Expensive food tastes better.

So now we're to Wednesday, my last full day in Sin City. Post-seminar, the Liz and I got our drink on, hotel style. (Because when wine is $7 a glass and you can get the entire bottle for $8 down at the Quickie Mart, that's just how you have to roll.)

We had 6 p.m. reservations at what is now my most favoritest place in all of the earth: L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon. Um, hi. If you are not a foodie, please stop reading now because I will probably just bore and annoy you and you won't understand why I (of all people--and arguably the cheapest person on earth) paid $100 for a single meal. Moooooving on.

The vibe of this place is so awesome. Everyone sits in what feels like a bar area around the kitchen so you can watch the mad geniuses at work cooking your food. The head chef was a French badass, checking and tasting everything and plating with immaculate detail. The expediter wore a 3 pc. suit that probably cost more than my college education and worked with the finesse of the high rope aerobatic performers from Cirque the night before. The waiters were so polished and knew the menu and all its details as if they had created it themselves. As you can tell, my first opinions of this place were through the roof. And it got better from there.

We ordered cocktails and our dinners and then proceeded to do what all 20-something excitable diners do, we tweeted our every course. My first tweet was this picture with the caption "The chefs at Joel Robuchon makin' my dinner! Cook minions!"

Within seconds, whoever runs the Robuchon Twitter account retweeted it, and tagged us in a tweet reading "Bon Appetit!!" And then we died, obviously. Liz tweeted her entire meal, course by course (see here) and Robuchon retweeted it all - and even replied to some. For the next three days, I think she was mentioned in 2 of every 5 tweets from the account. It is for this reason that I'm quite certain she's got an "in" somewhere. Someday, I will get her drunk enough to confess it, but in the meantime we'll just pretend they are lovers. In related news, why didn't they comp our dinner, then?


After consuming what was far and away the greatest meal of my life, we went back to the room so this tired girl could take a nap. After a much-needed re-charge, we headed out to explore "old Vegas," also known as Fremont Street. What a cool place!

I don't have any pictures from the next day, but we took the few hours between my seminar ending and plane leaving to eat at Pink Taco, explored the Hard Rock, and rode the coaster at New York, New York. I screamed the entire time like a little girl, and I'm not proud of it. 

VIVA LAS VEGAS! I'll be back soon, Sin City.