Oscar’s Beef, Booze & Broads a throwback to old Las Vegas

This is one of those reviews that we have to start with the elephant in the room, which is the decision to revise the original name of Oscar's Steakhouse at the Plaza to Oscar's Beef, Booze & Broads.

Yes, it's offensive on its face, because even though Oscar's is meant to be a throwback to old Las Vegas it happens to have been founded in the 21st century, when we have, after all, gotten past a number of other pejoratives that were considered acceptable in decades past. However, in the tradition of its namesake, former Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman, we can assume the name is designed to provoke. Therefore, it follows that the offended would do best to just ignore it.

Because, "broads" aside, the beef and booze at Oscar's are worth the trip.

Our recent dining experiences have given us hope that Las Vegas is, indeed, past the depth of its depressing recession. For the second time in three weeks, we arrived at the restaurant we were scheduled to review to find that a large group had reserved the entire place. At Oscar's, though, we were told that we could dine in the bar, a sleek, airy space in neutral shades.

That was a bit of a disappointment because the dining room overlooking the lights of the Fremont Street Experience is a big part of the draw, but the place had just smelled so darn good as we were approaching the hostess station that we couldn't resist. And so we decamped -- and ended up having a fabulous experience. That's because the bartender was extremely personable, even as bartenders go, and we truly enjoyed chatting with him occasionally throughout our dinner.

Which brings us to the "booze" part of the formula. We started with a Bombay Sapphire gin martini, because how could we not, in Oscar's place? We made what we thought was a rather un-Oscar request, though, as to whether the bar had blue-cheese-stuffed olives and were assured that they did, housemade and hand-stuffed and with Maytag, no less. And, perhaps in tribute to Oscar, the martini was absolutely perfect (and while we drank it we enjoyed a crusty onion focaccia).

We seldom indulge in martinis but were not so sufficiently schnockered that we didn't truly appreciate the "beef" part of the equation, and the rest of the food as well. Because this seems to be the underlying truth of Oscar's: It's a throwback, yes, to old Las Vegas, but the chef is smart enough to honor tradition without being a slave to it.

That was most obvious in the case of the Cardini's Two-Bit Caesar ($7), which was, as the barkeep had told us, large enough to share. It was a traditional preparation but with a few twists, including that, instead of solely romaine, pieces of red leaf lettuce had been tossed into the mix. And while the creamy dressing quite clearly carried the flavor of anchovies, it was just to the extent that it provided a bracing, salty accent, without the overwhelming fishiness of the back-in-the-day Caesars that had the little fish draped here and there across the salad.

Updated touches abounded, as well, in the true-to-tradition Steak Tartare a la Meyer ($14). The beef was quite coarse -- the menu said it was hand-chopped -- which gave it much more texture than we usually encounter in this dish. It was accompanied by a little pile of microgreens and streaks of Dijon and of a very mild horseradish sauce, although the caper-onion-and-Worcestershire tartare had plenty of flavor without it. The only thing that gave us pause about this dish was the name, which we took to refer to Meyer Lansky, whom we'd just as soon not think about when eating raw meat. But maybe that's just us.

Joey C's filet mignon no doubt is named after another mobster, although this time the association escaped us, and maybe that's a good thing, because our filet -- we had the 8-ounce ($32; the 12-ounce is $42) -- was perfectly rare as ordered. Yes, that's as it should be but not often as it is. The steak-on-a-plate was accompanied only by a small pile of shredded vegetables.

Which was not a problem because we also indulged in some creamed spinach ($7), which was as classic-steakhouse as the filet -- large, fresh-tasting leaves cloaked in a divine sauce.

Not so classic was a dish heartily recommended by the bartender, Oscar's Mayor Weiner Schnitzel ($42), which brought to mind martinis because it was neither a Wienerschnitzel nor a schnitzel at all, and we're still trying to figure out who the "weiner" is. Anyway, the menu called it a "grilled bone-in veal chop paillard," which involved even more confusing contradictions but apparently was intended to refer to a thinnish veal chop, which it was. It also was cooked perfectly -- with wonderful, smoky grilled flavor -- and topped with a huge pile of shredded arugula, radicchio and romaine in a light vinaigrette, which contributed a circus' worth of color, plus a surfeit of texture and flavor.

So. We don't make a habit of eating at a bar, but we have to say, we enjoyed the experience immensely.

Next time, maybe we won't even try for the dining room.

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