Milk Bar UPDATE - Las Vegas, NV

Forget LA parking. I'll just leave my car under the Cosmo and have Milk Bar every night. 

They now sell slices of cake. Fall fast for the fall season Pumpkin Dulce de Leche, hearty layers moist cinnamon pumpkin with layers of dulce and cream. 

The Birthday Cake is funfetti, and the cake, though baked, still tastes like raw batter. It's a classic but it'll always be my fave. 

Tried some cookies this time around. Nothing corny about a classic sweet Corn, the Blueberry & Cream is like a solid cheesecake without the cheese, and the Compost is all sorts of sugar, salt, and savor, crunch of soft, and goo on crunch.

We got half a Milkbar pie to go as well. It's the same thing as the crack pie with a family-friendly name because "family-friendly" is the first thing that comes to mind when I think about Vegas. They make it in ice cream too, and it's the best kind of sugar rush. 

I don't care what you say about social media and hype. I'll never get tired of the desserts at Milk Bar - they're quickly becoming a classic, and no matter how long they've been around, for me, they'll never get old. 

Momofuku UPDATE - Las Vegas, NV

We don't bother to sit down anywhere else. No food more satisfying than Momofuku at this point - why bother with all the others?

We've spent the years getting into our Vegas groove, and Pork Buns with every meal is part of the plan. The slab of belly is thick and melty, in a fluffy bun with a stripe of hoisin and a sprinkle of scallion. 

They still make the only Shoyu Ramen I would kill for, a thick, fatty broth that coats every ropy noodle.

Try the Shishito Peppers, or anything green from the market menu to take a break between the bites of pork fat. These are roasted with a thick dust of smoked salt, and the spicy ones will be your wake-up call. 

Chilled Shrimp Noodles are a lighter option if you're not in the mood for ramen. The green noodles are light and cheery under a layer of char-grilled shrimp.

The Confit Jidori Chicken is a juicy, flavor-packed bowl on vinegared crispy rice.

Again, a lighter option, the Chilled Spicy Buckwheat Noodles what mix like a carb salad. There's a perfect soft-boiled egg mixed with refreshing flavors of kimchi, kombu, and cukes.

Some of my love for Momofuku stems from New York nostalgia, and some of it stems from the enjoyment of watching David Chang evolve and grow his empire. He was one of the first east coast chefs who made Asian cuisine more accessible to the stuffed shirts of New England, and he is the undeniable master of all that is pork, fat, and pork fat. Whatever the reason, all that matters is that I keep going back to Vegas, and I keep going back to him in Vegas. 

Lardo - Las Vegas, NV

My friend Jeff once coined a term that I find most endearing. The word is "lardassio," used to describe a glutton, a person who just has all the fat and eats all the fat. 

Lardo is the lardassio's culinary spirit animal, fat-packed sandwiches executed with skill and class. You won't find glorified deli sandwiches behind this counter - they squeeze a lot of cohesive thought between two slices of bread. Each sandwich just screams of luxury, like these silky threads of Korean Pork Shoulder. The meat is marinated so far through you won't find a single thread not soaked. The house kimchi adds an acidic bite, and the chili mayo some spice and cream. It's heavy and it's rich, but few sandwiches complement a tall beer so well. 

The Pho'Rench Dip is a little lighter, a purse full of shaved beef with a dash of hoisin and mayo. Dipped in pho, the broth fills in all the nooks and crannies and soaks into the bread while clinging to the beef. 

If you're going to get dirty, Vegas is the place to do it. Try the Dirty Fries, crisp potato strips scrambled with pork scraps, pickled peppers, and plenty of parm. You don't need a side with sandwich portions like these, but I'm betting no one ever regretted these fries. 

Channel your inner lardassio at Lardo. They're all about the kind of gluttony that is so completely satisfying minus the grossness and regret. These sandwiches will get you through any hour of any day, and there's one for every mood.

Momofuku Las Vegas - Las Vegas, NV

It's been half a decade since I've strolled the streets of NYC. I've almost forgotten the fumes of garbage bags on trash day mixing with the smells of something spicy, something baking, and something frying on every corner of every street. I miss it, all of it, even the trash. It was like a different life. 

Nostalgia, pleasant nostalgia anyway, smells just like Momofuku, my first taste of David Chang's genius almost ten years ago. I remember when the original noodle bar had the LES fighting Stuy Town for barstools, no reservations for front-row seats to what was probably the first decent bowl of ramen NYC had ever seen. 

For me, Momofuku Las Vegas releases a wave of pleasant porky memories worth visiting more than once...and we did. All those restaurants all around, but this visit starts and ends with Momofuku. 

The bar section even looks like Momofuku NYC, and I could almost be back there biting into their legendary Pork Belly Bun. The bun is steamed soft and fluffy, barely containing a brick of a belly, braised melty and soft, rivulets of liquid fat dripping tears of joy with every chew. There's a dab of hoisin, a dice of scallion, a cut of cucumber. It's the simplest thing, but I've never found one better.

There's a Spicy Fried Chicken Sandwich, too, a red-hot but not too hot crispy cut. Full in flavor, highlight by a smoky, creamy sauce and cooled down with a cucumber cured.

I hesitated before I ordered the Shoyu Pork Ramen. Shoyu broth is never my favorite, and after years of the real deal in Torrance, I wasn't sure it would feel the same. It feels the same. Same rich, porky broth, so savory and dense it could be a sauce. Same thick, dissolving chunk of belly with marbled shredded shoulder, and a seeping poached egg. Noodles still al dente, a bowl of all sorts of happiness.

I got another ramen for our last lunch, and we ordered the Jidori Chicken Ssam as a lighter contrast. The chicken is perfect. Thin skin and tender meat with all the juices, savory-flavory in a crisp and fresh lettuce wrap. Ginger-scallion perks up the rice, and pickles refresh the palate. 

David Chang makes fireworks when he gets it right. His Momofuku will be the Bellagio fountain once people catch on. It's a classic that never gets old, and it's breathtaking no matter how many times you have it.

Milk Bar - Las Vegas, NV

Almost ten years ago, my first taste of Milk Bar rocked my world. It threw everyone for a loop, dishing out just desserts, the likes of which the Lower East Side had never seen. 

For me, it was the Crack Pie. Cue clouds opening, streaming sunlight, and epiphany music. 

You don't even feel anything on the first bite, but we all like our sugar with butter and cream. The second bite sneaks up on you, and an insatiable desire to have more sets in somewhere between the second bite and the third. It sounds so simple, but what it does to you is something I can't even try to explain.

The Cake Truffles are another favorite. These aren't so original anymore, but I dare say they started the cake pop revolution. All sugar, crumbly and sweet; They'd probably turn your kids into bullets of energy and keep you clubbing all night.

Nostalgia makes me bold. I've always wanted to try the Cereal Milk Soft Serve, and I decide today will be the day. I should have quit while I was ahead. There is a reason it sounds like a bad idea. Spoiler alert: it is a terrible idea. It tastes like soggy corn flakes soaked in milk except the corn flakes are at least a year old. The cereal flavor is STALESTALESTALE and it is disgusting. In my husband's words, "It tastes like something I (and no one else in the world) shouldn't be eating."

The soft serve went into the garbage where it belongs, but we did get half a crack pie for the road. I still have a soft spot for Milk Bar, but I'd be damn glad to never see their cereal milk again.