A couple of weeks ago, I celebrated breakfast at the newly opened Bouchon in the Venetian, and it was a happy coincidence that while dining on their patio one evening, I met Andy and Ronnie Klein, proprietors of one of the city's best breakfast and lunch joints, Jamms. The couple is passionate about what they do, and they suggested I drop by to see for myself. I'm glad I did.
Jamms isn't grand or highfalutin' like Bouchon. Rather, it is a strip-mall space, anchored by a supermarket, decorated in generic greens: green carpet, green booths, green tabletops set with green rubber place mats, and green plants set atop a room divider separating the restaurant into two distinct dining spaces.
What makes breakfast here appealing is a combination of originality and good common sense. The robust coffee is from Boyd's, there are a few oddball juices like peach (which is surprisingly refreshing), and most egg dishes are served with a pot of fresh-baked bread, the same you would make at home with a bread machine. On the side, everyone gets a plate containing a trio of jams, and the winning touch, a big chunk of butter.
My favorite way to go is to pick something from the menu's extensive omelet section. Omelets at Jamms are creative and hearty, and huge to boot. You could select, as I did, the Jamms signature omelet, stuffed with sliced steak, onions, mushrooms and cheese, and crowned with a smear of tarragon-scented Bearnaise across the top.
There's also Joe's, a San Francisco favorite employing beef, spinach, onions and cheddar, and a Reuben omelet, in which the legendary sandwich's filling of corned beef, sauerkraut and Swiss ends up in between three beaten eggs.
In all, the menu lists more than 20 omelets, and that's not even accounting for all the other breakfasts: skillets; riffs on eggs Benedict; an extensive selection of waffles, pancakes and French toast; and several interesting side dishes.
Pancakes are a knockout: yeasty, thick, perfectly cooked and tangy from a batter that tastes vaguely of sourdough. My wife agreed, so much so that when I grumbled about no real maple syrup (one of my barometers for a great breakfast joint), she rolled her eyes and muttered, "You're the only one who cares."
I also liked something Jamms calls the Denver potato pancake, even if the word "pancake" is a misnomer. This creation is really a stack of layered hash browns and tiny bits of cubed ham, green onion, bell pepper and cheddar cheese. Each bite is different, and you'll like the dish so long as you aren't expecting a traditional potato pancake, which uses grated potatoes. I wouldn't have minded a little more ham and cheese in mine, but who's quibbling?
I have to be more critical with regard to lunch, though. Sandwiches are big and filling, garnished with either fat steak fries or sweet potato fries, both of which are first-rate, and the meaty, tasty burgers are a particular strong suit. But the salads need work—especially the dressings—and you'll simply have to get your dessert elsewhere. Jamms doesn't do desserts at all.
If you have a big appetite, there are homey soups which change daily, and an everyday chicken noodle soup that is much like the one you'd get in a Jewish deli. The Wednesday cabbage soup is very Jewish, as well. In fact, it is quite like one made by my own grandmother: sweet from slices of onion and carrot, dense from lots of ground beef, and rustic from hits of cabbage and tomato.
But my fresh Chinese chicken salad, which advertised cabbage and a sesame dressing, tasted thrown together, without any cabbage or Asian flavor from sesame oil, a necessary component. It was essentially just chopped lettuce; plain, unseasoned, grilled chicken; Mandarin oranges; too few green onions; and flavorless shaved almond.
And a Caesar salad wasn't much better, topped with a commercial dressing which barely evoked the flavors of a real Caesar.
Happily, though, the sandwiches don't disappoint. Sammy's Irish club has a touch of California for a corned-beef sandwich, in the form of sliced avocado and wheat toast. An unusual wrap made with turkey, Swiss cheese, fresh spinach and sliced pear is offset by a warm honey mustard dressing. The egg-salad club switches egg salad for turkey, and the idea seems like a natural.
Jamms could tweak a few things and improve greatly. For instance, they could use meat better than the pressed corned beef they now have, but given the price point and portion size, we should count our blessings. No one will call Vegas a great breakfast town just yet, but things are definitely looking up.