Loving Las Vegas

Loving Las Vegas

After ten hours of flying and too much bad airplane coffee, the beef carpaccio from 8 East at the Circa casino was ecstasy. Topped with potato chips, served with drops of citrus-infused wasabi crème, it would have been fabulous anytime. But nursing a cold Sapporo, stoned on exhaustion and discombobulation, I shivered in delight with every bite. Just a single piece would have been worth the flight.

It was my first time in Las Vegas — my first time in the States — and I was hoping to write a meaningful story about a too-much written… Read the article