Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Beco--Brooklyn

718.599.1645

This little Brazilian joint is on the back side of the Emerald City. When it first opened, at least two years ago, I was curious how such a tiny little electric kitchen with niche world food was going to survive. The owner escaped the film industry, and I was totally expecting to see his dream of a small Brazilian place shrivel and die like my hydrangeas that didn't come back. Boy was I wrong.

Firstly, there's the steak sandwich; a force to be reckoned with. I'm certain that at points in the restaurant's growth, 80% of its revenue was just steak sandwiches: Filet Mignon, cheese, and a baguette. Tough to beat that one.

Then came the nice open air windows in the summer and cold, cheap brazilian pilsner. Next came the soccer games projected on the far wall, the Federal cup when US almost shocked Brazil in the final (after shocking Spain) comes to mind as the place was standing room only. Then came the brunch. This is after all the no man's land of restaurants, with thousands of people in luxury condo's waiting in line at either Enid's or Five Leaves.

So I guess it's no surprise at all. Beco is a sum of its parts, and it looks as though the owner is living the dream. Good for him. He's a pretty nice dude and Beco is a pretty nice place.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Las Vegas Nevada

Holy shit. I don't even know where to begin. Perhaps an appropriate preface to this debacle of debauchery would be that I was wifeless. I repeat, no wife on this one. Not to say she wouldn't have reveled in the ridiculousness that is Las Vegas, but that she generally is my last line of defense before doing something really, really stupid. It's a shame I don't let her read these posts before they're published.

Las Vegas is the most disgusting place on the planet. I could not think of a more contrived, base, and saccharin attempt at luxury if I tried. The old Vegas, the authentic rat pack Vegas, has been replaced with 21st century towers of glass and steel, up to date service, over thought cuisines, expensive cocktails and wine, and the dames, holy Christ the place is dripping with trim. But it's all a hoax. A faux lavish design to extort you by playing on the most primitive instinct in the human brain: greed.

I must say I had a total blast. I drank like I used to drink. I Was thrown out of two casino's for fighting, once with a pair of lesbians. I played 52 card pick up outside the Wynn. And the dames, good lord almighty there were women everywhere. Cheap, easy, looking-for-rich-men, women.

There are some things I would have done differently, that ferragamo tie was unnecessary, but over all here are some tips that would make a trip to Vegas Iconman:


  • Wear a suit. Dress nice. This goes for the ladies too. Most of the trash that visits Vegas considers dressing up throwing on one of those tube-top-esque dress that barely covers their flabby asses. The end up looking like low-rate hookers. Try to look like a top rate hooker.
  • Buy a bottle of liquor. Don't gamble for free drinks, as they never end up free. And don't go to the bar or you'll get stung for $10-$15 a cocktail. Since you can walk anywhere with a drink, I got a flask and took a rocks glass from the hotel where ever I went.
  • Assume authority, they'll respect it. Now that you're in a suit and sufficiently hydrated, walk up to the front of lines or sit down at reserved tables, the staff at Vegas are so ingrained to keep you happy so they can fleece you unsuspectingly, they'll allow you to do just about anything. The suit is key, it makes you seem richer than the regular shclock in a button down short sleeve and dockers.
  • Don't sleep. Sleep is completely irrelevant in Vegas. The longer you stay up the more enjoyable it becomes.
  • Don't stay on the strip the whole time. Down town is pretty cool, we hit a bar called the Griffin around 3am one night and it was not as bad as I don't remember.
  • If you gamble, don't expect to win.
  • Check out a cabaret. I don't know of any other town, with the exception of Paris, where you can see hot beautiful women dancing naked for one fixed price. No solicitations for a lap dance, no stripper stink all over your clothes, just clean, pretty women dancing around. Well worth the $60.

    • Okay so there's a brief list. I wish I could give you more details, but due to the only detail I can really mention with certainty (that I was wifeless) sort of clouds all of my other judgements.