I’m always down for a pleasant surprise.  Take Joe Vicari’s ANDIAMO Italian Steakhouse – a great, romantic, “date-night” spot that has opened in a rather unlikely locale.  To wit, if you’d told me a couple of years ago, that one of my new fave dinner spots would not just be in Downtown Las Vegas, but on the second floor of Fitgerald’s – I’d have looked at you with an expression of haughty derision.

But a couple of years back, a funny thing happened on the way to obsolescence.  The Brothers Stevens (Derek and Greg – majority owners of Las Vegas’ longest standing casino, the recently refurbished Golden Gate) decided to buy Fitzgerald’s and reopen it (after a $15 million overhaul) as the D Las Vegas Casino Hotel – with the “D” standing for “Downtown” (although others have attributed it to Derek’s nickname, and the brothers’ hometown of Detroit).

And with that Detroit connection, the stage was set for a 22-year veteran of Detroit’s fine dining scene, restaurateur Joe Vicari, to come in to The D, and set-up shop; and thus, Joe Vicari’s ANDIAMO Italian Steakhouse at The D.

After traversing the Casino floor, and riding the escalators to the second floor, we found ourselves passing The D’s “Vintage Vegas” casino and then, BOOM!  A long, dimly-lit, mahogany-floored, brick-lined passageway, beckoned to us.  As our eyes adjusted, we were greeted warmly, and immediately shown to our booth.  And what a booth!  With the high leather backs surrounding roughly 80% of each round table, as well as a raised dome over each booth, you are plunged into the proverbial ‘cone of silence’ that not only keeps the noise of the hoi polloi out, but keeps your not-so-whispered sweet nothings privy only to those seated with you.  We actually tested this out, and found that even with me standing less than two feet from the table Jacob had to virtually shout for me to hear him.

And lest you think I’ve forgotten that service and ambiance only get you so far (although, they have the ability to turn a good meal great or make the same meal a boor), the food was marvelous.  Everything.  For reals.

We started with the Carpaccio of Beef Tenderloin (topped with an arugula salad, herbed mustard vinaigrette, and Parmigiano-Reggiano), the Andiamo Grande Meatball (handmade, in tomato sauce, and topped with ricotta cheese), and the Caesar Salad for Two – prepared tableside (hearts of Romaine, in a dressing of anchovy, egg, garlic, lemon, olive oil, and Reggiano, topped with bacon and croutons).  The Carpaccio was perfection.  It was sliced ideally, the herbed mustard mixing in, just so; and the arugula and Parmigiano-Reggiano acting as a one-two punch of tart and rich.  The Andiamo Grande Meatball was exactly what you would hope for in a ginormous meatball.  And the Caesar was made rather unique by our table-captain’s precise structural placement of the long hearts of romaine with the applewood smoked bacon making it zesty.

We then split an order of the Pappardelle with Veal Ragu (a hearty veal stew, with battuto, tomatoes, Porcini mushrooms, white wine, handmade pasta, and Asiago cheese).  This was so good, in fact, that I’ve been having somewhat embarrassing dreams about it, ever since.  The only downside was that I created such a mess that after clearing our plates, our table-captain, Carl, was forced to place a clean napkin over the linen tablecloth, where my plate had been.

As entrées, Jacob ordered the Cold Water Scottish Salmon (charbroiled fillet, topped with caramelized fennel, and tomato); whilst I ordered the Pat LaFrieda Burger (half-pound of House-blend, topped with six strips of crispy bacon, on a challah bun, with truffle mayonnaise, and shoestring fries).  The Salmon (according to Jacob) was firm, flavorful, and not at all flakey.  As for me, you might be wondering why I ordered a burger at such a swanky joint.  Well, many moons ago, when I lived in New York’s Greenwich Village, my roommate and I would walk home from late nights spent at Jackie 60 or Florent, through the Meatpacking District, past the tranny-hookers working the stroll, under the sign at Pat LaFrieda Wholesale Meats, where a chicken is clucking “Pat LaFrieda Says Eat My Meat!”  The irony was just delicious.  I hadn’t thought about that sign in years, and upon seeing this on the menu, I fell-out laughing.  Then I ordered the burger.

Boy, am I glad I did.  It was succulent and juicy; tender, without falling apart.  The bacon was thick and well-done without being crumbly (because really, there’s nothing less appetizing than flaccid pig-parts).  The veggies were moist and crisp.  The challah bun was perfect for soaking the juices.  And the truffle mayonnaise was what my poker peeps would refer to as “the nuts.”  All told, one heckuva great burger, and a lesson, that Pat LaFrieda’s meat is worth all that clucking.

The desserts were pretty fantastic, too – a rich, creamy New York-style Cheesecake topping a crunchy and buttery graham cracker crust and topped by plump berries; a tasty Bread Pudding; and this thing called the Kit Kat, that I never got to taste, but Jacob has assured me was worth my getting desert-blocked.

As our meal ended, my only regret was that there wasn’t a bellman nearby, to wheel us back to Valet. 

Joe Vicari’s ANDIAMO Italian Steakhouse
The D Las Vegas
Downtown Las Vegas
Click HERE for info

Get into it!

[Editor’s Note: Since dining there, earlier this week, Jacob has already gone back, with one of his besties; and had another terrific meal.   Now that’s saying a mouthful!]