 Merkato
Every time I'm in Vegas—whether it's with my wife, my mistress, my mistress's kids, my ex-boyfriend, my parents, two high school classmates, two employees of Classmates.com, my wife's mistress, a former teacher, a former would-have-been paramour, two long-legged Negresses, five conventioneers, lead singer of a-ha Morten Harket, and/or former "My So-Called Life" star Lisa Wilhoit—I always insist on venturing away from the Strip for some decent food not underwritten by mobsters and/or containing lobsters.
This "beyond the Strip" mentality tends to challenge most of my Vegas companions, except for those, who, god bless 'em, have the obedience, knack for making a buck, and reluctance-to-have-their-hair-cummed-in of Miss Elisabeth Shue in Leaving Las Vegas.
In fact, it was she with whom I dined at Merkato, a fine Ethiopian joint not terribly far from Las Vegas Boulevard, and while I found the dinner entirely pleasant, I must admit I wholly preferred the later evening shenanigans with her brother Andrew Shue, whose better judgment can be bought for a decent buck these days.
We shared the veggie combo plate and some good conversation about where Las Vegas is going these days. Some say it will end up in the hands of the magicians; some back the entertainers; others insist the comedians will land on top. Me, I'm trawling the outskirts, enjoying the genuine ethnic treasures, whether they be on-point Ethiopian dinners or off-point Ethiopian escorts.
Review by Wimpempy Tarlisle, December 2012 |
