Islands Fine Burgers & Drinks is the first Nevada outpost of a popular, tropically-themed burger chain from California. Call it old wine in a new bottle, but it's a serious wine and each time you take a sip, you're apt to discover something you missed the first time around.
Perhaps that explains why the two times I've been here, the place has been jammed to the rafters, or should I say, palapas. Straw frames the booths and bar, and the walls, made from woven wicker, are plastered with exotic masks and nautical memorabilia.
Tables are cleverly conceived, too: trompe l'oeil surfboards crafted from inlaid wood, laminated with enough coats to make them kid-proof and glossier than the hood ornament on a new Mercedes. Look up and you'll see exposed ducts on the ceiling and ceramic parrots on swinging perches. I've been to at least four locations in Southern California, and all of them have, more or less, the same playful design.
Food is consistent, too. One of the advantages of established chains is that it isn't like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates. In these places, you always know what you're gonna get.
We waited a bit longer than we wanted to for our waiter to approach, but he made up for that with a good attitude and efficient service. Servers wear Hawaiian shirts and are unfailingly cheery, a good thing since they have to deal with so many large families.
There are lots of things on the menu to share, and at reasonable prices. Island fries, for instance, are served in a giant basket for only $2.75; crisp, hot and delicious. Spinach and artichoke dip, a mix of chopped spinach, artichoke hearts, sautéed onions and garlic in a rich sour-cream sauce laced with mayonnaise, is an artery-clogging treat.
You can eat many other starters with considerably less guilt. Islands' tortilla soup is one of the best I've ever tasted, loaded with chicken and lots of chunked avocado, jack cheese, tortilla strips and diced vegetables. Topped with sour cream and a little of the house salsa, it's a real meal.
The house Caesar is delicious as well, best ordered as a side dish for only $2.19 when you order an entrée. Burgers count as entrées, and that's good news. These are big and juicy, grilled to order. I like mine with bacon, which feels like a pricey add-on at $1.65.
My favorite of the menu burgers is the Maui: a choice of a white or wheat bun with guacamole, lettuce, tomato, Swiss and mayo. A vegetarian friend had his made with the veggie burger; a dense, oat, mushroom-and-egg patty that tastes faintly similar to real meat.
The Bleunami has an untimely name, but is good: a classic burger with bleu cheese dressing. crumbled bleu and the usual trimmings. The Pipeline is their workmanlike chiliburger, and kids might go for the Moa Kai, a good tuna salad sandwich with pickles, cheddar and mayo. The Wedge is the name for their heavy-on-the-bacon BLT—another winner.
Islands isn't just a sandwich joint. They are justifiably proud of their rotisserie chicken, which manages to be moist and juicy in spite of its crisp skin. You'll get a bionic-sized half chicken served El Pollo Loco style, with salsa, sour cream, Islands slaw (which has almost no dressing but does have small, chunked pineapple) and flour tortillas.
Mexico also surfaces in a number of good soft tacos. Island Fish is battered mahi-mahi stuffed into corn tortillas with a tangy white chipotle sauce, while the relatively new item, Luau, is seasoned pork doused with caramelized onion and teriyaki sauce, served with an avocado salsa and an interesting cilantro-chili sauce on the side. Considering that this is a chain, there's no lack of imagination here.
Drinks are imaginative, too. Dad may need a Shipwreck if the kids are out of line. It's a Malibu Rum-based cocktail, laced with Midori—it's orange juice, a dash of grenadine and a splash of pineapple juice, and surprisingly isn't cloyingly sweet. The kids will flip for Cool Breeze, a whipped cream-topped smoothie in a giant plastic tumbler, made with coconut cream, bananas and strawberries.
There are only two desserts: Chocolate Wave, your basic chain brownie sundae, and a fat slice of coffee ice cream pie called Kona Pie, inside a thick Oreo cookie crust. It's a calorie extravaganza either way.
We've seen the first of this chain, and I'm betting we haven't seen the last.