Who wants to see a magic trick?” asks our cheerful, irreverent waiter, Taco, as he reveals a handful of spoons while serving our dessert. Before we can reply, he has taken the spoons with a flourish, licked one up and down with his tongue, and deposited the entire pile of spoons on the table for the apple and peanut butter pies we have ordered.
Ew, gross.
This type of good-natured tomfoolery is what one can expect at Dick’s Last Resort, a Dallas-based chain that has recently opened its latest outpost at the Excalibur. This is not the sort of place for diners in a grumpy mood. Everyone in here is partying, including a team of servers who display boundless energy while fitting customers with silly hats and cleaning up the unholy mess that winds up on the restaurant floor.
This isn’t the first restaurant to perpetrate gentle abuse on the customers. The steak-house chain Pinnacle Peak, for instance, in Southern California, has a tie graveyard populated by ties they have literally snipped off unsuspecting guests, and the famous Sam Woo noodle house in San Francisco had, for years, the infamous waiter Edsel Ford Fong, who regularly threw out customers for reasons known only to himself.
Sometimes a concept seems like a no-brainer for the Strip, and this, like Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville, is one of them. It’s a loud, boisterous room filled with neon beer signs and bumper stickers that make sophomoric references to the name Dick.
All the chairs have balloons tied to them, and more than one person is wearing an “I’m With Stupid” T-shirt. You’ll sit at a wooden table, set with paper placemats, and from time to time, a flurry of napkins come wafting down from the ceiling, landing on the floor next to you. When the waiter brings water, it’s likely to be on a huge tray filled with plastic cups. When he trips, and the cups descend on you, it turns out they are empty. Har de har har.
This is one place that requires a suspension of any kind of stuffiness to enjoy, and that includes the food. I suppose the food here is sort of beside the point, although the kitchen appears to take some of these dishes seriously. If you compare what you eat here with the type of places it competes with—say, Friday’s or Applebee’s—you’ll leave happy. I did.
After a round of icy drinks dispensed from a machine, we got down to the business of eating. The first dish, a huge crock filled with a layer of melted cheese atop a pile of chili, worked well with the rainbow-colored basket of tortilla chips and jalapenos. Crabby cakes, two orange-hued crab cakes served with a pink chipotle mayonnaise, had a nice flavor, although they were a tad starchy.
We also ate our way through a workmanlike Caesar salad with all the dressing on the bottom, and a metal bucket filled with peel-and-eat shrimp. These shrimp, which are first simmered in beer and then placed alongside a fire-engine-red cocktail sauce, are a bargain at only $6.95 for a half-bucket. (That portion easily satisfied four of us, so the full bucket, at $11.99, must be mammoth.)
Main courses proved to be more hit and miss. Case o’ King Crabs is fine, a bucket of steamed crab legs served with garlic butter, but at $25.99, it is a tad pricey for the young crowd in here. Our Ring ’n’ Wing Combo, three barbecued ribs and a pile of wings with a sticky sweet honey glaze, was sweet enough to have had for dessert, and ditto a bourbon-glazed hunk of salmon on a cedar plank, with a sauce so sweet it made my teeth hurt.
But Ride’m Cowboy Rib Eye, a 12-ounce, USDA-choice hunk of tender beef, was just about perfect, paired with cheesy mashed potatoes and a good vegetable medley of green beans, carrots and zucchini. And Dick’s Big Pig, a meaty pulled-pork sandwich on a nice bun topped with slaw, was even better, and a steal at only $9.95.
Dessert is a strong suit. The You Think It’s Fruit Pie is, in fact, a terrific apple pie with a flaky crust, topped with quality vanilla ice cream. Not Yo Mama’s Cheesecake is rich and creamy, and the star of stars may be Mile-High Peanut Butter Pie, a delicious confection layered with creamy chocolate ganache and peanut butter mousse.
The noise level in here is loud enough, but just before dessert, a band took the stage and began to play “Mustang Sally,” making the decibel level a bit too loud for this old dude. I admit, it’s fine for the Generation X and Y’ers, but forewarned is forearmed.
Dick’s Last Resort
Inside the Excalibur. 597-7777. Food served 11 a.m.-midnight, Sun.-Thurs., until 2 a.m. Fri.-Sat. Call for bar hours. Suggested dishes: Drunken Shrimp Cocktail, half bucket $6.99, full bucket $11.99; Ride’m Cowboy Rib Eye, $20.75; Dick’s Big Pig, $9.95; Mile High Peanut Butter Pie, $4.75.