Friday, February 11, 2005 Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

RESTAURANT REVIEW: Fleur de Lys

Perfection: From the playing card-shaped cod to the Colorado lamb loin, a meal at Fleur de Lys is something to remember

Fleur de Lys is decorated with cozy curtained booths and a wall accent filled with fresh roses. Photo by K.M. Cannon.

I love my job -- really, really love it -- and wouldn't trade it for anything short of a winning Megabucks pull. But, like any other job, it does have its drawbacks, few though they may be.

One is that, when I'm reviewing a restaurant, I seldom can order whatever I happen to be in the mood for. I take into account a restaurant's specialties and the chef's mission, and usually look for something a little offbeat that distinguishes this restaurant from all the rest. It's that philosophy that once led me, years ago and in another state, to order scallops with white chocolate and mead, just to see what that particular respected chef was up to (something much better than you'd think, as it turned out).

It's also what led me at Fleur de Lys, the new showpiece at Mandalay Bay, to order the Blackjack of Cod, chef/owner Hubert Keller's whimsical nod to all things Vegas.

In previously interviewing Keller, I'd picked up that, while he has a solid sense of humor, he's passionate about his craft. I had to wonder, then, why the heck he'd create something that was such a novelty -- an appetizer in the shape of a winning hand of cards. So I bit. And what I found I should've known all along: that while Keller knows how to kid a kidder, he uses whimsy merely as an adjunct to his mission of delivering a memorable dining experience.

But back to the cod: A lot of thought went into this one. The specially made glass plate had a squarish space in the center that Keller & Co. filled with green cucumber gelee. Brandade is a sort of seasoned puree or paste of cod, in this case left coarse enough to retain some texture. It was arranged atop the gelee in the shape of two playing cards (cards on green felt; get it?), with Oscetra caviar marking the suit on one card, tomato filling the role on the other.

And it was, in a word, delicious. The contrasting flavors of the cool cucumber and the silken-smooth fish mixture were absolute perfection; I would happily have this one again no matter how it were shaped. Our waiter explained as he served it that the four discs on the side were potato chips. Didn't look like potato chips to me, but yes, they were in the shape of chips -- poker chips -- marked with various denominations, and, yes, they were made from potato. I loved it.

Actually, our waiter and those who assisted him explained everything as they served it, which was in itself a refreshing departure. When, for example, an entree of Colorado lamb loin and lamb sweetbreads arrived, I looked down, saw no sweetbreads and wondered what was up -- just as our waiter explained that they were in the Savoy cabbage roll, along with potatoes mousseline. For those who forget the details of what they've ordered, such an explanation can be especially useful.

But back to the lamb. Again, perfection. The potato-and-cabbage treatment was an earthy touch that spoke of Keller's origins in Alsace-Lorraine, and a particularly useful way to mitigate the richness of sweetbreads, love them though I do. The loin was a contrasting study in simplicity with its accent of spiced honey and toasted cumin-seed sauce.

By now you may have noticed that I've listed no prices. That's because dinner at Fleur de Lys is a prix-fixe proposition, with more flexibility than most. Three courses (the option we chose) cost $68, four $76, five $88. The extra courses come from the entree section of the menu, with size reduced accordingly. It's a nice touch for those who would like to try a number of entrees.

The wine list showed lots of flexibility as well. We weren't surprised that it was heavily French, and as we'd expect in a top-drawer restaurant, there were quite a few bottles priced in the upper reaches. But there also were a fair number of less-common names at more-common prices; so it was that we took a leap of faith on a 2000 Beaucanon Napa Cabernet Franc ($42) and found it to be one of the best wines we've had in a while -- big and bold, but still sufficiently soft.

Our other starter reflected Keller's origins as well. The Oven Baeckeoffe paired an exceptionally meaty crab cake with a little tureen of rich lobster bisque, and accompanied it with the gently sauteed tops of young leeks and a pile of wild mushrooms.

A simple filet mignon was taken to a new level with a lovely, deeply flavored red-wine reduction, and paired with tortellini stuffed with coarsely textured braised oxtail. The flavors and textures contributed to the whole on numerous levels.

We could've done nicely without dessert, but of course ended up with two. A chocolate souffle ($5 extra) with Kirsch ice cream was perfect -- light without, creamy within -- and the Paris-Vegas involved roasted raspberries on raspberry coulis with praline ice cream and a chewy bit of sweetness in the form of almond nougatine. Sweet seductions, both.

Our enjoyment of all of this was heightened further by the serene surroundings. Fleur de Lys is old-school in that it eschews the noisy goings-on in much of the new generation of Las Vegas restaurants, opting instead for a more soothing level of energy. Designer Stanley Gatti's special touches abound, from the custom-embroidered upholstery on the chairs to the designs on the dishes. And from where we were sitting, we could smell the fresh roses in Gatti's leaf-shaped creation on one wall.

Service was particularly noteworthy; I don't remember the last time I saw anyone decant a bottle of wine. Courses were served simultaneously and cleared that way as well. Rolls were brought frequently and served from a tray that held several varieties; I especially enjoyed the ciabatta, while my friend liked the black olive.

It was, my friend said, perhaps the best meal of her life (and trust me, she gets around). As for me, I'll just say that Fleur de Lys is yet another welcome addition to the top level of dining in Las Vegas.

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