Off the Strip

One of my regular readers told me a few months ago that he’d had meatloaf, really good meatloaf, at a newish off-the-Strip restaurant called — wait for it — Off the Strip, and although the restaurant was kinda upscale, the meatloaf was just $10.

Uh huh. I don’t usually doubt readers, who tend to be a sincere, helpful bunch overall, but I’ve always been a firm believer that if something seems too good to be true, it definitely is, so this one was going to remain to be seen.

Cut to last week and my inaugural visit to Off the Strip. There were the steaks hovering in the $30 range (which isn’t as high as it seems, these days and comparatively speaking) and the Beef Wellington (ditto) and the pasta dishes and oh, there was the meatloaf. Yeah, $10. So you can guess what I ordered.

And, well, I’m not going to promise to never doubt a reader again, but I sure shouldn’t have doubted this one. The loaf, served in two thick slices, was dense but still moist, well seasoned but still subtle, firm but not rubbery. But wait! What was that brown stuff on the top that looked suspiciously like canned gravy? Call it what you want — a thickened Bordelaise, a gravy, whatever — but it was most assuredly not canned (its ultra-smooth texture owing much, no doubt, to a chinoise, those cone-shaped fine-meshed strainers that are ubiquitous in restaurant kitchens).

On the side: a scoop of what the restaurant calls potato pie but what I’d call loaded twice-baked potatoes without the shell, baked in a pan so that everybody got a share of the crispy edges. And zucchini, sliced and sauteed with red bell pepper and herbs in a light tomato sauce.

Well all right, then.

The meatball snob decided on the rigatoni Bolognese ($13), with a meatball ($4.50 extra). The sauce itself was appropriately meaty, but the sauce also benefitted from a surfeit of sauteed vegetables that added plenty of flavor as well as texture. The rigatoni was suitably al dente, and the softball-sized meatball had that great balance of an almost-crusty outer shell that yields to a moist interior that somehow seems to better showcase the flavors of the meat and seasoning used in the mixture.

Doggie bags it would be, because these were generous portions — yes, for $10 — and because we’d indulged early on and planned to continue. An evening-special starter of asparagus spears wrapped in thinly sliced, slightly rare beef and graced with a well-balanced balsamic-marsala sauce and some sauteed mushrooms was simple in its execution but not in its flavor profile.

Salads are included with dinner, and we found the Caesar well-chilled, crisp and creamy and with an inordinate amount of Parmesan flavor (that’s a good thing), the balsamic-vinaigrette-dressed house a pleasing bowl of mixed greens and a few other vegetables (like cucumber).

And — ooh — cheesecake ($6.50), homemade; the menu promised it was created by Chef Al "aided only by a giant bowl and a big ol’ whisk," so I ask you, how could we possibly resist? They called it New York-style, but sometimes that means overly solid and this wasn’t, instead a fairly firm rendition with a wonderfully creamy center. The strawberry coulis and caramel drizzle on the plate just gilded the lily.

Service throughout was nothing short of excellent. There were no tables when we walked in, so a guy we took to be a co-owner offered us a seat at a raised counter along one side of the dining room, and there served us our starter and wine himself instead of overburdening one of the waiters. We were content to stay but he spotted some tables opening and transferred us to one for our salads, entrees and dessert, where we were served by an experienced, skilled waiter with a sense of humor and the good sense to know when to use it.

Unless you live in Southern Highlands, Off the Strip — which might, truth be told, be more accurately called Way Off the Strip — is no doubt out of your way. Take my word for it: It’s worth a trip.

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.