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Friday, October 30, 2015

Scallops en Piscine de Beurre 21

The aptly named Fremont (on Fremont Street) is, like most casinos, an interesting place. You never know what you are going to see. Like, for example, a referee wearing a hair ballcap.

They've done some renovations on the east wall of the place, which was kind of a dead zone, and added a new bar, called Filament. I think you will agree from this tiny image that the place has a feeling of grandeur to it. It looks really, really, good. Plus it's a bar.
Filament at the Fremont
On to 2nd Street Grill, where our reservation time was pretty much honored. And that reminds me of a saying my great uncle Griffy McFlusher used to say - She offered her honor, he honored her offer. And all night long it was honor and offer.
Could this be the Second Street Grill?
They have this appetizer at Second Street - scallops and escargot I think (18) or all scallops (21). I thought it would be nice to have all scallops (21). I ordered that, and the New York with baked,  and the Quad Queen had a bare New York.
Second Street Grill
The scallops came in one of those dishes with six dips into which a dollop of clarified butter is normally placed, along with the scallop. These puppies were huge and right away I knew I was in trouble. I’d never be able to eat them all and still finish my steak. I cut one in half and ate it - pretty good. Boy there was a lot of butter though, and a gigantic breadstick, sourced from the local Phallus Bakery, which shares space with the local Jealous Wife Knifery.
Gigandick Breadstick a la Scallops en Piscine de Beurre (21)
We talked about the idea that I should probably take most of them with me, since we had a fridge. I hate to waste food. But would I want cold scallops the next day for breakfast? We’d have to ditch the butter, that was for sure.

As I tried a second one, I realized that these scallops were basically deep sea diving again in what amounted to an disgusting vat full of clarified butter. I was kind of wondering about the ‘presentation’, at first, then, interested, then piqued, then amused, then slightly concerned, and then completely disgusted.

I managed to eat a couple of the scallops, which were very nice, but then I shoved them to one side. The entrees came and were very nice, along with a second glass of acceptable house merlot - acceptable, because it was red, and had alcohol in. I valiantly told the waiter to leave the scallops for now, as I might nibble, and we’d probably take them home later.
New York Steak with blue cheese du fromage a la Owen.
As I ate my steak, the scallops right next to me glistened. I thought I heard a buttery gurgle from the vicinity of the swimming pool of liquid fat they were paddling in. I made that little ‘stink’ face, you know, how you kind of frown and crinkle up when you think you smell something off? Or are kind of thinking about being a bit disgusted? That face.

I pushed the scallops a little further away and took a pull of the merlot. The Quad Queen’s meal was just fine, just how she’d ordered it. Well, her New York was a bit over, more like medium instead of medium well.

The bus boy stopped by and asked if I was done with the scallops and did I want to take them with me.

“They seem to have put a lot of butter with these. It’s not always like that, is it,” I said, confident of the answer. This had to be an scallop anomaly.

“No sir, this is how they are prepared.”

He smiled a little smile and went away. I tried to put the bread basket in front of the horrific scallops a la arteries. It looked like they were starting to rise up out of their little wading pools of butter and into the deep end that made up the rest of the dish. I think they were coming after me, frankly. I think if those scallops had their way, I’d be found dead in my chair with about four slimy trails of butter leading from the cow-fat swimming pool to my bloated carcass.

Somehow I managed to finish my steak. It came with some onions frite that were just too greasy although tasty. But I bet butter is tasty too… The baked potato was exactly how it should have been - baked.

The waiter came to clear things away and I motioned him over. He came closer. I beckoned with my index finger. He leaned over a bit. And I whispered in his ear as I gestured to the scallops.

“How many patients have you lost?”

He kind of laughed.

“There must be nine pounds of butter in there,” I said.

“It is a lot of butter sir. I agree.”

“And that’s how you do them all the time?!”

“Yes, that’s how customers seem to like it.” He quickly looked left and right, about to divulge some dirt. “Some customers use the big soft breadstick to mop up a lot of the butter. And…”

He looked left and right again.

“And? And?!!!... AND???? Tell. C’mon man, I need to know. Tell!”

“And… some use a spoon and eat it all up.”

“Cheque. Please.”
Excellent creme brulee - large portion better for sharing with surviving diners.
After dinner we decided to try a hit and run on the Slutty Times Pay - just $30 each. We had fun goofing around but never got any hits that way.

Next stop, home base back at the Cal - it was time to shoot some squares!

There’s a 10-play machine right by the craps pit so I grabbed a spot at a table where I could watch the Quad Queen’s progress.

I bought in for a hundred and so did she. I got engrossed in the game a bit, not having played craps in a long while. I decided on a simple strategy. Press up pass line wins on the come out twice - that’s when seven or eleven are rolled. Take full odds no matter what the number and either place the six and eight or have two come bets with full odds working if the table was rolling well.

There was a couple of point seven outs and my stack was dwindling quickly. So was Mrs. F’s stack - I saw her put another hundy into the machine. She was struggling again.

It didn’t take long until I was all in on the felt and had just $3 left in my rack. A couple of placed sixes hit, and then the inevitable seven out. I had enough for one passline bet with double odds. I think the point was a nine. Shooter hit a few numbers, and of course, I had no action out. Not too many but then hit the nine. Next point was a ten so I put a come bet out there. That came in, so I recycled and then put a second come bet out. One of those came in and now we were cooking.

The ten hit, so that was great. I had a little profit.

Meanwhile the Quad Queen shoved another hundred in.

The shooter continued to roll some good numbers and I had almost $200 in my rack and another $60 or so on the felt when things went cold. I colored up $195, threw three whites out ‘hard eight for the crew’ and saddled up, booking the double up.
We hit some slant top single line machines and hit a few quads. It was another winning session for me.

What a day I’d had! I’d pretty much won all day long. I had a wad of hundreds and a buttery smile on my face when we turned in.

RF: Day: +$1560 Trip: +$2820
QQ: Day: -$100 Trip -$1420

I couldn’t believe how great my trip was going. I was killing it. At long last, things were going my way, at least for now. Beat the hell out of a deep hole on days one and two. Unfortunately that’s where the Quad Queen was - we’d have to get her sorted out and get her some Royals or something.
Money shot.


    1. Your butter comments crack me up , considering how much starch you shovel into your gut every meal.
      Run it up Flushypoo!!

    2. I am catching up on this as your site is blocked at work and I have been trying to wean myself off the internet at home (I am failing)

      In the photo of you holding up the STP sign (I want it) it appears as if the casino worker in the frame is coming at you to yell at you. Did this happen?

    3. I managed to get away with my shenanigans without any official intervention. I can't tell you how close I was to walking with that sign... I want it so bad!


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