The hale, well-met Mike Warren, a.k.a. Capt. Mike, handles live lobsters, steams clams and prepares chowder with the practiced skill of a salty Down East fishmonger. He hails from Wells, Maine, and his outpost restaurant in North Las Vegas may, at first, seem an unlikely locale for his talents.
But last summer, he relocated from Zodie's, a dreary eastside bar, to a larger, more cheerful bar named Bogey's in a newer part of town. And his dining room, punctuated by a golf mural, fish nets and cliché aquatic items like a faux ship's wheel, is one more extension of the wonderful, improbable universe that is Las Vegas.
Warren's food was always poetry, but now the setting is, too. From his outdoor patio at sunset (which he uses for private parties or on request), the views of the mountains are nearly as magnificent as his signature lobster stew.
Warren makes his traditional Maine stew from a fumet, or broth, of lobster, carrots, celery and onion, to which he adds half-and-half, chunks of fresh lobster, and at the finish, a pool of melted butter. It's a lesson in elegance, as is his clam chowder, and both soups are as far from the pasty disgraces that pass for chowders outside New England as Maine is from Alpha Centauri.
This is a modest, entirely pleasant place, with oblivious customers watching sporting events at the adjacent bar, and white tablecloths during the evening. The enormous menu affords descriptions of the dishes, but most of the prices are on a blackboard because the prices of clams, shrimp and lobster fluctuate madly. (This was an especially difficult year for lobsters, says Warren.)
Warren is committed to having his seafood flown in from his native state, and actually goes to the airport to pick them up. The dedication pays off. No one in Las Vegas offers better New England-style seafood, and the quality is virtually the same as that found in top Boston area seafood houses like Legal or Union Oyster House.
The steamed clams, normally dipped in a clam broth and then in a nage of melted butter, require a little practice for the uninitiated. The server will advise you to pull the "beard," a sooty membrane that contains sand and grit, off the clam first. Follow this advice and you have one of the food world's more elemental treats.
Two appetizers worth a shout that Warren did not do at the old location are the crunchy, flavorful clam cakes (think crab cakes but made with chopped clams), eaten with homemade tartar sauce and wedges of lemon, and lobster ravioli, a fried pasta similar to a toasted St. Louis ravioli, except that the filling is a surprise lobster stuffing and completely delicious.
For those who want a live Maine lobster, the price goes up logarithmically by weight, as it would with diamonds. Steamed lobsters vary in price, but on my last visit, numbers ranged from $25.95 to $41.95. I'm lazy by nature, so I like Lazy Man's lobster, where the meat is pulled from the body and claws, broiled in lemon butter, and baked with breadcrumbs in the oven. But also is a factor is that this dish is divine.
Jessi's lobster is pan-seared in the shell with a Cognac sauce, and Chrissy's lobster is boiled in a white wine sauce. Warren also will fry, broil, boil or serve these unfortunate crustaceans or bake them with a shrimp, scallop and crab stuffing. They are all stunningly good, with side dishes like garlic and butter tossed green beans, and garlic mashed potatoes.
Lobster may be the raison d'etre for these entrees, but there are other delicious options. One is baked stuffed haddock, with that same glorious stuffing. A second is broiled bacon-wrapped scallops, that also can be had in an appetizer sized portion. A third is North Atlantic yellow fin tuna, which is best when prepared medium to medium rare to preserve its heady flavors.
All entrees include a fresh, crisp salad topped with sliced beets, with a few cherry tomatoes and slices of cucumber thrown in for added dimension. Warren recommends his house made balsamic vinaigrette, but his ranch dressing is a winner, too.
For dessert, there is a sensational strawberry shortcake made with a real baking powder biscuit, the way they do it in coastal Maine clam shacks (though there, I concede, you'd get blueberry shortcake).
Ey-yuh, as they say in Maine. This guy has nothing but fine salt coursing in his veins, a true son of the Atlantic.