
Burger Bar Photograph by Katerhine Bish
Casino food’s a gamble. Maybe not the high-roller chow served at those four-star (or derivatively faux-star) restaurants a few maroon-carpeted passes down from the pits. No, it’s at the more bourgeois eateries where the dice are tossed. Like at downtown’s Lumière Place, where chef Hubert Keller’s steakhouse, SLeeK, and the Four Seasons’ stratospherically elegant Cielo (both previously reviewed in these pages) are joined by a quartet of relatively quotidian dining spots. Like most other sensory experiences found within, they are hit-or-miss.
Keller’s second endeavor, Burger Bar, provides a fanciful plethora of meats, buns, and toppings for self-selected burgers, or you can bet the bank on VIP-priced options like the $60 Rossini burger: Kobe beef, sauteed foie gras, and shaved truffles dished on an onion bun with an au jus–like Madeira sauce. Who knows how good a $60 burger should taste, but I’d pony up that and more for the truffles alone, which anchored the gamey-savory beef and unctuous foie gras with outsized, joyful loaminess. Plating it with shoestring spuds, though? I subbed the delightful, none-too-greasy buttermilk zucchini fries and was upcharged 75 cents. Craps. The $25 surf and turf paired Angus beef with a grilled half-lobster. Chewing two such texturally dissimilar proteins at once proved unpleasant—and damn, did it need an aioli (not just the Heinz condiments at the table) to bring it all together.
The menu at Asia treks the Eastern hemisphere, perfect for simultaneous cravings of Peking duck and unagi. Vietnamese-style spring rolls featured light-and-lovely insides (including nice, firm shrimp) underserved by their overly gummy wrappings. But I hit pay dirt on my next pair. The soft-shell crab tempura boasted briny, earthy, robust flavors, while a duck noodle soup may have been the best I’ve ever had, a harmonious combination of fall-off-the-bone duck meat, verdant cilantro sprigs, and plentiful vermicelli.
At House of Savoy, an Italian hideaway tucked inside the adjacent Lumière Hotel, the warm yet hushed ambiance offered respite from the activity next door. I began with a terrific, architecturally bold Caesar salad: a swath of lightly dressed romaine underneath a sheet of Parmesan, a breadstick on top replacing croutons. I would’ve doubled down and ordered another, except an eggplant Parmesan awaited, which paid lower returns; too gloopy and pooled with oil. Likewise, I found a subsequent bowl of mussels too mealy. I hate when I hit a cold streak. Another visit produced Cheerio-sized calamari fritti with more breading than (overly chewy) mollusk; a texturally perfect seafood risotto with a satisfying array of shrimp, bay scallops, and mussels (but again, more chewy calamari); then a wondrous panna cotta, a classic dessert that’s never gotten its due stateside—I’ll stretch my metaphors to the hilt and call it the Pai Gow Poker of dolce Italia. It’s a milky, mild custard, accompanied here by a fruity gelato rather than the more traditional spray of fresh berries. (After this uneven visit, SLM learned that Savoy had been without an executive chef; at press time, a new chef was in place.)
Just as I case out a table’s action before wanting in, partaking of the buffet is best done when a steady crowd is spotted, ensuring fresh-item turnover. At such times, the Kitchen Buffet and Bistro’s seven-station tour appears worthy of buying in. Eschewing the Rat Pack era’s prime-rib clichés, there are about six fish entrees, pizza by the slice, ice cream by the scoop, a decent-enough salad bar, sushi (California rolls and the like), Chinese (egg rolls, etc.), an éclair- and blondie-dotted dessert bar, and more, more, more. But now desiring to excise all excesses, I mostly stuck to a table of lighter fare found in back: a broccoli salad, adorned in the most delicate of cream sauces (delish!), and an “Asian chicken” orzo salad, exhibiting nary a scrap of poultry, which was still one of the best misnamed things I’d eaten in any eatery. And I decided to stop right there…while I was ahead.
Address: 999 N. Second
Phone: 314-881-7777
Website: lumiereplace.com