Dragonfly — an Asian Joint

Looking over the list of sushi rolls at Dragonfly, I was sort of curious as to why, when most of them were available in half-sizes as well as whole, the presumed specialty-of-the-house Vegas Roll ($18) was served only in its entirety. In my business, curiosity often breeds intent. And as it turned out, volumes were spoken by that Vegas Roll.

Actually, calling it a "roll" is a bit of a misnomer. Yes, some of its components were cut from a sushi roll, but what dominated the plate was a lobster-tail shell that had been propped up and filled with big chunks of lobster tempura. The plate also held a substantial pile of lightly dressed mixed field greens and numerous slices of a large sushi roll filled with more lobster tempura, plus avocado, crab salad and, for a bit of glitz, lots of bright-orange tobiko, or fish roe. The components were fresh, perfectly prepared and most congenially compatible, the whole surpassing the sum of its parts. The ever-multiplying sushi joints in this town have come up with a proportional number of rolls named for Our Fair City, but few have honored it as this one did.

But what did it say about Dragonfly -- and, actually, its next-door elder-sister restaurant, Firefly on Paradise? The roll reflected standard operating procedure at the siblings, which plays out as a ton of creativity, a near-obsession with detail and the ability to remember to have some fun with our food.

I mention Firefly for several reasons. First, because the popular restaurant has been around a few years longer than Dragonfly, and therefore is familiar to more people. But also because we were seated near the window and couldn't help noticing that, while a steady stream of customers came and went at Firefly, Dragonfly remained nearly empty on this early weekday evening. The concept, we heard the bartender tell some inquiring guests, has been a little slow to catch on. And that's a shame, because the timid are missing out on a lot.

The Vegas Roll could have constituted a meal, but of course I wanted to try a few other things, and the "D-Fly-style" of sashimi -- one of six styles available, with five or six types of fish -- also piqued my curiosity; ahi ($9) it would be. "D-Fly style" involves lemon, herb oil and smoked salt, and the carefully cut slices of fish were each topped with a thin wedge of lemon and a dab of the herbed oil and salt. Folded over and popped into the mouth with chopsticks, they were slightly spicy, slightly smoky morsels of joy.

And when's the last time you had a decent egg roll? They've devolved, in most cases, into soggy, greasy packets of the least-flavorful of vegetables, and so I was intrigued (once again) by the menu description, which included pork and shrimp. No soggy and no greasy in this case ($6.50), but plenty of shrimp and pork, although I'd have liked a little more scallion or something to zip up the flavor of the latter. Nice fruity sweet-and-sour sauce on the side. And while this was billed as an eggroll, the four fat pieces came either from two egg rolls or from one made with the biggest egg-roll wrapper known to man.

Not that we were deterred; there was too much that tempted. Banana Leaf Salmon ($5.50) was a nice, firm, sweet slab served wrapped in a banana leaf, where it had been steamed with shiitake mushrooms, miso and sake. Our server said it was one of his favorites, and I can understand why.

Cashew chicken ($12) was a fusionistic bowl of egg noodles with a soy-coconut sauce, snow peas and carrots.

And, for a further bit of border-bending, we tried the coconut-milk-soaked chocolate cake ($4), which reminded us of South American tres leches cake. Sort of.

Service throughout was excellent, with our affable server chatting us up just enough, commenting on various dishes and providing good advice on the sake selection, which is extensive and includes the serious stuff as well as the fruity frou-frou. (And as for border-bending: This is place that offers Sake Sangria.) His only misstep was when we inquired about coffee, and he said it would take a while to make a pot. We probably could've insisted, but it would've been better if he'd just asked if we minded waiting for it.

Speaking of waiting: It did, after all, take a little while for Firefly's tapas concept to find wide acceptance in Las Vegas, but find it, it did. I'm predicting a similar future for Dragonfly. If you do it and do it well, they will come. Eventually.

Hopefully.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously, at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@ reviewjournal.com.