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There’s only one thing better than finding a restaurant that serves great food, and that’s finding a restaurant that also offers great service. Add fair prices and a view of the inspiring fountains of Bellagio and you’ll find yourself standing squarely in the winner‘s circle.
Tremezzo, located on the mezzanine level of the Aladdin Resort, claims to be the sort of restaurant little old Italian ladies would recommend. Those same ladies would also be appalled to learn that we had to rush our lovely meal, having barely left ourselves enough time to savor the flavors of the Old Country, before being required to scurry off to our promised evening‘s entertainment . (The type of entertainment, the reasons why we’d left ourselves with so little time, and the manner in which we acquired the $50 dining certificate at Tremezzo is another matter altogether; the explanation of which is sworn to secrecy since what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas and it’s really no one else’s concern.) Suffice to say, good service would be the deciding factor in whether or not Tremezzo garnered a favorable review.
Looking at the menu put us in a real Vegas-style bind. Our polished wait staff had greeted us enthusiastically, ignored our breathlessness, and offered a promise for a meal in 30 minutes without hesitation. Would we be pushing the point to order three courses? We accomplished the task readily by agreeing to split portions, to which the wait staff blinked no eye.
They forgave us, realizing that few patrons could pass on the tempting assortment of classic appetizers, pastas, and entrées. The first sharing course was a tough call between the pumpkin-stuffed tortelloni and the carpaccio de manza. The latter won out since any dish that combines four favorites -- thinly sliced beef drizzled with fig balsamic oil, heirloom tomatoes, and mozzarella -- will always emerge victorious. The refreshing second platte greeted us with a generous portion (large even when divided) of baby arugula, pear, and gorgonzola salad. Last but not least, we managed to make short work of a dreamy baked lasagna with remarkably light and creamy ricotta fondue. The little old ladies would be leaning back in the chairs about now, gossiping and laughing.
Thinking back on the meal and the attentive, efficient, and cheerful service, recalling the explosion of light and dancing waters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, causes me now to regret even more our limited time in the homey, Tuscan-style ambience. Especially given that the evening’s entertainment, which had seemed so important at the time, turned out to include scantily clothed magicians, a really bad Cher impersonator, and a midget.
As I said earlier, what happens in Vegas remains there. The lesson in all this? Never rush a gorgeous meal for the promise of cheap entertainment…
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