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| - This review is for the bar and some appetizers at said bar. While the Bellagio may be known as "classy" and "sophisticated," it isn't, and once we walked into the hotel after the fountain spectacle, we searched for a refuge. The "Barbarians were at the Gate," and we were running for some, any oasis. We covered our eyes and dulled our senses and ducked into Todd English's Olives.
Years ago, we ate at the original in Boston and wondered about the "big deal." Little did we know, Olives would become institution.
The bar at Olives in the Bellagio was wonderful. Curtis, our bartender, took personal care of us, making us feel separated from the hordes that were attacking the Bellagio. We had drinks, a salad, and a hamburger. They were all great. However, the food was secondary to the comfort we felt being cared for by Curtis, after the onslaught of the Strip, a strangulation of the soul and reality. Olives felt like the "promised land," and unlike Moses, I was allowed to experience it.
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