Samuel's was around for decades, first when it belonged to its original owner, a man whose name was pronounced Sam-oo-el-ee, and later, to Tony Scarpa, who now operates a pizza joint on the west side. I often ate breakfast there, because they gave you a pile of bacon and hash browns that was the equal of any in the area. But as the restaurant fell into disrepair and lunch and dinner became as dreary as the décor, I stopped going altogether.
Enter Michael Weiss, the new owner, and his Turkish-born wife, Aysegul. They embarked on a three-month remodel, reopening in April. The couple repainted the place, retiled the kitchen and refurbished the floors, so now it's clean and fresh inside. There's blond wood everywhere, plus ceiling fans and seascapes on the walls that give off a generic appeal, erasing any memories of hard-core funk.
The format hasn't changed much. There is still a pastry case on the left side of the restaurant, where goodies such as crusty homemade bagels and black and white cookies are sold, not to mention the terrific chicken salad and chopped liver. That's the real surprise: The food has gotten better.
Weiss does a lot of on-premises baking. The good rye bread for sandwiches is baked here and so are pastries such as rugelach and hamantaschen, triangular pies filled with prune or apricot puree that observant Jews eat on their spring holiday, Purim.
I visit on a busy afternoon, and as I enter, I eyeball a gruff-looking retiree wearing his Yankees cap as he digs into a mammoth bowl of chicken matzo-ball soup, which I can't resist. Soon after, I am being plied with a dish of crisp, nicely brined half-sours, pickled tomato and homemade bagel chips. The soup follows shortly.
I'm not disappointed. You still get the tennis-ball-size matzo ball, but, somehow, it's a little fluffier than the old one, and the broth more flavorful, more chickeny. Pieces of the white meat drift to the surface, along with diced carrot and celery and wispy egg noodle. This is one of the homiest, most satisfying soups in all of Vegas.
It's summertime, and the noshing is easy, so I drift into a piece of sable fish from the specials board, and some of the delicious chopped liver. Sable is really black-skinned cod that you might eat in a trendy Japanese restaurant, but in a deli, the fish is smoked, and there's no miso in the recipe. The chopped liver, meanwhile, is tasty, but overly pureed, as if it were done in a food processor. Still, the onion and liver come through loud and clear, and it's a delight smeared onto one of the house everything bagels.
Sandwiches are a little more up and down. My waitress just gave me a blank stare when I asked if I could have my pastrami hand-sliced, but the meat, a generous portion, had just the right mix of fat and smoke. My brisket was tasty, too, if a little on the dry side, but the condition is easily remedied with a little au jus on the side.
[Try Something New!] |
Don't expect yak meat or an audience with the Dalai Lama, but do expect an exotic cultural encounter when you attend the Tibetan-style festival at the new Himalayan Cuisine, 730 E. Flamingo Road, August 4 and 5. On both days, there will be Tibetan food, music and souvenirs. Sample dishes such as momo, Tibetan-style steamed dumplings, and thukpa, a thick noodle soup eaten on the frosty Tibetan plateau. Call 894-9334. |
And the potato latkes, light and crisp around the edges, are just about the best in town. They come in a stack of three, with sour cream and applesauce. Feeling ambitious? Try a house specialty called Ceily's Stack, two potato latkes stuffed with brisket and topped with munster and provolone. There is also, for purists, a proper Philly cheesesteak made with thinly sliced top sirloin and mozzarella cheese on a French roll.
For breakfast, try the matzo brie, sautéed matzo and eggs, which I like to eat topped with pure maple syrup. There is a delicious French toast made with challah, braided egg bread traditionally eaten on the Sabbath, as good a challah as you can buy locally.
For lunch, a chocolate egg cream and potato knish is as close as you'll get to Coney Island, and one of the restaurant's combination sandwiches, all of which are named for people you've never heard of, is another good option.
How about the Clary Silver, a stack of corned beef and pastrami, piled up with Swiss cheese, coleslaw and Russian dressing? Or maybe the Sol Rubin—brisket, tongue, kosher salami, coleslaw and horseradish. Who are these guys, anyway?
At least we know who Michael Weiss is, even if he's not an institution just yet.