Alex at Wynn Las Vegas may be a luxurious, formal space, but the restaurant is far from stuffy. Photo by Ralph Fountain.

OK, did I expect Alex at Wynn Las Vegas to be anything less than stellar?

Frankly, no. I always try hard to enter a restaurant without any preconceived notions, but that's easier in some places than others. Prior experience with the work of chef Alex Stratta at the late, lamented Renoir at The Mirage proved to me not only that he's got it going on but also that he brings it, time and again. And at his eponymous restaurant, which opened with the resort, he brings it.

"It" being a choice of only two menus, but perusing the choices, I doubt you'd hear many complaints from the field. The seven-course tasting menu runs $175, the three-course prix-fixe menu $125, and for numerous reasons that included the boss' heart condition and my weight but more notably the fact that a variety of dishes is offered for each course, we chose the latter. (And, in a sad commentary on Las Vegas restaurant prices, I found myself thinking that $125 really wasn't too bad, all things considered and with other tasting-menu prices in mind.)

My friend had asked what the Robiola cheese agnolotti were, and I had provided an explanation, but when she stumbled slightly on the pronunciation and corrected herself, our waiter interjected, "or, as we call them, cheese ravioli," which automatically won props for him. A staff can take its food and wine (and certainly its level of service) seriously without being so stuffy as to encourage sleep or so snobby as to encourage intimidation, and throughout our dinner, the staff at Alex succeeded.

Here's an example: A friend had worn a coat on this chilly evening, which she had checked. As we walked toward the door, and without a word from any of us, a member of the staff had retrieved her coat and was holding it open for her.

Another: that the staff didn't seem to mind that we wanted to linger over a glass of wine in the lounge before going in to dinner. Granted, it was a slow weeknight, but such delays in making it to the table at the reserved time seem to strike fear in the hearts of some restaurant staffs.

Another: that as we walked out the door, we were handed little boxes containing meringues, which helped the memory of our dinner linger even more sweetly. And the meringues were just one of several lagniappes, the others including a four-part amuse bouche -- with each of us served a spoon of butternut squash panna cotta (for an inspired savory take on a usually sweet dish), a scallop chip topped with tuna tartar, arancini (Italian-style rice balls) stuffed with braised beef, and a grissini (or breadstick to you and me) wrapped with ham -- plus a more-than-generous assortment of sweets after dinner.

Oh, and the bread. A server brought around a bread tray bearing small, crisp-crusted French rolls, plus rolls flavored with cranberry, with walnut and, in another inspired take, pancetta. When I asked for one of the first, he suggested I choose a second, and so I ended up tasting a pancetta-flecked roll, which, like the French, was quite nice. (And my friend raved about the cranberry, liking it so much that she chose a second later on). He also returned repeatedly -- even after we'd declined.

The wine service also was very good, the list deep and varied. I was a little disappointed at first to see so many high-priced bottles, which often shows a lack of imagination. But I kept digging, and toward the back, lo and behold, I found a lot of alternative choices, including some Cabernet Francs, which seemed agreeable to our party. Our first choice wasn't available but the suggested (and, yes, more expensive) 2002 Crocker & Star ($83) was on the mark.

And I haven't even gotten to the heart of the matter yet. The agnolotti were lovely, the soft cheese cosseted by the al-dente pasta so cozily that it seemed to have been tucked in. Their mild flavor was offset by the pleasant bitterness of arugula and earthiness of aged Parmigiano and shards of black truffle.

Fair enough, but no more so than the tiny, tiny, tender and succulent oysters on the half-shell with a layer of creamy indulgence and a spark of Key lime, the subtle brininess of Osetra caviar and mellowness of creamed leeks.

I knew the venison chop would be farm-raised but didn't suspect its flavor would be so adroitly balanced on the line of too-gamy/not-gamy enough, and that it would be so moist. (Moist venison! Who knew?) Sauteed apples and beets and a gingery glaze provided a chorus of autumnal notes -- a reflection of the season, which is something important to Stratta, and which he handles deftly.

There were autumnal notes as well in the caramelized fennel, candied orange and Pinot Noir sauce that accompanied a lovely firm Atlantic bass.

And dessert? A roasted pear with candied walnuts and gingerbread was perfectly done, but I was even more impressed with my friend's cheese tray, which included selections from France, Italy and Indiana (again, who knew?) and accompaniments that included quince, walnuts, apricots and honeycomb.

The third member of our party chose the tasting menu, and we mostly left him to his own devices, barely acknowledging his exultations as he made his way along. We were a little jealous that he got two desserts (passion cheesecake and nougat-and-praline ice cream), but were most impressed with his impossibly creamy foie gras, with its dots of pomegranate syrup and 100-year-old balsamico.

Good thing he shared.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@ reviewjournal.com.