EDITOR'S NOTE:  Upon hearing of the passing of Sirio Maccioni—one of the most significant, memorable, and respected restaurateurs of all time, and among the most charming individuals I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet (I cannot recall ever having seen him without a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye)—I remembered that my very first “Diva Las Vegas” column for VEGAS had been about Sirio and the release of his memoirs. I was able to find a PDF of the column, from the July 2004 issue (which means I wrote it in April, so the following went down 16 years ago, almost to the day), and laughed my ass off, re-reading it and looking at the photos I’d taken, that afternoon.  So, here it is: A snarky, obnoxious (and at times downright bitchy) time capsule from what seems like another lifetime; that makes me smile while reminiscing about my friend, Sirio.  Enjoy!

Recently, I went to an event—in the daytime, no less—which restored my faith in the social promise of this fair city.  It was a luncheon honoring America’s most celebrated restaurateur of the late 20th century, Sirio Maccioni, and the release of his memoirs (co-authored by debonair Bloomberg critic and host Peter Elliot), Sirio: The Story of My Life and Le Cirque. The book, excerpts from which ran in the April issue of Vanity Fair, is filled with the story of a man and his family, a family that grew to include a restaurant known the world over for its delectable cuisine and top-drawer scene.

Signor Maccioni could well be one of the most affable men of our time. Actually, I’m quite certain had fate taken him down another path—one that never included his beloved family: wife and soul mate Egidiana, their three handsome sons, Mario, Marco, and Mauro, Mario’s fabulous wife, Lauren, and the couple’s precocious daughter, Olivia, and dazzling twin sons, Luca and Nicolas—one could well picture him living a life similar to that played by Michael Caine in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels: living on the French Riviera and conning pretty heiresses out of their jewels (and into his bed) with nary a wink, but a smile and some well-spoken words in his singsong Tuscan accent.

Luckily for us (and the imaginary heiresses), fate didn’t have that in store for Sirio. It has been most unlucky, however, for the hundreds of thousands of truffles that continue to fall victim to his kitchens in New York, Las Vegas and, most recently, Mexico City. Have you ever gone to Le Cirque and just ordered the seemingly innocuous breast of chicken? It’s un-fucking-believable! That’s because it’s prepared in truffle oil! And oy, does that make for one juicy breast of chicken.

Forget for a few delectable hours of epicurean ecstasy that they should keep a defibrillator in the back for the shock that accompanies the delivery of the check and that every meal should be accompanied by a gift certificate for a free angioplasty (if you don’t feel a slight hardening of the arteries as you leave the restaurant, you didn’t order properly). Everything that comes out of that kitchen is a gastronomic delight!

At his inauguration, President Reagan asked Sirio if he had voted for him
(assuming it was a no-brainer) and was stunned.

On Wednesday, June 9th, Sirio’s chic and savvy daughter-in-law, Lauren—who, along with Mario, oversees the family’s two Las Vegas restaurants, Le Cirque and Osteria del Circo, both at Bellagio—and Las Vegas legend Phyllis McGuire (who, along with her sisters, has been a long-time fan and customer of both Sirio and Le Cirque) invited 50 or so of Las Vegas’ elite to toast Sirio, Peter and their new book at an intime lunchtime affair.

I was one of the first to arrive (as lacking in social graces as many Las Vegans are in the best of times, they are appallingly unconcerned about their lack of punctuality, which leads one to wonder whether watches are worn as symbols of material status or instruments by which the wearers can—but don’t— tell time). Sirio’s fellow A-list restaurateur Piero Selvaggio was there with his wife, Stacy Dalgleish, having flown in from Los Angeles to fete their friend.

Nightlife impresario Robert Frey (responsible for BiKiNiS, Coyote Ugly, the new Tangerine and the as-yet-unnamed project in the former Magical Empire space beneath Caesars Palace) was there. As always, Robert delighted in showing us he has never met a tie that he wasn’t willing to leave at home. Fortunately for Robert, the look suits him well, suave with a soupçon of wit.

Cathy Seiff was there, too, sporting her toothy Close-Up smile. But naughty Cathy showed up late and had to sneak to her seat. Don’t think DLV didn’t notice, darling! It’s a good thing Ms. Seiff is adorable and beloved by all! According to Robert Frey, she’s “the patron saint of Las Vegas.” I wonder, then, should we expect to see Cathy Seiff bobblehead dolls on people’s dashboards in the near future?

