There are places on this planet that somehow defy explanation. The individual elements may be great, but all together, they flow into something truly magical. We had one of those experiences on a recent trip to Las Vegas.
I will begin by saying Las Vegas isn’t exactly our vibe. It’s like a theme park for adults. We find it artificial and unsatisfying. We much more enjoyed our time out in the desert, and on into the stunning hills and rocks of Utah and Arizona than we did our time on the strip. There was very little notice that I was going along on this trip, only really a day and a bit. There was no time to do my normal deep dive of travel planning, to seek out the little hole in the wall places and off the beaten path things I love so much. The Italian American Club was an unexpected gem, that I somehow found on the fly.
It was a very early morning, and a long day of travel, with five hours of flight time, plus the super fun sprint through DFW. It’s always a sprint at DFW, I think it must be a law somewhere. There had been no breakfast, only a snack box with one hardboiled egg, some sliced salami, and a piece of pepper jack cheese in Dallas. Needless to say, by the time the Englishman got his jet passengers looked after, the plane put away, and finally met up with me at our hotel on the strip, we were both tired and starving!
I had traveled in a dress, which a very rare choice for me, but I wasn’t turning up at the Italian American Club anything other than properly dressed, and wasn’t sure if there would be an opportunity to change before dinner. I did manage to switch out my travel shoes for some slingback pumps, and off we went. Our home in Italy has definitely taught me that Italians make any gathering of more than three people a party, and they like to dress for the occasion. You don’t have to be in a dress, or a jacket (for gentlemen), but don’t be scruffy. This isn’t that kind of place. I have no doubt they would still welcome you warmly, but they might hide you at a table in the back! This is an old school supper club, where people make an effort.
The Italian American Club is a private club, with dues and membership, but you don’t have to be a member to visit the restaurant. There is even a bocce ball court hidden away somewhere, but we didn’t see it. I was a little concerned, as we turned up without a reservation, but got lucky with it being very early. A reservation is definitely recommended, as the large space filled up quickly! This place is a tucked away slice of old Las Vegas, and the vibe was laid back, Rat Pack, cool. It was actually a haunt of the Rat Pack, and the mobsters that ran early Las Vegas, and still very much has that feel, down to the crooner in the corner with a piano. It was elegant without being stuffy, and VERY reasonably priced, with the whole bill being under $150, including the tip. We ordered so much food that we had enough left for lunch for both of us the next day, while on a 13 hour roadtrip.
We both agreed we have rarely felt so warmly welcomed and looked after, at any restaurant, ever. They welcomed us like family, as both Italians, and Italian Americans tend to do. There was an army of staff, and things just…happened, quietly and unobtrusively. Flatware got replaced, crumbs were cleared away, dishes came and went, and drinks were never empty. Not one person was anything other than warm and friendly. There is something special about a place filled with obvious life long regulars, where people greet each other warmly, and by name. There were multiple birthday celebration dinners going on, and sequins and mink abounded, on an unassuming Thursday night.
Food was excellent, and the menu is large enough that I really had to close my eyes and just choose something at random, because it all sounded good. We were sitting there over drinks, listening to the pianist and the singer get started, while the room started to take on the buzz of happy diners, and all the stress of the day just drained away. It was relaxed and fun, and the whole atmosphere just wraps around you like a happy cocoon. If we lived anywhere near there, it would be a regular spot, even if it was just to have a drink at the bar after work. They were doing a brisk takeout business, and that would still be good, but it couldn’t ever match the atmosphere of being there.
There have been meals around the world that we still talk about, many years later. That evening has already joined that list. Vegas isn’t a regular haunt for us, but any odd instance that takes us back there will find us at the Italian American Club. They might not know your name the first time, but they will still treat you like family. By your third time there, I would bet at least one person will call you by name. It’s just that kind of place.
Vagabond.Belle 