So after an amusing wander that took four flights,
including two booked within an hour of departure,
and a couple insulting encounters with the staff
of the Admiral's Club in Los Angeles (a town I'd
not planned to visit until 2020), I found myself in 
Las Vegas, that great cultural capital, with a 
famished Lilli on my arm.

We got a grumpy Uber driver to take us to the
Tropicana for about twice what it should have 
cost and surveyed the neighborhood. There were
a number of places in the hotel, but nothing 
appealed - the interesting places were in other
lodgings - Bruxie's or Popeye's for fried chicken,
the Broadway Burger Bar, or Joel Robuchon, my
personal choice, but this last has a $445 prix
fixe not including wine, so that got vetoed.
We went by Bruxie's, and it turns out that it
didn't smell interesting, so we turned toward
Popeye's, but that was across Las Vegas Boulevard,
the crossing of which can be vexing. So the burger
place it was. It's in the basement of New York, New
York near the estimable but quite overpriced 
Gallagher's Steakhouse, which I enjoy.

We got seated at a tiny deuce that had barely
room for a ketchup and mustard, a pad for ordering
more condiments, and our elbows. There were other
tables available, but they must have been hopeful
that a hundred famished gamblers would descend on
them in the last hour of opening.

We ordered a couple burgers rare and were given
the unwelcome news that our choices were a little
pink or no pink. We ordered a burger each, with
pink, no fancy extras, no sides. Well, one admits 
that the a little pink burgers still taste sort of 
like meat. Lilli was emotionally unsatisfied, though,
had second thoughts and ordered a side of fries,
which were kind of decent. I asked for sriracha so
I could help her out - ketracha (srichup) is actually 
better than it sounds. A mass-market beer and an even
more mass-market Merlot rounded out a completely
unprepossessing but nonetheless enjoyable meal.

--
Our breakfast allowance entitled us to $13 a head at
any f/b outlet on premises, so we went to the Savor 
Brunch Buffet, where it turns out the toll is $26, so
instead of the promised Hilton breakfast, we got half
off only, but what do you expect from a hotel that
charges $40 a night plus tax plus a $35 "resort fee,"
a custom that, like crabcakes made out of Krab, should
be a capital crime.

There are some okay things on said buffet, along with
some horrid ones, the main consolation being $2 mimosas
and Champagne cocktails and $2.50 bloody Marys and $3
pina coladas and strawberry margaritas.

Fruit were very good - water- and other melons of some
firmness but quite sweet, kiwis of sweet-tartness, and
shriveled but absolutely delicious oranges. 

There were cheeses, cold cuts, salads, pastries, cakes,
cookies, an omelet station, none of which I took any
advantage of, so no guidance on these.

Breakfast fish included creditable though sliced very
thick smoked salmon with the trimmings, some really
dubious sushi rolls, which went flying off the buffet,
and a pretty okay shrimp seviche that was premade
salsa mixed with frozen 80 count shrimp and allowed
to thaw out.

Hallelujah - fried chicken. The first piece I took,
a drumstick, was okay chicken done in fish-fry oil.
Pretty strange, not offputting to me but probably
would be to a normal person. It was okay enough to eat
and for me to go back to try to find a thigh; I took
Lilli with me, and we both spotted what we thought was
a thigh at the same time. They were different pieces -
hers a lower back with thigh meat attached, mine a
regular but generously cut thigh piece with the tail,
and a whole back skin. Both of these pieces were, as 
they say, well hung, the meat beginning to ferment, 
strangely emitting gas to the degree that the meat was 
effervescent. I left behind some of this less stellar 
dish after trying to force it down with the aid of 
country gravy, which I can tell you the recipe for: 
flour, margarine and lots of it, bouillion cubes, 
and chopped up abandoned old hamburgers.

Along with the mediocre but welcome Mombo's soft serve
(vanilla and chocolate) I made up my calories with an
assortment of the mimosas and Champagne cocktails that
were okay but for the not-so-greatness of the sparkling 
wine involved. Lilli had one each of the red drinks.
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