Martinis

It’s true that the service, atmosphere and especially the food at what we traditionally think of as poker bars has improved exponentially in the past few years, to the point that the restaurant aspect alone is a major draw for most of them. Still, I don’t think I ever was served an amuse-bouche in a poker bar until the runner at Martinis brought us plates topped with a dab of very chunky chicken salad enriched with creme fraiche, on a disk of crisp wonton chip. It was not only a surprise but a most pleasant one.

Which is not to say all was right with our dinner at Martinis.

Service, for example, was somewhat spotty. Our waitress appeared promptly after we were seated, and when she was around she was pleasant, accommodating and informative; it’s just that there were long lapses between the periods when she was around. It’s possible that she was overburdened, because she kept delivering food and drink to a walled-off area at one end of the dining room, but if that was it, staffing wasn’t quite adequate.

Another sort of bumpy spot: When we asked for glasses of water to go with our cocktails, she replied, “Our water isn’t filtered; would you like a bottle of water from the bar?” It came across as blatant up-selling. Besides, the water should be filtered — which is not her fault — and as it turned out, it was surprisingly free of off-flavors, so if it came straight from a tap, I’d like to see that tap.

The runners assisting her were more consistent, but there were a few glitches there as well. For example, since we sat for a fairly long interval after ordering our drinks but before receiving them, we asked the runner who had delivered our water if we could have some bread. She replied in the affirmative and returned with two rather decent whole-wheat rolls — but they’d been warmed, and too long, in a microwave, so they were both too hot to touch and had the rubbery texture that results from heating (especially overheating) bread in a microwave.

Most of our food, however, was equal in quality to that of the amuse-bouche. A starter of prawns ($15), for example, was three colossal crustaceans wrapped in crisp bacon. The prawns might have been a tad overcooked — but just a tad — because somebody was concerned about crisping the bacon (personally, I would have cooked both a little less), but the truly wondrous mango barbecue sauce more than made up for it. I’m not a big fan of mango unless it’s balanced by something at the extreme other end of the sweetness spectrum, and that was the case here. The delicate fried onion rings that formed the base for the stacked prawns (all of it held together with one of Martinis’ iconic martini-glass cocktail picks) added another layer of flavor.

There were lots of layers of flavors and textures, as well, in an entree of lamb chops ($20). The chops themselves were gently flavored (Rosen lamb, which is American and therefore somewhat less gamey than its New Zealand counterpart), lightly charred and perfectly medium-rare as ordered, and they were served with a whole complement of crisp-tender vegetables, including bias-cut carrots, tiny turned yellow-squash ovals and more. The rosemary fries served on the side were perfect, rosemary having a natural affinity for lamb, and we were glad that the herb wasn’t used to an overwhelming degree.

A judicious hand (which is to say, common sense) also was applied in the assembling of the mixed-berry salad ($10), field greens heaped on slices of prosciutto and tossed with blackberries, blueberries, raspberries, hazelnuts and a not-too-sweet mixed-berry vinaigrette, with a slightly crisp-coated cake of goat cheese on top for an earthy accent. Lots of contrasting flavor notes and textures here; it was a successful dish that would suffice nicely as a light meal.

Somewhat less successful was the flatbread with mozzarella, Parmesan, ricotta and garlic. The flavors made a fine, if traditional, marriage and were considerably enlivened by a generous amount of basil chiffonade. The problem was that all that cheese weighed down the crust with too much moisture so that it was unpleasantly soggy in spots.

We skipped dessert but did enjoy a couple of Martinis’ martinis — which, in keeping with widespread practice these days, were not really martinis, but what the heck. Our waitress had told us the blueberry and pear both were made with fresh fruit and were specialties of the house, and the latter ($11) was, it turned out, quite nice, with a pronounced pear flavor that was neither overly sweet nor too strong. A Pisco Sour ($8) also had an agreeably tart edge, the flavor of the Peruvian regional brandy set off by lime, sugar and Angostura bitters.

It would take us (or anyone) quite a few months to work our way through Martinis’ very tempting list of nonmartini martinis. Adroitly mixed cocktails are a natural for a poker bar — especially one like this, with the dark woods and subdued feel of a gentleman’s library.

The good food is just a bonus.

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