegas, which I've waffled on about over here. A glitz fest in the middle of the desert is entirely the last place that a sea loving, unglamorous type like myself would normally find herself (we were encouraged to wear upscale fashionable attire at points. Any ideas?).
But to my surprise, I had rather a good time. On account of the eating - the replica Eiffel Tower and exploding plastic volcanoes still don't do anything for me. The eating, however, was very good. Mind you, skulking around the likes of Robuchon, Keller's Bouchon and Guy Savoy, it was unlikely to be anything else, and I admit we didn't exactly have the typical Vegas dining experience (or perhaps we did?).
I was keen to get out and about a bit and try the other end of the dining scale (no, really, I was) but when I say whirlwind tour, it really was, and time did not allow. In preparation, I had asked the two greediest men I know where to seek out something a bit less Michelin and was advised by belly number one, Jay Rayner to visit a crumbling strip joint to try Lotus of Siam, which does sound bloody good (I think you can probably read more about that in some book he's punting), while mouth number two, Simon Majumdar, recommended Rosemary's. I didn't make either and it's been haunting me ever since, as they both look well worth the effort.
On the car to the airport, there was one final opportunity to eat and I couldn't do it, I couldn't squeeze any more in. What can I say? I failed miserably. My colleague and food writer, Emma Sturgess, ever the professional, stood up to the challenge, consuming an In-N-Out burger in the final minutes of pre-airplane time.
As soon as I was back behind the desk, I noticed people commenting on Tim Hayward's (let's call him belcher number three) gourmet burger post about the In-N-Out Burger, and how it's the best burger in the world (buns made from slow rise sponge dough, people). All compounding my misery.
So go on, make me weep at this hungry hour of the day; what else did I miss out on from being such a flipping lightweight culinary woose?