There was Heather duBoef (in Roberto Cavalli, comme d’habitude) and her mother-in-law, the lovely Lovee Arum (wife of boxing über-promoter Bob).  And a few feet away, the impossibly radiant Chantal Cloobeck, whose ever-present style that afternoon was being shown up only by the warm luster emanating from the strand of perfectly matched 16-mm South Sea lovelies strung around her swanlike neck. Sun-kissed stunner Nicole Weismann sidled up between Lauren and me, and the three of us played a quick round of “Who’s wearing the most Gucci?” (Nicole’s curve-hugging suit with studded belt, purse and shoes narrowly beat out Lauren’s immaculately tailored tawny pantsuit.)

Senior managing director of Southern Wine & Spirits of Nevada, Larry Ruvo—quite possibly the great unsung hero of all charity events in the Greater Las Vegas area, without whose support Las Vegas’ charities would be stuck paying for their liquor (and can you imagine sitting through some of those testimonials sober?)—was his usual dashing self, while mother/daughter duo Susan and Lori Mardian flashed some very Happy Diamonds courtesy of Chopard, and Michelle and Lawrence Epstein simply looked sensational (she was especially sporty in a suburban safari ensemble that extended all the way down to the Prada sandals).

Nevada Cancer Institute president Heather Murren blew in straight from the MGM Grand— where she’d been just blown out by stylist to the stars Christophe at his new Las Vegas salon—and met up with her NVCI associates Shelley Gitomer and Ellen Curtis. Curiously, the trio left before the main event. The Las Vegas Sun’s effervescent Muriel Stevens (who’s so cool she could show up at the Holocaust Memorial with a bag full of Christmas cheer and get away with it!) was happily bebopping around; and Las Vegas’ own Earl of Extravagance, Duke of Decadence, and Pied Piper of Profligacy—a man who certainly knows a good truffle when he eats one—Robin Leach was definitely in his element.

Even Mirage Resorts president Bobby Baldwin stopped by to take in the happening and lend his support to the family. After all, bringing Le Cirque to Bellagio was just as important as bringing Chanel. Finally, the crowd had congregated, and Mario had everyone move into what, after a half-dozen years, is still the Strip’s most perfect jewel box of a dining room. And what was really exciting was seeing how lovely the room looks by sunlight.

Mario stood and spoke quite eloquently, welcoming everyone to lunch and telling how he and Lauren have come to consider Las Vegas their home. After this, he introduced his father, who rose and reminded us all once more of the effortlessness with which charm seemingly oozes from his every pore.

Ladies, if you’re shorter than 5’4” or smaller than a size 4,
and you’re lugging around a 32cm handbag, you look absurd.

Regaling us all with anecdotes of Dr. Henry Kissinger and former President Richard Nixon (including their famous reconciliation that was arranged by Sirio and captured by the press after lunch outside Le Cirque), and the recently departed President Ronald Reagan (Sirio had spoken to former First Lady Nancy Reagan in the week before her husband’s passing), Maccioni kept the room enthralled. One of the things about Sirio is that he has always been very public about eschewing politics. This came up in a tale that took place at Reagan’s inauguration, when the President asked Sirio if he had voted for him (assuming it was a no-brainer) and was stunned when he heard Sirio’s usual answer of avoiding politics altogether.

Then, after some urging from Sirio, we heard from a very pregnant Elizabeth Blau, executive vice president of restaurant marketing and development for Wynn Resorts, and one of the very few ladies I know who can carry off an Hermès Kelly bag. This brings me to the “Diva Las Vegas” Fashion Admonition of the Month: Ladies, we get that you have mad coins and want everyone to know it; but, if you’re shorter than 5’4” or smaller than a size 2 and you’re lugging around a 32cm handbag, you look absurd. History lesson: The legendary bag received its name after a famous photograph of Grace Kelly was taken, in which the princess is holding one in front of her, hiding her pregnant belly from the camera.

Anyhoo…  Elizabeth recounted how she’d met Mario and Sirio and went to work greeting people at the door of Le Cirque. She went on to say that she learned more in those three months at the door than she did in three years of graduate school (although her folks might be a bit chagrined to hear it). As one would expect, the food was superlative. Sirio’s only complaint was the absence of his grandchildren. After the crème brûlée, everyone received a signed copy of the book (which is quite a fun read, in that it never drags and is suitably chock-a-block full of bold-print names).

However you might categorize Sirio Maccioni—schmoozer, showman, what have you—he has always done it with class, style and the joie de vivre that has kept kings, presidents, prime ministers and captains of industry not only coming back for decades but also continuing to do so for many, many years to come. To Sirio Maccioni I say only: L’Chaim, sir, and thank you for the memories (and the high cholesterol—every delectable bite was worth it)!

Sirio Maccioni
April 05, 1932 — April 20, 2020
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