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| - Most certainly recommended.
I was certain I was on the true path when Fragranza di Garlic enveloped me the instant I stepped inside the front doors. The overall aroma instantly flashed-me-back to my Aunt Maria's Queens apartment where, every Friday evening, after stopping at the vegetable market on the bus ride out of Manhattan, she would start simmering her sauce all weekend toward Sunday dinner for the entire famiglia.
The Sicilian certainly belongs well within the "old-school Vegas white-tablecloth" genre ... but it flies a bit more under the radar, as compared to other in the group such as Bootlegger, Casa di Amore, Ferraro's, Piero's, Golden Steer, et. al. Sicilian's generations of venues have certainly been around long enough to qualify. But it's more humble and reserved than those others.
Large & routine murals of Italy & New York (and even San Diego) drape the egg-white painted walls ... rather than a shower of vintage autographs or red velvet wallpaper or Vegas celebrity portraits upon red brick. Simple wooden chairs & tables rather than engulfing black leather banquettes. No Strip hotel limo service or mandatory valet, but there's plenty of free parking out front. (Except for casino property executives, I hope.) Local radio promotion much more so than glossy ads in the hotel room magazines.
At first, this all feels a bit empty -- hey youse guyz, give me my dose of vintage-Vegas-vibe! But actually it subtly serves to focus diners upon this venue's main concern: classic service delivered by fawning & talented staff ... followed by excellent mangia, mangia! Ok, NOW I remember why I REALLY came in here!
The entire menu, as well as all the plates moving around the floor, looked scrumptious. But since I already knew I'd likely return, I eased on into it this go-round. House salad with the recommended Creamy Italian dressing started a bowl of Penne in Sausage & Peppers. With the requisite loaf of Italian bread, of course. It was all fresh & tasty, no surprise there, what with all the excellent reviews in place. I'm looking forward to future visits ... where I'll delve into their red sauce, dive into the al dente of their papperdelle and such. And there's veal chops on the table tents, though I didn't notice them on the menu. Being a red-meat sort of gentleman, I'm sure to eventually venture that avenue as well.
My server Louie didn't miss a beat. He's clearly been doing this - and doing it well - for many years. And his gift of gab proved it; he was well-honed at tailoring his table-talk toward his 'read' on the individual customer. And then the service. A free hand meant he slipped my next iced tea into my table - without missing a step moving toward another table to be plated from his other hand - and he slipped it as smoothly as a solid BJ dealer slips his own second card under his first. Not a drop of light ever struck the bottom of my bread basket or butter tray either ... and without request or gesture from me. As the last bite of my house salad disappeared from my plate, Louie was standing at-the-ready, to ask if I was ready. When I said I was, his right hand, with show, swooped my entrée in a single motion from an unseen cart behind my table and down onto where my salad plate used to be. Huh? Where did THAT plate go? A magician or a waiter, you decide. If proper service is what you consider as essential to 'an upscale & quality experience,' you certainly won't be disappointed here.
(Go figure Millennials who dead-drop three Bens for a $12 bottle of Svedka and their own seat in a nightclub ... then are anonymously sardine-crammed into thousands of other pulsating Millennial clubbers ... and yet somehow believe they've had 'an upscale & quality experience.' But, hey, it's their money, right?)
The ambient music brought the best of company to my table: Ol' Blue Eyes, Dino, The Velvet Fog, Ella, Nat King Cole, Bublé ... even Glenn Miller briefly table-touched (Begin the Beguine, 1943). I am unsure as to the source of this curation, however I was especially impressed that it paid proper respect to Dino's oft-overlooked classic-country coverage with 'Welcome to my World' (1967).
SUMMARY: Good Italian eats with fawning service, housed in humble but authentic & tasteful décor. As safe a bet as splitting your Aces. Grazie!
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