Peppermill

Las Vegas residents tend to have a few "tours" for their visiting friends and relatives, taking in the high spots that tourists frequently overlook.

If you've lived here any length of time, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Mount Charleston and Red Rock Canyon probably head my list, followed by Valley of Fire State Park and, until it closed, the Nile River boat ride at Luxor.

If you're a foodie, you probably include a couple of off-the-beaten-path dining spots. On my list, some of those would be Luv-It Frozen Custard, Doña Maria Tamales and, until it closed, (sigh...) Artem/Eliseevsky Russian Restaurant.

And, of course, the Peppermill Restaurant.

Yes, it could be argued that the Peppermill's Strip location would eliminate it from the off-the-beaten-path list, but it tends to be one of those places that's hidden in plain sight. It's on the less-glamorous (at least for now) north end of the Strip, and from the outside looks like just another diner-level tourist trap. But oh, how looks deceive.

I like to describe the interior of the Peppermill as what would happen if a Southern plantation were to explode, the pieces raining down on the set of a "futuristic" '70s TV show -- sort of jacarandas and the Jetsons. OK, they're not jacarandas, they're magnolias, but no lie; the gracefully drooping branches of the silk trees are set off by neon -- and that would be vibrantly colored neon, bright pink and bright blue, lining the ceiling and the edges of the big old-fashioned booths that are the only seating in the restaurant. Thousands of little mirrored squares make up the ceiling (the better to reflect the silk magnolias) and even the sugar in the glass shakers is neon-colored. Oh, and I love the Old Vegas touch of a cocktail waitress in a long black gown making her rounds in the dead of an afternoon, amid food servers wearing shorts and camp shirts.

The cocktail waitresses usually hang out in the lounge, of course, which is another story. The centerpiece there is a pond with flames shooting out of the center. There are booths in the lounge, too, and little tables and video screens all over the place broadcasting music videos. And neon. Lots of neon.

And it's all continually updated. So this is just about the coolest place in town.

And the food? Oh yeah; let's not forget about that. My last official visit was for lunch, and it's a great spot for that. Breakfast is offered all day and the omelets, biscuits and gravy, French Toast Ambrosia and Fruit Fantasia Waffle were pretty tempting, but so were the monumental fruit salads going by.

We settled, in the end, on a pastrami burger ($11.95), which was much like it sounds it would be: a half-pound burger topped with a mound of thinly sliced pastrami and Swiss cheese, served on a substantial bun. Although the burger was cooked a little more than the medium-rare we ordered, the accompanying mustard-mayonnaise sauce added moisture and complemented both the burger and the pastrami. From a choice of sides that included french fries and onion rings, I took our waitress' suggestion and went with the mayonnaise-based potato salad, which was OK but about as overdressed as some of the workin' girls who patrol the neighborhood sidewalks.

Mesclun was predominant in the mixed greens of the Walnut Creek Salad ($13.50), which was a good thing. The pear chunks, sugared walnuts, mandarin oranges and chunks of chicken breast tossed together on top added interest in terms of both taste and texture, and the pear-cilantro vinaigrette on the side was noteworthy, but even better was the rosemary-topped foccacia -- rich with the flavor of olive oil, brightened up by lots of the herb -- that we chose as our bread choice.

Service was on the slow side, which we couldn't quite figure out. It took our waitress an eternity to reach us, but at other times, she seemed pretty efficient.

We didn't much mind, though. One thing about the Peppermill is that there's always plenty to look at.

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.