Friday, November 22, 2002
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

RESTAURANT REVIEW: About Atmosphere

Service stands out at Treasure Island's Buccaneer Bay

Buccaneer Bay's tables are arranged in cozy nooks, offering views of the Pirate Battle below. Photo by Ralph Fountain.

One of the things that defines life in Las Vegas is the ability to sort of live in a theme park whenever we want to.

Where else in the world, for example, could you sit down to dinner in a room that resembles a cross between Robert Louis Stevenson and Jimmy Buffett images of life in the Caribbean and look out a window to see the crews of two full-sized ships battle it out every 45 minutes? Not even Disneyland can top that.

So yes, there's no doubt that fun of the fantasy type is a big part of the dining experience at Buccaneer Bay at Treasure Island.

But so is the service. After arriving before our reserved time, we settled on a couch of movie-prop design and watched as a party of three arrived. They had no reservations; told the wait would be about an hour, they politely declined and headed to the elevator that would take them back to the casino floor.

Oh, but wait, the hostess beckoned. We have a steakhouse, as well. Would you like me to call over there and see if you can get in right away?

Sure, they said. She called. They could, and went off happily.

Now, that's customer service -- not to mention smart business (which is what good customer service is, of course, but that's another subject).

And as we perused the menu a few minutes later, we thought again about that steakhouse. The Buccaneer Bay, which is sort of positioned as the Treasure Island's gourmet room, lists a larger proportion of steaks than I'd expect on a gourmet room menu.

And, as it turned out, steak is the restaurant's strong suit. (There's probably some sort of pirate analogy in there, but never mind ...) The dry-aged bone-in shell steak ($34) we ordered was the sort of thing every steakhouse should aspire to serve, the steak gaining flavor from both the aging and the fact that it was cooked with the bone. It was perfectly medium-rare as ordered and wonderfully juicy, but it was the depth of flavor that made this steak a standout. It was accompanied by thinly cut, just-crisp enough cottage-fried potatoes, for a textural and flavor contrast.

Beef again starred in the soup of the day ($7), which was beef-mushroom soup -- a perfectly balanced, well-flavored creation that was just the thing on a nippy autumn evening.

And there was a surprise autumnal note in the shrimp and crab shepherd's pie ($32). This was a true shepherd's pie: Mashed potatoes had been piped on top in a cluster of pretty little rosettes, then delicately browned. The menu promised Armagnac cream, but the flavor of Armagnac was so timid as to be barely detectable. Lots of shrimp and crabmeat there, though, and that touch of fall -- julienne of parsnips, adding their characteristic flavor, which harmonized with, rather than contrasting, the assertive flavors of the seafood.

Service throughout was quite good, and all of the ancillaries were there -- linens and candlelight and interesting art. The breads we were served were interesting, too -- a lavosh with the very clear flavor of fennel seed; nearly as assertive rosemary hard rolls; a crisp-crusted, light-textured baguette; and some crisp breadsticks.

The only real clinkers came at the beginning and end of the meal. Pan-roasted sweetbreads ($13) served as a starter were strangely tough -- extremely strange in that they had not been overcooked, and were still pink inside. Sweetbreads normally are sort of creamy and velvety; these most decidedly were not. I'm not sure what the kitchen did to ruin them, but ruin them they did.

And a Grand Marnier souffle ($7.75) was not what it should have been. It appeared to have been left a little too long in the oven, which left the top overbrowned, the interior too dry.

Blackbeard would never have stood for it.

Las Vegas Review-Journal restaurant reviews are unannounced and done anonymously at Review-Journal expense.