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| - Imagine partying and being out all night in "The Vegas," fueled up on adrenaline, eight shots of Gray Goose, six Red Bulls, four lines of nose candy, and maybe two hits off of a gravity bong. In other words, you're freakin' wasted.
Your world is starting to spin and you need some food to keep functioning (and to ensure you don't puke or OD). You stumble into a Denny's and you are blown away by weird neon colors, friendly service, and good food at great prices featuring out of this world portions. You are so amazed by the experience you feel you as if you are dreaming, high, or both.
Well, the paragraph above pretty much describes my recent experience(s) at the Peppermill, except that I was not on a Charlie Sheen style bender. Even stone cold sober and pissing holy water, I was amazed by the food, service, and of course, the neon colored look and feel of the place.
After a long day of traveling and working, I came here for dinner and had a delicious half pound burger with grilled mushrooms, Swiss cheese, crispy bacon, fresh produce featuring onions, lettuce, tomatoes, and a delicious dill pickle that Snookie would salivate over. With my entree, I was given the option of a side of fries, curly fries, or onion rings. I opted for the hot and crispy curly fries. And when I say side, I mean a 2,500 calorie mountain.
It was a quality meal and well priced ($16 including tip), considering it was more than enough for two people or maybe even three. But of course, being a nasty pig, I devoured the entire burger and ate as many curly fries as a I could until I felt there was a pimple forming at the end of my nose.
I was so impressed by the meal and the service, I let my impressive server (who was in training at the time and being shadowed by another server), that I would be back the following day. As I wasn't pulling a Charlie Sheen, the next day I kept my word and returned with my coworker. Word is bond, yo.
This time around, I had a chicken focaccia sandwich filled with thick slices of avocado, prosciutto, provolone cheese, all served a side of Balsamic vinaigrette. The sandwich was delicious. This time around I opted for some tasty onion rings that gave me enough grease on my face to start a fire, a small pimple, and a pair of busted slacks. Whatever. I like being fat. No, really. I swear.
In the end, this has become one of my new favorite places to eat in "The Vegas," even if the food makes my face look young (greasy and pimply) and body look old (round and fat). Good food and good times, even without a Charlie Sheen recipe for disaster.
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